Now, to catch you up, let's answer the question we get at least once a day, as we're meeting tons of new people and everyone wants to hear about our travels thus far:
"Where have you been so far?"
I'll tell you.
England (London, Windsor, Manchester, York, Bath, Salisbury)
Scotland (Inverness, Aberdeen, Edinburgh)
Wales (Cardiff)
Ireland (Dublin, Rosslare)
France (Cherbourg, Paris)
Belgium (Brussels, Brugge)
The Netherlands (Leeuwarden, Amsterdam)
Germany (Berlin, Munich, Frankfurt, Konstanz)
Switzerland (the Alps)
Finland (Lahti, Helsinki)
Sweden (Stockholm)
Norway (Oslo, Bergen)
Denmark (Copenhagen)
Czech Republic (Plzen, Karlovy Vary, Prague)
Austria (Innsbruck, Salzburg, Vienna)
and
Italy (Venice, Varese, Milan, Bologna, Florence, Genoa, Latina, Rome)
Thus far.
Like I said, there's still three weeks left of the backpacking portion of this trip, and more sights, cities, delicious food, and people to meet.
Since we're moving at such a rapid pace, it was nearly impossible to prepare ourselves Rosetta Stone style for all the communication. But you'll be happy to know, we're learning at least one new language:
The Language of Public Transportation. (Not yet available in Rosetta Stone.)
For those of you that have experience living in a big city with lively and fully functioning public transportation, this is probably a language you already know. But coming from a small town near a big city that relies on the automobile for a person's main means of transport - the public transportation system is not our first language, or forte.
But, rule # 7 is this: If you learn how to navigate the public transportation system, it will be almost as if you actually speak the language.
For example, I don't speak Dutch, French, German, much Italian, or any of the Scandinavian languages, but within seconds of entering a train station I can now find the information booth, and know which word means platform, train number, etc. I never understand what the people on the overhead announcements are saying when they speak to the passengers, but I have learned how to recognize when it's time for our stop. (For the most part - more on that later...) I know now what "next stop" is in multiple languages. I know when they want to see my ticket/rail pass, even though I never understand what they're saying.
I've learned to simply recognize the word of the stop, and can successfully communicate to a native where I need to be. I never have a clue what the rest of the words are, and I couldn't carry on a more detailed conversation with any of the natives in the countries, but I can successfully count the number of stops from where I am (insert the name I just read from the sign here), to where I need to be (insert the name of the location I need here).
But just because we're learning a new language doesn't mean we always win when it comes to speaking this language.
Most of you know this, but I'm going to state it anyway. Alex and I, we're Texans. Not just any Texans either, we're from the DFW/Houston/Austin areas. Those are the places Alex and I have spent the most time while living in the Lone Star State. Those of you familiar with said cities and our state are familiar with the lack of a public transportation system that could legitimately rival Europe's.
Just when we thought we'd really conquered the train system in Europe, this occurred:
16:37 we're supposed to leave from Florence to Pisa. Italian trains are notorious for running on their own schedule, and true to form, our train pulls away from the station at 16:57. Given this delay, I mentally factor in an extra 20 minutes until we're supposed to arrive at our destination. The train to Pisa is roughly an hour.five long. We didn't sleep the healthy 8-9 hours the night before, so on the train Alex dozes off. He usually seems to count on me to be on top of the game when we're on the train and he's tired, and I don't mind. But after being on trains for 2 months on a regular basis, we've caught on to when we can relax and when we need to keep alert. This train on the schedule appears to be ending in Pisa, and that kind of stop is nearly impossible to miss. So while I never doze off on the train, I definitely nod off once or twice. And at one point, I start to think "we should have made it to Pisa by now." But as I'm aware of the reputation of Italy trains, I'm not concerned. Although...it's never served me poorly to ask for directions, so I walk up to an old woman with kind eyes, and ask her how far to Pisa.
"Pisa?"
"Si."
(Points over her shoulder). "Back. We...already pass. You miss."
"Oh."
Honestly, I'm not concerned, or really jilted. It's just one of those moments where I realize, what the heck are you going to do?
So I return to my seat and inform Alex. He responds with the same composed demeanor. I mean honestly, what are you going to do at this point? So we at first consider getting off at the next big stop. But after one smaller stop, we begin to think it could be quite a while before we get to the next major station. So we get off at the next stop, anticipating a train will come through heading in the opposite direction to take us back from whence we came.
