Since this post is being published so late, you might want to go back and read the previous just to make sure you are keeping up with the story. At this rate, I'll finish the entire anecdote of this 2 week ordeal by the end of the year haha. The problem is that I expected to have much more free time here in Atlanta (I always expect to have a ton of free time for some reason), but today is the only day I've been able to truly sleep-in/relax without having to do anything during the day. I don't have to work till 5, but I've been here since July 12th and this is the first day I can do that. I can't complain though. I've taken about 6.5 weeks of vacation since the beginning of the year and it's only July :-P
I digress. Back to the story.
So in order to get from Milan to Munich you have to catch a train from Milan to Verona for about 10euros. I ended up paying I think about 22eu for my ticket because I bought it same day and there were no more 10eu tickets left for the train I needed to catch. Anywho, the train ride from Milan to Verona was normal. I had Marco help me put all my crap ... I shouldn't call it crap, it's pretty much anything important in life that I own other than all my ZTA paraphernalia and books, which my mom guards daily with her life (ok, that's an exaggeration, but all that stuff stays at her house). OK, again. I digress. Back on topic. So I naively assumed getting my bags from the train platform in Verona to the train that would take me to Munich wouldn't be difficult. Boy was I wrong. Because I had 4 bags and 2 arms I had to make 2 trips about every 10-15 meters. I would take 3 bags and leave them and return to get the last one. What a headache! It took me about 15 long, hard minutes just to get from the platform to the information desk. Why was I going to the information desk instead of the train platform for Munich? Well, that's a good question. Let me tell you.
When I got off the train and asked the Tren Italia representative where the train was for Munich informs me, "Non c'e un treno."
0_o ... "Um yes there is sir. It leaves everyday from this station."
"No. Oggi c'e un pullman."
O_O A bus form Verona to Munich??? This is a joke right? "Well where do I find the bus"
"Non lo so. Deve chiedere qualcuno dove si vendono i biglietti."
Of course you don't know anything. Why did I even ask?
When I arrived at the information desk there was another family who appears to be American, but I'm really bad at mistaking Canadians for Americans so there was really no telling. I eavesdropped a bit on their conversation to see where I should be transporting my life next (with only 15 minutes to spare until the scheduled train/bus was supposed to leave). The dad told me we would have to go outside and ask a representative from the other company because, as I had also overheard, Tren Italia has nothing to do with what happens with these trips. The company is Austrian and the drivers are German (or vise versa. Either way Italy had nothing to do with it, which of course means they didn't know $h!+) The dad offered to take my extra bag and told him son to take one of my other bags. At that point I became a part of their family. :-)
I don't think any of us was expecting what we saw when we walked outside: A mob of people with all of their luggage and one bus. Not several buses prepared to take a train of people to Munich, but one tiny bus. And one very frustrated person answering questions, who didn't seem to speak German or good English, which I imagine made all the German passengers even more irate than the 90 degree Italian heat was making them. The dad (yes I have to call him the dad because I can't, for the life of me, remember his name) was proactive and in command. We all followed him to make our way through the crowd and get our bags on the bus. Now the hard part. Actually getting ON the bus. It was chaos. There were dozens of passengers crowding the tiny bus door, one man on the bus counting empty seats and talking on the phone with another man in the crowd to tell him how many passengers to allow on the bus, and, to my surprise (and advantage) nobody checking tickets. The dad got the whole family on the bus, including me. In fact, he stood behind me and made sure I got on the bus as a part of his family. The world is generally good. Regardless of what the American military teaches new soldiers.
Now, before you start to think I was trying to cheat the system, I wasn't. The woman in Milan told me I could buy a full-fare ticket (79 instead of 39 or 49) for the Verona to Munich train when I was on the train. I had my money ready and thought I would buy a ticket on the bus. So let's just get that out there. :-P Back to the story:
The bus was cramped. Hot. Bags that were supposed to fit in the overhead compartments of a train were strewn through the aisle and sat in people's laps, making it even hotter. The air conditioned blew out the vents full strength, but the sun coming through the large windows made it pretty much obsolete. Fortunately, passengers had left their attitudes at the train station in Verona and everyone was relieved to even be on the bus, not knowing when the company would be sending a second bus to collect more passengers, or IF they would be sending one at all. I sat next to Emily, the coolest 14-year-old girl in North Carolina. She told me about all her travels from the time she was about two, which were just retellings of things her parents had told her of course. We talked about CISV , her private school that has a ton of cool non-academic opportunities for learning, the farmhouse her parents had just bought, her best friend, the Hunger Games, and a host of other things. Karin sat in front of us. I quickly learned that she runs an NGO called LEAP in Guatemala that is searching for student volunteers to do teacher training and professional development for teachers. What a coinkydink since MODEL26 is looking for new sites to send student volunteers to do just that. Karin and I talked a lot about how teachers are overlooked in many charitable efforts. Lots of people build schools and provide resources for students, and not the teachers that have to teach the students. The whole fact that this happens is completely counter-intuitive and counterproductive, but, hey, such is life.
