Off to Inverness

September 3 – There was some time to kill before going to the train station so we walked from the hotel to the tour company office. We saw fun signs, colorful buildings. and a cathedral I am apparently obsessing over.

Our business tended to we returned to the hotel to collect our bags and got a taxi to the train station. I was pretty excited to be on our way to Inverness.

Off the train we got a taxi to the airbnb. The driver was a bit of an ass, apparently we were really putting him out by asking him to take us to the other side of the river. We dropped off our bags and got a dinner suggestion from our host. We enjoyed a lovely view on our short walk to the restaurant. We talked in and were asked if he had a reservation. We did not, but there also wasn’t a shortage of tables so I was a little confused. They told us they would seat us as long as we were done with our meal by 7pm. No problem! As long as you won’t take forever to prepare our meal, we won’t feel compelled to linger. Oh my goodness it was a delicious.

Bellies full we took a little walk along the river and to the meeting point for the next days tour.

 

Unraveled in Paris

August 18 – My previous experiences with Paris had been casual encounters as I passed through to somewhere else. I was pretty excited when I woke up. My friend, Jennifer, was on her way to Paris from Colorado and I was looking forward to seeing the city. I had some time before she arrived and I thought I should probably get the photos copied from the phone to my computer. I went to my bag to get the cord and realized I really needed to get some laundry done. Distracted I grabbed all my clothes and headed to the laundromat I’d seen the night before. I took a picture and made a flip comment on Facebook for my friends back home to not be jealous.

There was a nice French guy that came in and started talking to me as I tried to figure out the soap dispenser. He helped me get it sorted out then left, indicating he had forgotten something at his flat and he’d be back. He never did return which I thought was a little odd, but whatever. Laundry done I packed it back to the hotel and decided I may as well get started to the airport.

At the train station I confidently purchased my fare to the airport and went through the turn style. Having just been to the airport yesterday I knew what station to transfer at and where to catch the line to the airport. What hadn’t dawned me until I was at the transfer point is I was on my way to the wrong airport. SHIT! So I talk to the guys at the information booth and they tell me I can’t get the ticket changed to get to the correct airport. They escorted me through an odd entrance to lead me back to the ticket booth where I had to purchase a new ticket. Well that was annoying, and a bit costly. As I went through the turn style and back into the main station there was a woman pushing on me, trying to push herself behind me through the turn style. I stopped and she got caught on the other side. It made me uncomfortable enough I checked to make sure my wallet and phone were in tact. Everything is accounted for.

I finally figured out the right train to take to Orly. A few transfers later and I was at the airport. Thankfully Jennifer and I didn’t have too much trouble connecting at the airport. She was traveling light so we didn’t have to wait for checked bags so we hopped the train. We transferred through the same station and I swear I saw the same woman hanging around the station. Interesting coincidence in such a big city. As we exited the final train at our station I felt my phone slip in my front pants pocket. I pushed it back toward the front of the pocket thinking nothing of it. At the turn style I stood beside Jennifer helping show her how to insert the ticket to get through. I put my ticket into the slot and as I walked through the turn style I felt my phone slip out of my pocket. At first I thought I had simply dropped it but as I turned and the door closed I saw a man running away. F*CK, he’s got my phone!! The only other guy on the other side of the turn style had his headphones on. There was no way for me to get back through the door and what would I have done anyway? I wasn’t going to catch him. No doubt he’d already hopped on a train and there were so many options. I bought a ticket to get me back through the turn style and decided to check the station just in case maybe I’d dropped it. Hoping. Praying. Nothing.

I returned to Jennifer and went to the ticket counter. Fortunately one of the attendants spoke enough English I was able to tell him what happened. He seemed genuinely surprised my phone had been pick pocketed right there in his station. I guess I didn’t did enough screaming or something. There was nothing they could do but provide me the address for the nearest police station.

My mind was racing as we left the train station and headed to the hotel. I laughed because I had just shattered the screen a few days earlier. With the encryption needed for work stuff I felt reasonably safe they wouldn’t be getting logged in to the phone easily. We rushed to the hotel where I was able to get online and disable the phone so I was feeling like they had just stolen a brick that was going to be essentially useless. I changed all the passwords on related accounts and then it hit me. O.M.G! I didn’t copy over my pictures. NOOOOOO!!! My heart sank. I did some digging hoping there was a way for Google to pull the data off my phone. Unfortunately I had shut off syncing with the cloud because of the resources it uses. Ten days worth of photos were essentially gone. Some of the most memorable moments of my life. I was mad, mostly at myself because I had planned on saving those pictures that morning but hadn’t. It was a really tough lesson to learn. Fortunately I’ll always have the memories.

