The first of my gap year trips was to Tuscany, an area I had not visited previously. In fact I had not been to Italy before, so it was a new country to add to the list. As my flight took me to Pisa on the day after I had left work I had only the vaguest of notions about how I would be spending the first 9 days of freedom. Booking into the Buddhist hotel was a deliberate ploy. I had been to several Buddhist retreats previously and they had always proved to be very relaxing and refreshing. A few days of simply chilling out and adjusting to my new life was needed. It didn’t quite begin as I had hoped.
The flight was smooth enough. I forked out 12 pounds for extra leg room and this afforded me first class status. I had three seats all to myself and the aircrew treated me like a VIP. It was well worth additional cost and got my travels off to a worthy start.
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 boarded 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, should you ever find yourself in the same situation), 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. Something was wrong. I went through a mental checklist and suddenly 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 was still there. I went back to my seat but the laptop was nowhere to be seen. I searched the train frantically, eventually reaching the driver. Might my laptop have been handed to him?
'Do you speak English?’ I said hurriedly, no time for phrase books.
'No!' he replied curtly.
Panic and fear began to crush me. There was so much on the laptop that I needed, losing it would be a disaster. I tried to think of when I had last backed up my files and calculate the damage. This was an awful way to begin my trip.
Lacking other options, I returned to my seat and looked again. The luggage rack remained empty.
There were two choices. Either someone had nicked my laptop and I could rush through the station and try to find the swine. Or, I could calm down and try to be rational. I took a deep breath.
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 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 familiar laptop case.
Hot and sweaty I clambered off the train to the relief of a group of watching Italians who were clearly wondering what the hell I was doing 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 again 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 - birra.
With time to spare I made my way to the allotted platform. There was a very nice train there and clearly it hadn’t been left overnight in a skate park as it was almost tag free. The trouble was there was no illuminated sign on the platform 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 decided to chance it.
Not only was it the right train, it was air conditioned and I arrived at Montecatini Terme quite fresh. Unfortunately, the 25 minute search for the hotel in the raging afternoon heat soon changed that to a state of being soaked in sweat once more.
My hotel proved to be quiet and spacious and I was afforded the warm welcome I have come to expect from practising Buddhists. My room was light and airy, with a huge balcony. The only downside was the lack of alcohol on the premises. I was dying for a cold birra.
Next time - Taking the waters
The flight was smooth enough. I forked out 12 pounds for extra leg room and this afforded me first class status. I had three seats all to myself and the aircrew treated me like a VIP. It was well worth additional cost and got my travels off to a worthy start.
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 boarded 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, should you ever find yourself in the same situation), 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. Something was wrong. I went through a mental checklist and suddenly 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 was still there. I went back to my seat but the laptop was nowhere to be seen. I searched the train frantically, eventually reaching the driver. Might my laptop have been handed to him?
'Do you speak English?’ I said hurriedly, no time for phrase books.
'No!' he replied curtly.
Panic and fear began to crush me. There was so much on the laptop that I needed, losing it would be a disaster. I tried to think of when I had last backed up my files and calculate the damage. This was an awful way to begin my trip.
Lacking other options, I returned to my seat and looked again. The luggage rack remained empty.
There were two choices. Either someone had nicked my laptop and I could rush through the station and try to find the swine. Or, I could calm down and try to be rational. I took a deep breath.
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 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 familiar laptop case.
Hot and sweaty I clambered off the train to the relief of a group of watching Italians who were clearly wondering what the hell I was doing 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 again 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 - birra.
With time to spare I made my way to the allotted platform. There was a very nice train there and clearly it hadn’t been left overnight in a skate park as it was almost tag free. The trouble was there was no illuminated sign on the platform 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 decided to chance it.
Not only was it the right train, it was air conditioned and I arrived at Montecatini Terme quite fresh. Unfortunately, the 25 minute search for the hotel in the raging afternoon heat soon changed that to a state of being soaked in sweat once more.
My hotel proved to be quiet and spacious and I was afforded the warm welcome I have come to expect from practising Buddhists. My room was light and airy, with a huge balcony. The only downside was the lack of alcohol on the premises. I was dying for a cold birra.
Next time - Taking the waters
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