Buenosera!

After a hectic day of travelling Wainwright and I are safely ensconced in our hotel in Montecatini, Tuscany. The day has not been without its traumas though!

The flight was fantastic. I had paid an extra 12 quid for additional leg-room on the plane. This seemed to afford me First Class status as far as Jet2 are concerned as there were spare seats with leg room and I was offered a move away from the guy falling asleep on my shoulder to have three whole seats to myself, all at the front and with loads of room. I've never had so much space on a plane.

My problems started when I switched to travelling by train as I had three of the damn things to catch. The first one was the shuttle from the airport to Pisa Centrali. The ticket machine was out of order so I borded the train without a ticket. This prompted me to reach for my phrase book and learn the Italian for 'the machine is broken' (la machinno a rotto, in case you are wondering), as I was sure I would be challenged by some official or other. I wasn't.

I got off the train and made my way down the ramp to the main station. Suddenly, I realised I had left my laptop on the overhead luggage rack. Lugging my heavy bag I hurried back and found with relief that the train as still there. I went back to my seat but the laptop was nowhere to be seen. Ahh, panic! Frantically I searched the train and found the driver to ask if it had been handed in. No time for phrase books so I said 'Do you speak English?, to which he replied 'No!'. Clearly all train staff are taught to the same standard of unhelpfulness so I looked again. There was my seat, but no laptop.

There were two choices. Either someone had nicked it and I could rush through the station and try to find the swine. Or, I could calm down and try to be rational.

Italian trains must park overnight at a place where kids with spray paint roam at will, for all the trains I saw had bright graffitti, or tags on them. I had noticed that my window was a virulent purple because of the paint outside. When I checked it now, it was clean. Clearly the computer thief had cleaned the bloody window to throw me off the scent. How dastardly can you get?

Then I noticed a purple window on the opposite side of the train, in a seat very similar to the one I had travelled in. And just above it was a familar black laptop case.

Hot and sweaty I clambered of the train to the relief of a group of watching Italians who were clearly wondering what the hell I was up to rushing up and down the train. 'Ah, computer!' they said as one as understanding dawned. Another word learned.

My next train took me to Lucca, where I had to change and catch the Florence (Firenze) train.

Getting the hang of things I soon bought a ticket and worked out that the next train was not for another 40 minutes. Outside the station I found a very small bar where I was able to learn another word, this time the Italian for beer - beera. I'll soon be speaking the lingo like a native.

With lots of time to spare I made my way to the allotted platform. There was a very nice train there and clearly it isn't left overnight in a skatepark as it was almost tag free. The trouble was there was no illuminated sign to tell if this was the Firenze train and nothing on the front indicate where it was going either. Should I get on and risk it leaving suddenly for destination unknown?

I sat down for a think. My reasoning was:

If this is the wrong train it will go soon to make way for the right train.
Or, it could just stay where it is and I will witness a huge crash when the right train appears.
Or, I could wait until the last minute and then if it leaves at the allotted time it was the right train after all. I chose the latter option.

You may have thought of a fourth option - check the timetable and if no other train is due to depart from this platform then it must be the right train. But this would have entailed a long, hot journey under the platforms and up and downstairs with my heavy bag to find the answer. Wheelchair access is not due in Italian stations until the next century.

Not only was this the right train, it was air conditioned and I arrived at Montecatini Terme quite fresh. Unfortunately, the 25 minute search for the bloody hotel in the raging afternoon heat soon changed that to a state of being soaked in sweat once more.

To end then there is good news and bad news. The good news is the hotel is fantastic. My room has a huge balcony attached and very nice air con. The food is exquisite. Probably the best vegetarian food I have ever eaten. And everyone here is nice and most of the staff speak English.
It's a brilliant place.

The bad news is I didn't quite think to pack everything. You know those little wire cables that connect your camera to the computer so you can download pictures? Well, mine is still at home so although Wainwright is looking very dapper in his Hull City shirt and sitting on my windowsill
right now, I can't actually show you him. Sorry.

Tomorrow is Sunday and officially a chill out and get orientated day. Let's see what it brings.

Live long and prosper.