After I finished with my freak out and doing what I could to secure my information and accounts Jennifer and I went down the street to the market. We found a bakery that had delicious sandwiches and we stopped at another shop for a bottle of wine. We opted to wait until the next day to go report the phone stolen. We returned to the hotel where I started my work day and Jennifer tried to work out her jetlag.

Delayed arrival in Munich – July 19

I finally forced myself out the door and up to the bus stop. I wasn’t sure why I was so reluctant to leave but my host in Munich was waiting and it was going to be a fairly lengthy trip.

Made it to Konstanz for the first train. A woman sitting near me on the platform got up to take something to the trash and asked if I’d watch her bag. I’m learning to appreciate these chance encounters as a few minutes later she saved me from a lot of hassle when they changed the departure platform for our train. The message was in German and I never would have known had she not told me.

Train was Konstanz was delayed 20 minutes. I checked my Rail Planner app, I should still have plenty of time to catch my next connection. The Konstanz train arrives, we pull out of the station and down the track a few minutes and stop. We waited, and waited, and waited some more. My blood pressure was rising. I don’t know how long we sat there, or why, but I knew I wasn’t going to make my connecting train. Search the app, find another route.

At the connecting station I hop from one train to another with barely a moment to spare. We leave the station, get down the tracks a few minutes, and stop. Ugh! I noticed the girl I’d talked to on the platform in Konstanz and she looks even more stressed than me. I got up and went over to talk to her. She was trying to get to Stuttgart airport to catch a plane. I really felt for her and I got a little perspective.

The train started moving again and as I got off at the ULM station I wished her well. I found the platform for my final train into Munich. Bah! Delayed! I was pretty surprised (as well as frustrated) because I hadn’t had issues like this with any of the trains over the last bunch of weeks of traveling. It wasn’t until that moment that I thought about the attack on the train in Würzburg the night before. While Konstanz, and the stations for my connections, weren’t terribly close to Wurzburg I suppose there could have been a ripple effect.

I finally made it to Munich, found my way to the metro station then on to my hosts apartment. Got settled in and started work. Apparently I was too annoyed or just not terribly inspired by my surroundings because I didn’t take a single picture of the journey.

Milan to St. Moritz – July 7

A nearly 6 hour train journey was in store and I needed to be back to civilization to work by 6pm. Despite the distance it was only going to be one train change. That’s always nice to see. The more trains there are, the more potential for issues or delays. The only issue on this train? My inattentiveness. As I went to sit my pants pocket caught on the armrest and ripped open. And no, it wasn’t just a little tear. Not what you want happening when your clothing options are already limited. Good thing I packed a sewing kit!

This has been my favorite train journey so far. I got some really incredible views of Lake Como, Italy as we traveled the length of the Eastern shore. The biggest challenge was to get pictures out the train window in the small breaks between trees and buildings.

Off the Italian train and on to the Swiss train where we climbed and climbed right up into the Alps. It was pure bliss! I could feel my blood pressure and body temperature decrease. This is my happy place.

The train was extra special too, it had these large windows you could open. OMG!! No more window glare! The cabin was fairly empty so I rushed from one side of the train to the other capturing pictures, occasionally taking a seat only to jump back up again. I’m sure the older couples on the train thought “stupid tourist” but who cares.

We made a lot of stops, picked up a lot of hikers, and again I found myself wishing I’d done more research. Guess its better to not know what I was missing. This is a destination I will definitely be revisiting some day.

Eventually we wound our way down the mountain and into St. Moritz. It is a stunning mountain town which looks just like what I’d imagined a Swiss town to be.

As I looked up the hill from the bottom where the train station was I decided a taxi was going to suit me just fine. I was a bit embarrassed with how far she actually drove me, but I was still relieved I didn’t have to climb that hill! I handed her Euros, she gave me back Swiss Francs. I wasn’t prepared for that, but apparently that’s what Swiss businesses do. It was a little odd to me because now I have to trust this person 1) knows the current value of the Euro against the Franc and 2)is honest. My next stop was an ATM where I withdrew Francs so I didn’t have to be all suspicious.

Got checked in to my Airbnb and got a recommendation from my host. The food was unpronounceable but really delicious. I sure did appreciate them providing an English description of the menu items.