The lady with kind eyes gets off at the same random stop we chose: S. Stefano Magra. (Actually, it's a beautiful place, definitely not a bad place to get stranded.) The lady continues in her kindness by asking again, "You go to Pisa, no?" We nod, and then explain we'd like to get there or to Rome. She proceeds to explain to us that this isn't a major station, and we can't get to Rome from here. But we can get back to Pisa, or carry on to La Spezia. She runs off to check the schedule. (This should be known - we're under a bit of a time crunch. From Pisa, trains don't run all night to Rome, and we're currently running the risk of missing the last train of the day. This fact is in the back of our minds the entire time.) Turns out there's a rain leaving within the hour that gets back to Pisa, but it doesn't arrive until roughly 15 minutes past the last train to Rome. The reason we're so keen on getting straight to Rome tonight is this: we have a Couchsurfing host there awaiting us, and not only would we prefer not to pay for accomodations if we already have them lined up, but we're anxious to get to Rome, meet up with Allison, and explore.)
So we hope the next train to La Spezia at 19:28. Arriving at La Spezia Centrale at 19:46, we have roughly 14 minutes to catch the train to Rome, the last train of the evening. But, it requires a reservation, and we've arrived a few minutes late. So I drop my stuff down with Alex at the platform, and race off to secure a reservation for us. (If you don't make a reservation for a train that requires one, you can incur a 40 euro fee, if not more.) But not only am I running short on time, but I really have to pee, don't have any time to do so, and while a nice Nigerian let me go in front of him in my angst and rush, the two Chinese girls at the counter in front of me did not share my passion for alacrity at the moment. By 19:58 I figure it's worth the 40 euro fee as long as we catch our train, and I run back to the platform where I left Alex. Right as I run up the stairs, the train pulls up, and we quickly grab our bags and hop on. I explain I didn't manage to get reservations, but Alex, noticing the lack of humanity aboard said train, doesn't think it's going to be a problem.
Now we're on the train. Insert sigh of relief here. There aren't many feelings better than catching the train you needed when you thought you surely wouldn't make it. We've experienced this feeling multiple times during our travels. As Christian would say, we're "time optimists."
I drop my stuff in our seats and run off to find a bathroom, glad we can finally relax from this minor catastrophe of ending up in the unfamiliar small towns of Italy.
But as I'm walking around the train, I'm recognizing that for a "reservation compulsory" train, it's rather dingy. My first opinion is only confirmed when I try the first bathroom, the lock is broken, and I nearly walk in on someone doing their business.
"Mi dispiace."
Second bathroom is unoccupied, but the toilet is missing a seat cover, toilet paper, paper towels, and soap. What it does have is a faucet that works, but only for 2.7 seconds, and all that time it merely sputters out. Beautiful.
I return to my seat, to find my observations confirmed: the dingy-ness of this train does not match up to the typical train that requires a reservation. Why? When I return to my seat, Alex looks at me and exclaims, "I think we're on the wrong train."
You're kidding me.
Turns out we hopped the train on platform 2, and we should have been on platform 3, the one directly behind the wrong one we took. (There are downsides to the flexibility a rail pass provides.)
So now we discover, after my broken Italian words helps me ascertain information from the only other person on the train, that we're bound for Genova/Genoa. We will be arriving there at 21:30.
At this point there's no hope in making it to Roma tonight, as we're only getting further away, and the train system is nearly completion for the day. Fortunately, and for this I'm quite thankful, the city towards which we are headed is in our guidebook, and I am able to call and reserve us a room so we have a place to sleep that night. What awaits us is a very nice bed upon which to sleep, with breakfast included in the price, and the most cheerful and welcoming Italian concierge we've ever met.
On the plus side, I am thankful for guidebooks, our pay-as-you-go-phones, and a God that provides. Not to mention, who knew one could get access to your email, Facebook, and bank account from the Kindle experimental basic web feature? Nifty.
But just because we're learning a new language doesn't mean we always win when it comes to speaking this language.
Most of you know this, but I'm going to state it anyway. Alex and I, we're Texans. Not just any Texans either, we're from the DFW/Houston/Austin areas. Those are the places Alex and I have spent the most time while living in the Lone Star State. Those of you familiar with said cities and our state are familiar with the lack of a public transportation system that could legitimately rival Europe's.
Just when we thought we'd really conquered the train system in Europe, this occurred:
16:37 we're supposed to leave from Florence to Pisa. Italian trains are notorious for running on their own schedule, and true to form, our train pulls away from the station at 16:57. Given this delay, I mentally factor in an extra 20 minutes until we're supposed to arrive at our destination. The train to Pisa is roughly an hour.five long. We didn't sleep the healthy 8-9 hours the night before, so on the train Alex dozes off. He usually seems to count on me to be on top of the game when we're on the train and he's tired, and I don't mind. But after being on trains for 2 months on a regular basis, we've caught on to when we can relax and when we need to keep alert. This train on the schedule appears to be ending in Pisa, and that kind of stop is nearly impossible to miss. So while I never doze off on the train, I definitely nod off once or twice. And at one point, I start to think "we should have made it to Pisa by now." But as I'm aware of the reputation of Italy trains, I'm not concerned. Although...it's never served me poorly to ask for directions, so I walk up to an old woman with kind eyes, and ask her how far to Pisa.
