Hollywood Has Nothing On Me

You know that scene in all the movies that has the person catching the train at the very last second and the look they have on their face is always one of determination, and then, when they finally jump onto the step they looked relieved? Yeah, they've got it all wrong. I know what you're thinking: "The movies lie?" Yes, yes, they do. Really what happens is more of a count down: at 20 minutes to departure you started getting nervous and looking around for help. At 10 minutes you enter worried. At 5 minutes you enter panic. And then, when you get to about 2 minutes, you reach desperate. How do I know this? This is how my day went: (On the way to Genova (or Genoa for Americans) Italy).

I made my train by quite possibly 30 seconds. I got on and sat down and it took off. I have never been so panicked before.

I thought that I had the train station all figured out -- there's an Arrival board and a Departure board. Well, I had seen the departure board read 'Genova' before so I kept looking for that to appear. It never did - so then I thought maybe it was cancelled, and how in the hell am I going to communicate enough with someone to get my ticket refunded? Finally with 20 minutes to go, I asked a poliza man and he didn't speak much English, but I understood him enough to know that he said to look at the times on the board, not the names of the cities the trains are departing to.

Ok, so I saw two trains with the right departure time, and that's when it occurred to me Milan is on the way to Genova, so even though my ticket said Genova, I had to get on the train to Milan (10 minutes to departure). So then I checked my ticket and saw what train number I was suppose to be on, so then all I had do was find the corresponding platform. I walked up and down a couple platforms but they all seemed wrong, and finally with less than 5 minutes to go (and I was in full-blown panic mode thinking of the money I'd have to pay for a hostel I wasn't staying, the money for one to stay Rome, the money I'd spent on a ticket I didn't use, and the money I'd need to pay for another, then the fact no one speaks good enough English so I could figure out how to work the train and risk doing it all again).

I don't know if I was super in tune to English because of this, but I saw a group of men probably in their early 50s, who were clearly American and they were coming off a train so I figured they knew how to work it, and I just ran up to the one guy, probably looking very panicked and out of my mind and asked if he knew where my train (by the number) was. He looked at my ticket, looked at the boards and told me platform 23. I was on 16. With my back pack. With my 50lb duffel. I ran all the way down and found the train.

(I haven't mentioned this in my blog yet, but a lot of men (mostly men) hang around the train station and "help" you but then they want a tip. Only a Euro or two, but still -- there was a guy and he lifted my bag into the train and I gave him 5 euros because I was so freaked out and out of breath. I hardly sat down and the train took off.

What didn't occur to me, was that I never even second guessed my good samaritan because I was so afraid of missing the train. So the train took off and the ticket lady with the ticket puncher came around (yeah, they actually do that - I thought it was something they just put in movies) and when I handed her my ticket she held onto for what I thought was way too long because she hardly looked at any of the others. Finally, thank God, she punched it and handed it back. I was on the right train.

But then I started getting worried about halfway through my 5 hour train ride how I was going to get to my hostel. I hadn't realized what a luxury it was my last one was a 4 block walk from the station. All my travel book said (and all the hostel website said was to take a certain bus off one train station or two off another train station). At this point, about the only stroke of luck I had was I got off on the station that only required one bus (though my ticket said I was getting off the one that'd require two), got a bus ticket no problem, but then, since like the metro, I don't travel by bus, I was afraid I was going to miss my stop. Finally I noticed a flashing sign at the front of the bus that displayed what stop we were at -- my only concern was I had missed the right one at the first couple stops we had already made. 

For the stop I needed there were actually 2 possible stops (which I didn't realize) and having missed the first, I jumped off at the second (just another block down) and looked around seriously believing I had done something wrong. Well, today was the day for asking strangers for help, and since I had the address for the hostel written down in my one note book, I pulled it out and asked a guy in Italian where it was, pointing to the address. About the second miracle that day, I had landed right in front of it. Of course then I got inside and between all the stress of the day, the reception lady was really nice and I started balling and she thought there was something seriously wrong and wanted to know what she could do to help. Which just made me cry more. I got it under control and got up to my room, which is actually very nice. I knew when I booked it, the dorms are single sex, so there are a couple of girls in here with me right now -- one from Australia and one from Cubque Canada, and they were really nice, which made start crying again.

The girl from Australia (Rachel) said not to worry about it because she's been like I was today. That it happens when you're gone from home. And it's not that I didn't know that, but I thought knowing I was coming back in a month it wouldn't be that hard. Fortunately, Rachel talked me into going for a walk, which was quite lovely -- it was nice to have someone here to talk with directly about all the things I've been feeling (my last hostel was with 5 guys who seemed content to ignore me).

As it turns out I'm basically right on top of the city, so the view is beautiful and it looks out over the sea. I thought these few days would be time to chill and stay inside and let my sun burns heal a bit (got them despite sunscreen -- welcome to 12 hours in the sun), but I think I may venture out tomorrow and see what's going on.

Sorry no pictures guys, but definitely some tomorrow. I think I'm going to make my way around the city with Rachel, which'll be super nice to have some to go with for once.