Dinner companion

Returned to my room to get back to work after a short few days off. Whee!

Colosseum and Roman Forum – July 6

A 10:30am tour of the Colosseum awaited me today. Initially I thought I’d be able to use my hop on/hop off bus ticket to get there, but the route started late enough it wouldn’t be possible. I was fairly close to the San Pietro train station so I hopped a train to the Termini station with the intention to take the metro. Future Rome adventurers should be aware that the walk from where the regional trains drop you to the point you enter the Metro is a long haul. Make sure you allow plenty of time. Already sweaty and a little confused I crammed on the subway with tons of tourists and a handful of unfortunate locales. I can’t imagine what a hassle it must be for locales trying to get to work.

I arrived at the Colosseum where I struggled, again, to figure out where to meet my guide. This is a piece of feedback I’ll be sure to provide them in the future. I walked past the gladiators posing for pictures but stopped to ask the guy selling bus tickets if he knew about a tour group. He pointed me to a scattered group of people I never would have identified as a group. Yay, my people!

It was another really hot day. One thing I can say about a lot of European countries is they are great about providing places for people to refill their water, usually from fountains. Of course the tour is outside but our guide did a great job of doing her longer talks in shaded areas then taking us closer for pictures. As I’m sure you can imagine the complex is immense and there are so many stories. If you go, I’d definitely recommend going with a guide. I feel like I got a lot more out of the experience.

We moved from the Colosseum out into the Roman forum where our guide tried to point out structures of interest. I think its safe to say you could spend an entire day just at this site. Buildings built on top of other buildings, or pieces taking from one to create another. Lots of interesting history behind it all.

The tour was finished so I went across the street for some lunch. I thought I would hop on the bus and stop at the Pantheon but with no streets listed on the tourist map they provided with stops I quickly got frustrated in the heat. I went back to the metro station thinking I’d get that back to the main station where I knew I’d find a bus. The entrance I found only had ticket machines that took cash, and it wouldn’t take anything over a 5 Euro denomination. WTF! I gave up and walked the rest of the way to the main station. By then I was tired, cranky, and over the heat.

I had been staying with a couchsurfing host who was starting to feel a bit needy, always wanting to know where I was, what I was doing, when I’d be back. Earlier in the day he had told me that cleaning his apartment was part of the hosting deal. This was the first he had mentioned it and I’d already taking him for an expensive dinner to repay his kindness. I was put off and the heat wasn’t helping. I made the impulse decision to leave Rome a day early, heading toward cooler temperatures.

I returned to my hosts apartment and cleaned as requested, packed my things, sent a message, and hit the train station. It was going to be a long journey to Switzerland and I thought Milan made sense as a stopping point for the night.

Some hours later but before the sun set I arrived in Milan. Again, I found myself in awe of the beauty of their Central Station. I took advantage of the free Wi-Fi and booked a hotel room online. After a short walk I arrived at the hotel. I walked in and informed the man at the front desk that I had a reservation. His reply “I’m sorry but that’s not possible, we have no rooms available tonight”. I was caught off guard and said “but I just paid for a nights stay, how do you not have any rooms?”. Apparently hotels.com should not have allowed the booking. He proceeded to offer to call some nearby hotels to see if they had availability. He invited me to have a free drink at the bar while he sorted it out.

Sun going down on a statue at the Milan Central Station.

Success! The hotel next door had space available. He asked me to kindly wait until his colleague returned so someone could accompany me to the hotel. I certainly appreciated the extra effort on his part. Definitely above and beyond.

Outlet at the hotel meant now adapter needed.

I got settled in and went right to sleep.

The wheels on the bus go round and round – July 2

I was sad to leave Monterosso but feeling pretty excited about heading south for a dive adventure. The dive shop I’d chosen to go out with was a bit off the beaten path so it was going to be another interesting day of travel.

Hopped the train around noon and headed to Grossoto without any issue. Had to change trains to go to Orbetello. The signs pointed me to a platform that didn’t seem to be in use. A friendly Italian woman who had gotten off another train on the platform beside mine let me know I was not in the right place. Skeptical I went ahead and followed her to another platform. A train arrived and most of the people got on. It was another one of those trains you have to assume is yours since there are not signs. I was unsure so I asked the only other person that hadn’t gotten on the train if it was going my way. She confirmed and I jumped on just in time for it to leave. Whew! Saved again by the kindness of strangers!

