The Long Ride Home (Part 2)
(March 25-27)
(For Part 1, see Sicily Below. Also see The Long Ride Home, first edition).
Same blog title, different train drama. Be sure to read the previous post before this one...or you simply won’t understand my fed-uppedness with it all.
I won't tell this story is as much detail as the last. But just so you understand that it is on the same level, know that Henrietta and I play a little game we like to call Which Train Ride Sucked Worse. For Henrietta, it was the train ride back from Sicily, but I still declare the ride home from Padua the winner.
We had checked the train times well in advance. And we also checked to make sure our ticket would work for this, another overnight train. Everything seemed to be in order. We eliminated all the variables that had led to disaster in the past and this time we hoped for peace and quiet.
When the train came in, we even asked the conductor if our tickets were valid...yes sure no problem. Then we asked him if the train was going to Rome...yes. And joy, there weren’t that many people on the train. We found our own little compartment and settled in.
About an hour into our ride, the train stopped and not at a station. That’s weird. We didn’t think much of it, nobody else seemed concerned. But half an hour later we were still stopped, it seems, in the middle of nowhere. Finally, I hailed the conductor to come over. I tried to ask him why we were stopped for so long, but he didn’t quite understand my question. Then, it seemed every person on the train came over and stood at the doorway of our compartment, watching the scene unfold...all guys of course. Our language struggle with the conductor had now turned into a show for all the men on the train, bored of their minds, to enjoy. Eventually, still not understanding my question, the conductor told me that we were not going to Rome.
“What?”
“But you just said the train is going to Rome!”
“The train is going to Rome, but this particular train car is not!”
What the heck else are we supposed to do? How many variables do we have to check to make sure everything is right when we get on a train? Is it not good enough to know if a train is going to a certain place, we have to be sure every single train car attached to that train is going to that same location?
The whole thing sounded ridiculous to us and we weren’t sure if it was all true. Then we noticed there were in fact no other women on this train, just a bunch of guys hovering over us. This whole thing put us in suspicion mode and we weren’t sure if we should buy the stuff this conductor was dishing out.
How do we get to Rome then? “Six-hundred euro and we’ll take you there,” one guy joked. Hah hah. We were not in the mood for jokes.
He told us that all the other cars were sleeper cars, and we had to pay him to buy a space there. What choice did we have? We were on an island in the middle of the night, far far away from any of our connections and resources.
We moved over to the sleeper car where the conductor we had been talking to took my money and made change. Meanwhile, another conductor led Henrietta away into another compartment. I tried to follow, but the first conductor grabbed my hand and insisted I sit with him in his compartment and have a glass of wine. No thanks I said. But he wouldn’t let go and Henrietta was disappearing from my sight. There was no way I was going to let us get separated. I finally pulled away with polite persistence and ran after her into the other compatment. They left us alone there, to our relief, but without pillows or sheets. We were still highly suspicious.
Anyway more little dramas like this ensued and we got very little sleep the whole night, even though we did eventually get a pillow and sheets. Finally, another older lady joined our car and we felt like we could relax at last. But just as soon as I started feeling comfy enough to sleep, this lady decided to get off of her bed and sit at the foot of mine for the rest of the ride, even though we each had our own assigned spaces that we paid for. But that was a small sacrifice for the peace of mind we gained in just having another woman around.
We never did figure out why we were stopped for so long in the middle of nowhere. (They stop the train to put it on the ferry to cross the water, but this was not that stop). We never did check to see if we were price-gauged for the sleeper car. And, I never figured out if you are actually allowed to pay the conductor directly. Maybe he just kept the money for himself. Either way, we did get home in one piece after a heart-stopping 14 hours.
(For Part 1, see Sicily Below. Also see The Long Ride Home, first edition).
Same blog title, different train drama. Be sure to read the previous post before this one...or you simply won’t understand my fed-uppedness with it all.
I won't tell this story is as much detail as the last. But just so you understand that it is on the same level, know that Henrietta and I play a little game we like to call Which Train Ride Sucked Worse. For Henrietta, it was the train ride back from Sicily, but I still declare the ride home from Padua the winner.
We had checked the train times well in advance. And we also checked to make sure our ticket would work for this, another overnight train. Everything seemed to be in order. We eliminated all the variables that had led to disaster in the past and this time we hoped for peace and quiet.
When the train came in, we even asked the conductor if our tickets were valid...yes sure no problem. Then we asked him if the train was going to Rome...yes. And joy, there weren’t that many people on the train. We found our own little compartment and settled in.
About an hour into our ride, the train stopped and not at a station. That’s weird. We didn’t think much of it, nobody else seemed concerned. But half an hour later we were still stopped, it seems, in the middle of nowhere. Finally, I hailed the conductor to come over. I tried to ask him why we were stopped for so long, but he didn’t quite understand my question. Then, it seemed every person on the train came over and stood at the doorway of our compartment, watching the scene unfold...all guys of course. Our language struggle with the conductor had now turned into a show for all the men on the train, bored of their minds, to enjoy. Eventually, still not understanding my question, the conductor told me that we were not going to Rome.
“What?”
“But you just said the train is going to Rome!”
“The train is going to Rome, but this particular train car is not!”
What the heck else are we supposed to do? How many variables do we have to check to make sure everything is right when we get on a train? Is it not good enough to know if a train is going to a certain place, we have to be sure every single train car attached to that train is going to that same location?
The whole thing sounded ridiculous to us and we weren’t sure if it was all true. Then we noticed there were in fact no other women on this train, just a bunch of guys hovering over us. This whole thing put us in suspicion mode and we weren’t sure if we should buy the stuff this conductor was dishing out.
How do we get to Rome then? “Six-hundred euro and we’ll take you there,” one guy joked. Hah hah. We were not in the mood for jokes.
He told us that all the other cars were sleeper cars, and we had to pay him to buy a space there. What choice did we have? We were on an island in the middle of the night, far far away from any of our connections and resources.
We moved over to the sleeper car where the conductor we had been talking to took my money and made change. Meanwhile, another conductor led Henrietta away into another compartment. I tried to follow, but the first conductor grabbed my hand and insisted I sit with him in his compartment and have a glass of wine. No thanks I said. But he wouldn’t let go and Henrietta was disappearing from my sight. There was no way I was going to let us get separated. I finally pulled away with polite persistence and ran after her into the other compatment. They left us alone there, to our relief, but without pillows or sheets. We were still highly suspicious.
Anyway more little dramas like this ensued and we got very little sleep the whole night, even though we did eventually get a pillow and sheets. Finally, another older lady joined our car and we felt like we could relax at last. But just as soon as I started feeling comfy enough to sleep, this lady decided to get off of her bed and sit at the foot of mine for the rest of the ride, even though we each had our own assigned spaces that we paid for. But that was a small sacrifice for the peace of mind we gained in just having another woman around.
We never did figure out why we were stopped for so long in the middle of nowhere. (They stop the train to put it on the ferry to cross the water, but this was not that stop). We never did check to see if we were price-gauged for the sleeper car. And, I never figured out if you are actually allowed to pay the conductor directly. Maybe he just kept the money for himself. Either way, we did get home in one piece after a heart-stopping 14 hours.
posted by Amy at 7:32 PM
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