About an hour into the bus ride we had gathered that we'd be getting on a train in Innsbruck and taking that train to Munich, so the bus ride wasn't going to be 6 hours long. We made a quick bus change at the Austrian-Italian border where I expected to be asked for a ticket again, but wasn't. I boarded the train in Innsbruck after asking if I would be able to purchase a ticket on the train. Karin made a good point, "Do you really want to pay a full fare ticket for this horrible 'train' ride?? If nobody asks you, don't offer to pay. Save your money." So that's what I did. The train ride from Innsbruck to Munich was only about an hour and 45 minutes anyway. So how did I do it with ticket checkers walking through the train cars the entire trip?
When we first got on the train I spent a few minutes trying to organize my bags. BTW, there's not compartment for oversized luggage. You just find a space for it. My two big bags found a home between two cars and I kept my little bags with me. After Karin, Emily, Boden, and the dad (lol) got settled in they sent Boden and Emily to tell me there was an empty seat in their car and I should come sit with them. We got settled in and about 5 minutes later decided to go to the dining car while the dad stayed behind to get all the tickets punched. We assumed that the ticket enforcer saw the cute, young black girl with a white family and decided I was the nanny. When he checked the family's tickets he punched them all at once, assuming mine was in there too ;-) For the remainder of the ride, whenever he checked tickets he said, "Oh yes, I already checked yours." Karin told me to keep my mouth shut and go with it. So I did!
We spent most of the time in the dining car because the person's whose seat I was occupying got on at a later stop and the other passenger in their car was a little strange. Not serial killer strange, just "in my culture it's ok to say these kinds of things to strangers" kind of strange. Anywho, we all ate in the dining car. I had some soup and an OJ because I didn't want to eat much. I knew I'd be eating with Chris the Amazing in just a few hours. The tables were set up in fours so I had to sit at the table next to the family, where I met Hans. A German teacher in Guatemala, who, by chance, happened to teach German to the parents of one of the students that attends the school Karin built in the small village. Hans's wife is Guatemalan and he followed her back to her home after meeting her in Germany. It's a small world after all :-)
I told Hans I had to get off at the Munich East station and I would have to listen out for the stops so that I could make the journey back to the train car where my bags were so I wouldn't miss my stop. The second those words left my mouth Hans said, "This is your stop." ... But the train was slowing down too fast! Way too fast. I was going to have to run. Literally run through the other cars in order to get all my stuff off the train before it pulled off. So I ran through 3 cars and pulled my small bags out of the car where all of our stuff was. The kids were close on my heels to make sure I could get my big bags off and the dad not too far behind them. I jumped over a lot of very angry people and just said sorry as much as I could haha. I hopped off the train with my first bag and Boden passed me my other small bag. The dad literally through my two big bags off the train, gave me a hug, and just like that, the train was pulling off again. I had made it. I would later see that my entire right leg was destroyed by this little adventure and I would have three large, green and purple bruises for days. What can I say? I'm fragile.
I gathered my stuff into one neat pile and called Chris. He was only a few stations away and when he arrived at Munich East I saw him across the tracks. He signaled that he would meet me at my platform to help me with my bags and I ran to the staircase to look over the banister where I thought he would come up. To my surprise, he showed up behind me, grabbing me around the waist with his right arm and his suitcase handle in his left hand. Only a split second passed before his left arm forgot about the suitcase and we were in a full embrace. His arms are long, and I always forget how tiny my torso is until they are wrapped around my waist. We looked into each other's eyes and cherished the moment of being together. His eyes were gentle, as they always are, but excited. I love that about him. His eyes really are the gateway to his soul. I haven't decided if he doesn't try to conceal his emotions, or if he is literally unable to because his eyes speak so much. Either way, I can always tell what he's feeling and thinking. And, at that moment, I knew we were thinking the same thing: When I left Munich on June 21 neither of us expected to see the other until September. It was nice being together again, so soon, even if for only what we thought would be a few days. What we didn't know is that those few days would quickly turn to 10. :-) But for now we weren't concerned about the past, nor the future, just this moment. For me, there was no noise. I wasn't worried about my bags. There were no other people. Just us. And then his lips met mine at a nice halfway point between a peck and a full blown kiss. Just enough for me to feel wanted, but nothing too inappropriate for the train platform. We stayed there in each others arms for what seemed like forever. But not forever in the way where you look at your watch waiting for the time to pass. Forever in the way that you wish forever would never end. ...
