Thursday, November 1, 2012

Riding the Rails

entail adventure, at least, that’s what my friend and I, Jessica, learned today.

 The plan was to arrive in Austria this afternoon, at around 4:30, if our plans went according.  But, as inexperienced travelers, riding the rails isn’t exactly our strong suit.  Let’s just put it this way, we missed two trains already and we haven’t even made it out of Rome.

It all started out this morning when we arrived in Rome and we were supposed to walk from the station Roma Ostiense to the station Roma Termini.  From looking at the itinerary, we were mistaken into thinking that the train in Ostiense labeled Termini was going to take us to our destination in Verona.  But the train literally started up and arrived (to where?) 5 minutes later, after we had set our phone alarm for three hours later, when we expected to arrive in Verona.  After someone told us to get off we began to realize that perhaps this was the wrong train.  The train literally took us 5 minutes away to Termini, the station that we were supposed to leave from in approximately five minutes to actually get to Verona.  Confusing business, but that’s just the way it goes. 

That wouldn’t usually be a problem, except for the fact Roma Termini is one of the largest railway stations in Europe, with approximately 480,000 people passing through each day, 150 million people per year year, 29 platforms, and covering about 225 square meters.  So, when that is put into account, the fact that we ran from one side of the station to the other didn’t really perturb our unfortunate and inevitable fate.  And, let me also not forget that though we were running at top speed across the train station, it didn’t help that is was in the complete wrong direction. I guess young gypsy boys aren’t the best ones to accept directions from, especially when the bring you to a train stop that you don’t realize isn’t yours until he’s gone with your last few Euro coins in his pockets.  Lessons learned… the hard way I guess.

So, after realizing we were … out of luck in catching our train to Verona, I called up my Uncle Toni who my friend Jessica and I are staying with, who has been not only kind in letting us stay with him for a few ways, but of enormous help in assisting us figuring out alternative routes.  With Verona out of the picture, he told us that the next best way to arrive in Innsbruck was to stop first in Bologna (northern Italy), then Brenner (on the border between Austria and Italy), then from there take the train to Innsbruck.  So after finally finding a ticket area that sold international tickets, we bought our tickets to Bologna, then Bologna to Brenner.  Not exactly the best feeling in the world having to pull out an additional 100 Euro after already having purchased tickets for a train that you missed.

The man that helped us purchase our tickets was very friendly, and made sure to tell us that indeed 12A was down the hall to the right.  So, down the hall to the right we went, with 12A right there, waiting for us like Christmas cookies wait for Santa on Christmas Eve.  Not hard to find, just sitting there, like it was meant for us.  Well, that’s easy enough, I thought.  So with the fact that we had about two hours until the train left we found our way to a café where we talked and snacked until we decided to head up to the station 10 minutes before we left.

It was all fine and dandy until we arrived at the station and waited for a train that we realized later never would arrive.  It took only a few moments to realize that 12A was our seat number… not our train platform.  Luckily though, our near tear experience crystalled into delight when we found out that we could exchange our tickets for a train that left only fifteen minutes later.

So, that was the excitement for the day… and it’s not even done yet.  It’s 3:23 and we are currently sitting in the train at its stop in Florence before its final stop in Bologna.  Now, all I have to do is cross my fingers that everything will go right this time.  And now that we have a few hours of experience under our belt… everything can go that much better.  Hopefully, next time you hear from me I’ll be writing to you from Innsbruck, sipping hot chocolate with nearly 8,000 foot mountains towering and glistening with snow out my window.

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