"Pisa?"
"Si."
(Points over her shoulder). "Back. We...already pass. You miss."
"Oh."
Honestly, I'm not concerned, or really jilted. It's just one of those moments where I realize, what the heck are you going to do?
So I return to my seat and inform Alex. He responds with the same composed demeanor. I mean honestly, what are you going to do at this point? So we at first consider getting off at the next big stop. But after one smaller stop, we begin to think it could be quite a while before we get to the next major station. So we get off at the next stop, anticipating a train will come through heading in the opposite direction to take us back from whence we came.
The lady with kind eyes gets off at the same random stop we chose: S. Stefano Magra. (Actually, it's a beautiful place, definitely not a bad place to get stranded.) The lady continues in her kindness by asking again, "You go to Pisa, no?" We nod, and then explain we'd like to get there or to Rome. She proceeds to explain to us that this isn't a major station, and we can't get to Rome from here. But we can get back to Pisa, or carry on to La Spezia. She runs off to check the schedule. (This should be known - we're under a bit of a time crunch. From Pisa, trains don't run all night to Rome, and we're currently running the risk of missing the last train of the day. This fact is in the back of our minds the entire time.) Turns out there's a rain leaving within the hour that gets back to Pisa, but it doesn't arrive until roughly 15 minutes past the last train to Rome. The reason we're so keen on getting straight to Rome tonight is this: we have a Couchsurfing host there awaiting us, and not only would we prefer not to pay for accomodations if we already have them lined up, but we're anxious to get to Rome, meet up with Allison, and explore.)
So we hope the next train to La Spezia at 19:28. Arriving at La Spezia Centrale at 19:46, we have roughly 14 minutes to catch the train to Rome, the last train of the evening. But, it requires a reservation, and we've arrived a few minutes late. So I drop my stuff down with Alex at the platform, and race off to secure a reservation for us. (If you don't make a reservation for a train that requires one, you can incur a 40 euro fee, if not more.) But not only am I running short on time, but I really have to pee, don't have any time to do so, and while a nice Nigerian let me go in front of him in my angst and rush, the two Chinese girls at the counter in front of me did not share my passion for alacrity at the moment. By 19:58 I figure it's worth the 40 euro fee as long as we catch our train, and I run back to the platform where I left Alex. Right as I run up the stairs, the train pulls up, and we quickly grab our bags and hop on. I explain I didn't manage to get reservations, but Alex, noticing the lack of humanity aboard said train, doesn't think it's going to be a problem.
Now we're on the train. Insert sigh of relief here. There aren't many feelings better than catching the train you needed when you thought you surely wouldn't make it. We've experienced this feeling multiple times during our travels. As Christian would say, we're "time optimists."
I drop my stuff in our seats and run off to find a bathroom, glad we can finally relax from this minor catastrophe of ending up in the unfamiliar small towns of Italy.
But as I'm walking around the train, I'm recognizing that for a "reservation compulsory" train, it's rather dingy. My first opinion is only confirmed when I try the first bathroom, the lock is broken, and I nearly walk in on someone doing their business.
"Mi dispiace."
Second bathroom is unoccupied, but the toilet is missing a seat cover, toilet paper, paper towels, and soap. What it does have is a faucet that works, but only for 2.7 seconds, and all that time it merely sputters out. Beautiful.
I return to my seat, to find my observations confirmed: the dingy-ness of this train does not match up to the typical train that requires a reservation. Why? When I return to my seat, Alex looks at me and exclaims, "I think we're on the wrong train."
You're kidding me.
Turns out we hopped the train on platform 2, and we should have been on platform 3, the one directly behind the wrong one we took. (There are downsides to the flexibility a rail pass provides.)
So now we discover, after my broken Italian words helps me ascertain information from the only other person on the train, that we're bound for Genova/Genoa. We will be arriving there at 21:30.
At this point there's no hope in making it to Roma tonight, as we're only getting further away, and the train system is nearly completion for the day. Fortunately, and for this I'm quite thankful, the city towards which we are headed is in our guidebook, and I am able to call and reserve us a room so we have a place to sleep that night. What awaits us is a very nice bed upon which to sleep, with breakfast included in the price, and the most cheerful and welcoming Italian concierge we've ever met.
On the plus side, I am thankful for guidebooks, our pay-as-you-go-phones, and a God that provides. Not to mention, who knew one could get access to your email, Facebook, and bank account from the Kindle experimental basic web feature? Nifty.
“A good traveller has no fixed plans, and is not intent on arriving.” – Lao Tzu
"Tourists don’t know where they’ve been, travellers don’t know where they’re going.” – Paul Theroux
"Tourists don’t know where they’ve been, travellers don’t know where they’re going.” – Paul Theroux
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