And that's how I began my 10 days stuck on a buddy pass in Germany ...
I digress. Back to the story.
So in order to get from Milan to Munich you have to catch a train from Milan to Verona for about 10euros. I ended up paying I think about 22eu for my ticket because I bought it same day and there were no more 10eu tickets left for the train I needed to catch. Anywho, the train ride from Milan to Verona was normal. I had Marco help me put all my crap ... I shouldn't call it crap, it's pretty much anything important in life that I own other than all my ZTA paraphernalia and books, which my mom guards daily with her life (ok, that's an exaggeration, but all that stuff stays at her house). OK, again. I digress. Back on topic. So I naively assumed getting my bags from the train platform in Verona to the train that would take me to Munich wouldn't be difficult. Boy was I wrong. Because I had 4 bags and 2 arms I had to make 2 trips about every 10-15 meters. I would take 3 bags and leave them and return to get the last one. What a headache! It took me about 15 long, hard minutes just to get from the platform to the information desk. Why was I going to the information desk instead of the train platform for Munich? Well, that's a good question. Let me tell you.
When I got off the train and asked the Tren Italia representative where the train was for Munich informs me, "Non c'e un treno."
0_o ... "Um yes there is sir. It leaves everyday from this station."
"No. Oggi c'e un pullman."
O_O A bus form Verona to Munich??? This is a joke right? "Well where do I find the bus"
"Non lo so. Deve chiedere qualcuno dove si vendono i biglietti."
Of course you don't know anything. Why did I even ask?
When I arrived at the information desk there was another family who appears to be American, but I'm really bad at mistaking Canadians for Americans so there was really no telling. I eavesdropped a bit on their conversation to see where I should be transporting my life next (with only 15 minutes to spare until the scheduled train/bus was supposed to leave). The dad told me we would have to go outside and ask a representative from the other company because, as I had also overheard, Tren Italia has nothing to do with what happens with these trips. The company is Austrian and the drivers are German (or vise versa. Either way Italy had nothing to do with it, which of course means they didn't know $h!+) The dad offered to take my extra bag and told him son to take one of my other bags. At that point I became a part of their family. :-)
I don't think any of us was expecting what we saw when we walked outside: A mob of people with all of their luggage and one bus. Not several buses prepared to take a train of people to Munich, but one tiny bus. And one very frustrated person answering questions, who didn't seem to speak German or good English, which I imagine made all the German passengers even more irate than the 90 degree Italian heat was making them. The dad (yes I have to call him the dad because I can't, for the life of me, remember his name) was proactive and in command. We all followed him to make our way through the crowd and get our bags on the bus. Now the hard part. Actually getting ON the bus. It was chaos. There were dozens of passengers crowding the tiny bus door, one man on the bus counting empty seats and talking on the phone with another man in the crowd to tell him how many passengers to allow on the bus, and, to my surprise (and advantage) nobody checking tickets. The dad got the whole family on the bus, including me. In fact, he stood behind me and made sure I got on the bus as a part of his family. The world is generally good. Regardless of what the American military teaches new soldiers.
Now, before you start to think I was trying to cheat the system, I wasn't. The woman in Milan told me I could buy a full-fare ticket (79 instead of 39 or 49) for the Verona to Munich train when I was on the train. I had my money ready and thought I would buy a ticket on the bus. So let's just get that out there. :-P Back to the story:
The bus was cramped. Hot. Bags that were supposed to fit in the overhead compartments of a train were strewn through the aisle and sat in people's laps, making it even hotter. The air conditioned blew out the vents full strength, but the sun coming through the large windows made it pretty much obsolete. Fortunately, passengers had left their attitudes at the train station in Verona and everyone was relieved to even be on the bus, not knowing when the company would be sending a second bus to collect more passengers, or IF they would be sending one at all. I sat next to Emily, the coolest 14-year-old girl in North Carolina. She told me about all her travels from the time she was about two, which were just retellings of things her parents had told her of course. We talked about CISV , her private school that has a ton of cool non-academic opportunities for learning, the farmhouse her parents had just bought, her best friend, the Hunger Games, and a host of other things. Karin sat in front of us. I quickly learned that she runs an NGO called LEAP in Guatemala that is searching for student volunteers to do teacher training and professional development for teachers. What a coinkydink since MODEL26 is looking for new sites to send student volunteers to do just that. Karin and I talked a lot about how teachers are overlooked in many charitable efforts. Lots of people build schools and provide resources for students, and not the teachers that have to teach the students. The whole fact that this happens is completely counter-intuitive and counterproductive, but, hey, such is life.