I exited the train at Orbetello and was sure I’d arrived in some level of hell the sun was so harsh. I left the station with the masses and took at look at the bus schedule. I couldn’t make much sense of it and again it was the kindness of strangers that saved me. The sign indicated 2 buses but there was only one, which would drop me off in the center of town where I would catch the 2nd bus into Porto Ercole. I hopped on the bus feeling pretty happy I hadn’t gotten lost yet. As we rolled into town I realized I had no idea where I needed to get off the bus to find the hotel. By the time I had figured it out we were already heading back to Orbetello. Hmmm. Guess I’ll just ride this back to the starting point and try again.

This particular bus wasn’t heading back to Porto Ercole so I had to get off and wait for the next bus. Another helpful Italian was heading the same way and would check each of the buses as they came to make sure we got on the right one. This time I was prepared and got off at the proper stop.

I walked the short distance to the hotel, dropped off my things, and headed to the dive shop to see about equipment. The people in this town looked at me like I was the spawn of Satan. I can only assume they do not get many non-Italian tourists here. Found the shop and got a less than enthusiastic greeting. I also discovered no one really spoke much English. Hmmmm. This may not be such a great idea.

We attempted to find equipment that would work for me. The biggest issue always seems to be the wetsuit, and with water temperatures being cool they were pretty insistent. After trying several to no avail I heard the woman rambling something about “impossible”. At that point I put my shoes on and started to walk out. She stopped me and told me she thought they had a suit that would work but they couldn’t find it. I told her I had a skin suit and would be willing to go out with them and see if that was enough to be comfortable. She agreed to continue to look for the suit and I agreed I join them in the morning. I wasn’t convinced I would.

I stopped off for dinner on the way back to the hotel. The Italian football team had a match and lots of people were gathered at beachside bars to watch it on television. I ate my pizza while people stared. The food and wine was excellent, even if the company wasn’t.

Treviso to Monterosso – June 30

My day started early as I had about 6 hours worth of train travel and a full work day ahead of me. My host had breakfast ready at 7:30am and was generous enough to offer me a ride to the train station.

I was unsure I was on the right train as the Italian regional trains don’t have any signage to tell you what train you’re boarding. I knew it was heading the right way, I was just anxious about getting to the next station to catch my connection to Milan.

It was the right train and I easily made my train change and was on my way to Milan. The train made its way through some beautiful countryside which I attempted to catch out the window.

The Milan central station is incredibly large and even more beautiful. I was told it was conveniently located that you could go out and see a little of the city between trains but I opted to find some lunch and the next train platform instead. No sense in tempting fate.

Milan Central Train Station

 

Every train seems to bring a different experience. The next regional train taking me to Monterosso had compartments of six seats, 3×3 facing each other. Its pretty uncomfortable. Especially when you get several tall people facing each other with legs intertwined. It was going to be a long 3 hours.

Midway through the journey I opted to stand up and stretch a bit. That helped. By the time I returned to the seat the man facing me was preparing to exit the train. That’s better.

We got little glimpses of the coast as the train wound around. A few views out the other window of some of the hillside towns. The surroundings are very dramatic and wonderful.

The train pulled into the Monterosso station. My airbnb host had provided me fantastic directions. You walk out of the station and there is the beach with an amazing view of the sea. Monterosso is a perfect and very walkable village in the Cinque Terre. I loved it so much I asked my host if she had any availability for the next night. All of her rooms were booked but she offered to call a friend with a hotel to see if she had availability. As luck would have it, she had a room with a sea view for just the night I needed.

Panorama of the beach in Monterosso

I unpacked a few things and went over to the hotel to check out the room. It was pretty small, especially the bathroom, but it did have an amazing view. I asked to reserve the room and headed back across town. I stopped along the wait for some dinner and to pick up a few things for lunch the next day.

It was time for me to get to work but sounded like others were out having a pretty good time. While I’m glad to have an income, its kind of a drag missing out on most of the night life. I know, cry me a river.

Granada to Seville – June 21

I had planned to move on to Madrid and spend a few days before heading to Barcelona but I returned to Seville instead. I headed out the door toward where I recalled seeing taxis. My host had suggested the bus but I was concerned I’d take the wrong one or miss my stop. I think the truth was I just wanted something simple even if it meant spending more money.

The taxi got me to the train station where we were loaded onto the bus (see yesterdays post if this doesn’t make sense). The bus got us to Antequerra where we loaded onto the train for Seville. No train changes were needed so I felt like I could relax a bit. I rolled my eyes a bit and the train passed through the Marchena station. Apparently I was still a little bitter from the ordeal Sunday.