About an hour into the bus ride we had gathered that we'd be getting on a train in Innsbruck and taking that train to Munich, so the bus ride wasn't going to be 6 hours long. We made a quick bus change at the Austrian-Italian border where I expected to be asked for a ticket again, but wasn't. I boarded the train in Innsbruck after asking if I would be able to purchase a ticket on the train. Karin made a good point, "Do you really want to pay a full fare ticket for this horrible 'train' ride?? If nobody asks you, don't offer to pay. Save your money." So that's what I did. The train ride from Innsbruck to Munich was only about an hour and 45 minutes anyway. So how did I do it with ticket checkers walking through the train cars the entire trip?
When we first got on the train I spent a few minutes trying to organize my bags. BTW, there's not compartment for oversized luggage. You just find a space for it. My two big bags found a home between two cars and I kept my little bags with me. After Karin, Emily, Boden, and the dad (lol) got settled in they sent Boden and Emily to tell me there was an empty seat in their car and I should come sit with them. We got settled in and about 5 minutes later decided to go to the dining car while the dad stayed behind to get all the tickets punched. We assumed that the ticket enforcer saw the cute, young black girl with a white family and decided I was the nanny. When he checked the family's tickets he punched them all at once, assuming mine was in there too ;-) For the remainder of the ride, whenever he checked tickets he said, "Oh yes, I already checked yours." Karin told me to keep my mouth shut and go with it. So I did!
We spent most of the time in the dining car because the person's whose seat I was occupying got on at a later stop and the other passenger in their car was a little strange. Not serial killer strange, just "in my culture it's ok to say these kinds of things to strangers" kind of strange. Anywho, we all ate in the dining car. I had some soup and an OJ because I didn't want to eat much. I knew I'd be eating with Chris the Amazing in just a few hours. The tables were set up in fours so I had to sit at the table next to the family, where I met Hans. A German teacher in Guatemala, who, by chance, happened to teach German to the parents of one of the students that attends the school Karin built in the small village. Hans's wife is Guatemalan and he followed her back to her home after meeting her in Germany. It's a small world after all :-)
I told Hans I had to get off at the Munich East station and I would have to listen out for the stops so that I could make the journey back to the train car where my bags were so I wouldn't miss my stop. The second those words left my mouth Hans said, "This is your stop." ... But the train was slowing down too fast! Way too fast. I was going to have to run. Literally run through the other cars in order to get all my stuff off the train before it pulled off. So I ran through 3 cars and pulled my small bags out of the car where all of our stuff was. The kids were close on my heels to make sure I could get my big bags off and the dad not too far behind them. I jumped over a lot of very angry people and just said sorry as much as I could haha. I hopped off the train with my first bag and Boden passed me my other small bag. The dad literally through my two big bags off the train, gave me a hug, and just like that, the train was pulling off again. I had made it. I would later see that my entire right leg was destroyed by this little adventure and I would have three large, green and purple bruises for days. What can I say? I'm fragile.
I gathered my stuff into one neat pile and called Chris. He was only a few stations away and when he arrived at Munich East I saw him across the tracks. He signaled that he would meet me at my platform to help me with my bags and I ran to the staircase to look over the banister where I thought he would come up. To my surprise, he showed up behind me, grabbing me around the waist with his right arm and his suitcase handle in his left hand. Only a split second passed before his left arm forgot about the suitcase and we were in a full embrace. His arms are long, and I always forget how tiny my torso is until they are wrapped around my waist. We looked into each other's eyes and cherished the moment of being together. His eyes were gentle, as they always are, but excited. I love that about him. His eyes really are the gateway to his soul. I haven't decided if he doesn't try to conceal his emotions, or if he is literally unable to because his eyes speak so much. Either way, I can always tell what he's feeling and thinking. And, at that moment, I knew we were thinking the same thing: When I left Munich on June 21 neither of us expected to see the other until September. It was nice being together again, so soon, even if for only what we thought would be a few days. What we didn't know is that those few days would quickly turn to 10. :-) But for now we weren't concerned about the past, nor the future, just this moment. For me, there was no noise. I wasn't worried about my bags. There were no other people. Just us. And then his lips met mine at a nice halfway point between a peck and a full blown kiss. Just enough for me to feel wanted, but nothing too inappropriate for the train platform. We stayed there in each others arms for what seemed like forever. But not forever in the way where you look at your watch waiting for the time to pass. Forever in the way that you wish forever would never end. ...
And that's how I began my 10 days stuck on a buddy pass in Germany ...
2 comments:
So is this adventure story, a love story or a combo of both?!
Both, of course!
Post a Comment