Finally a smooth train trip in Spain! As I exited the train I thought I should take the opportunity to reserve my spot on the Seville to Barcelona train on Thursday. All the signs were in Spanish and of course I chose the wrong line. The guy directed me to take a number and get into a different line. I hit the button for a ticket and nothing. Pressed it a few more time for good measure, same result. I thought maybe I was doing it wrong until a Spanish woman had the same result. She promptly told the clerks the machine wasn’t working and we all formed an orderly line. More than an hour later it was my turn. Making the reservation was easy enough and I was glad I’d decided to take care of that now rather than later.

Took another taxi into the city center where I got some food and a mojito. Kevin got home from work and I got settled in and started my work day. Keeping my Seattle hours really puts a dent in the night life. Another thrilling day of transit, but I got a few pictures of the Spanish countryside that might be decent.

 

 

What fresh hell is this?! – June 19

Packed up my things and headed toward the Cadiz train station. Or at least that is where I thought I was. After a confusing attempt at conversing with the woman at the information counter I decided I should probably get some food and coffee. I knew a Burger King was close. I had promised myself I would make the best attempt at a local experience but I just needed some food.

With my blood sugar nearing normal levels I headed back to the station. As I approached I realized what I had earlier thought was the train station was actually the bus station. That explains a lot! Fortunately they are next door to each other. Made my way to the information counter and got my ticket for Granada. Success!

I boarded the train and watched carefully for the stop where I needed to change trains. I was feeling pretty good about my day as I boarded the 2nd train. As we headed toward Granada the ticket checker came around and was telling everyone something in Spanish. He was carrying a piece of paper with the English message and he showed it to me. There is work being done farther down the line and I would have to get off the train and take the bus to Granada. I swear the message said to exit the train at the next station so with a bit of anxiety I gathered my things and walked off the train and through the station expecting a bus on the other side. Nothing. Sigh!

I returned to the station looking and got the attention of the guy in the office. He spoke enough English I was able to tell him I was told to exit and this station and take the bus. He looked at my like I was an idiot and proceeded to tell me it was the wrong station. I should have exited the train with everyone else at Antequera. The next train to get me where I need to be wasn’t coming for 2 hours. I know, it could have been way worse, but that didn’t make me feel any better. I started thinking maybe I’d just return to Seville as my host there had offered a place to stay anytime I needed it. That was going to be 2 hours as well. The guy at the station offered to let me keep my things in his office. I thought it was a nice, but odd, gesture until he walked me out of the station. Guess hanging out there wasn’t an option. The town is so small the train station closes between trains.

As we walked out I asked if there was somewhere I could get some food or something to drink. I only had the sparsest amount of water left in my bottle. “Sorry, it is Sunday and this is a very small town. Everything is closed.” He pointed me toward the center of town and told me “go look around, it is a beautiful place.” Those of you that know me can imagine the look I had on my face. With a heavy sigh and a “fuck me!” I walked in the direction he pointed me.

It was 36 Celsius, which I think translates to about 95, and here I am stuck outside for a couple hours. My poor skin was already pretty angry from my misadventure on Friday. Even with the long sleeved, UV protectant shirt I was feeling the burn. I did my best to stay in the shade and not look too odd. I can’t imagine they get many redheads from the U.S. in Marchena.

I didn’t want to venture too far for fear of not finding my way back in time. That and the heat is just so exhausting. I did make my way to the town center and he was right, it was a cute little town. There was a little park that had some nice flowers, trees, and shade. I hid out there for awhile then eventually made my way back to the station.

As I collected my things the guy reminded me to get off the train with everyone else (not by myself). “Thanks” I say rolling my eyes. I hate when people make me feel stupid.

Off to Granada. The train then bus get me to the station and I’m happy to find a taxi waiting to take me to my host. I’ve been good about walking most places but I just didn’t have it in me.

I arrived at my host, Joan, flat to find he wasn’t home. There was a café there and I had hardly eaten anything all day so I grabbed some food and messaged him to find out what was going on. He had stepped out for an errand and was on his way back. Timing worked out well.

I spent a few hours visiting with Joan (from Barcelona), his flat-mate (Venezuela), and the flat-mates girlfriend (from the US). Its funny how much you miss talking when there aren’t many people that speak your language. I crawled off to bed knowing I needed to be up at a reasonable hour for my tour of the Alhambra.