The Train Trip

It's been a year, but the memory is still as fresh as the day it happened.

Here's what I wrote in my journal as I reflected on our journey from Rome to Cortona.

Tuesday, June 12....
Early rising at 7:00 in order to m ake the 9:14 train to Cortona. We pack our luggage, eat breakfast - don't forget the wonderful cappuccino - and pay our bill. We are cutting it close. With our cumbersome - no other word can describe them - luggage we hustle down to the groundfloor using the elevator and emerge onto the street. (So much for the "fairy tale" the clerk gave me when I purchased my luggage - or is it that the luggage has too much in it?!)

Walking briskly - or as brislky as one can on uneven brick-paved sidewalks and streets, we dash toward the termini (that's train station to you non-Italian speakers :-) At one point I'm walking along and 2 young Italian men - talking and smoking in the middle of the sidewalk - refuse to acknowledge that a sweating, out-of-breath, testy, older American women needs to get by them. My luggage wheels graze the foot of one of them and I turn and snarl in my best ugly American voice, "If you'd moved aside it wouldn't have happened!" They're probably still telling the story of that woman - and her crazy American ways.

Onward toward the termini.

Dripping - red-faced, struggling with luggage we arrived at the station. Ok - now what do we do? Did we think to ask all our "world traveler" family / friends how to manage? Of course not! So Sheryl waits in one line while I investigate the self-service ticketing. Shoot... this is easy. Press "English" and follow the directions: locate our stop (Camuci-Cortona) - insert credit card - 2 adult tickets - prints receipt. Grab paper, hustle over to Sheryl and off we struggle toward the train bays. Looking at receipt - looking for train number. Finally really look at the piece of paper and notice that it says... ""This is not a ticket" ***!!### Rush back to machine and, you guessed it, no ticket. Did it print a ticket or is someone now enjoying a trip to Cortona courtesy of one dumb American.

We get in a ticket line and tell our sad story to the clerk. She prints out a statement... yes it printed the tickets. Any recourse? No.

We've now missed the 9:14 train and next one is at 11:14. No way to let Barb and John know; hope they guess we'll be on next one. Since we now have the time, we head downstairs - yes, still lugging those bags. We find the toilette and then begin a search for a camera for Sheryl. We luck out. Next stop - McDonald's - yes, we caved to American culture and sought out an iced cold coke!

Upstairs we find our train, board, find seats, and prepare to enjoy the 2 hour trip through the Italian countryside. Little did we know our troubles were only going to get more interesting.

Nearing Camucia we prepare ourselves for depature by gathering luggage and stand by the door. The train stops. We're ready. Door opens? No.. As we stand there in utter perplexity the train begins to move!! Wait.. we want off!! Sheryl reaches up toward a red button mounted near the door and before she can pull it, a collective NO-O-O-O! rises from the other inhabitants of our car. Apparently if one pushes that red button a hefty fine and possibly jail can result.

Why didn't we get off? Well... our well-traveled friends / family inform us much later as did a lovely young man and his father who were traveling in our car that day - YOU OPEN THE DOOR FOR YOURSELF! Of course, why didn't we think of that? Hmph!

The young man (who spoke English) and his papa (who didn't) helped us. We could get off at the next station and buy a ticket back to our station. No problem... we know what to do now - open that door as soon as the train stops at the station!

So we disembark at Castiglion Fiorent to return to Camucia. And the beginning of a long and undesired acquaintance with the passaggio (a passage way that takes you underground the train tracks to other side of the tracks - meaning hoisting / lugging those bags down and then up a flight of stairs). A lone male passenger (no English) is standing on the platform and we're trying to get inside the station to purchase a ticket. Finally I search my memory banks for the Italian for ticket and he takes us around the building to the back door. Inside a self-service ticket machine awaits. Despite our minimal Italian (lessons for sure before I travel here again!) we get our tickets. Train arrives about 20 minutes later. (Remember? Barb and John are supposed to meet our train and take us to our apartment? They have no idea where we are by now!)

Luggage on, we're on - we stand by the door. We won't be fooled twice! Fortunately, other people are getting off so our stumbling off the train doesn't have to occur at light speed.

OK - now what? There is a square in front of the train station with a taxi stand (no taxi available), a bus stop, and several cars coming and going. Barb and John? No hope there. So we wait for a bus. One arrives. Does it go to Cortona - Via Guelfa? Si. Do we have a ticket? Non But the driver must have sensed the desperation in our voices and in our looks because he invited us onboard. Air conditioning and a beautiful drive up a winding road to the town of Cortona. The driver stops at the Piazza della Republicca and points in the direction of Via Guelfa. We proceed to Via Guelfa, but I can tell Sheryl is a bit unconvinced that I know where I am going. (Can you blame her?) The Via Guelfa sign assures her and we begin our descent toward #70, our apartment for our stay. As we continue to descend, Sheryl's skepticism returns, but just before we reach the bottom and as I am getting ready to ask someone, we see Barb and John. What a welcome sight they are!! Just a few more steps to our place - John departs to find Fulvio Billi our host to sign us in.

I haven't mentioned the luggage recently... well, our apartment is up 2 flights of stairs. Yes, we have one final leg of our day's journey to drag - and I mean dr-aaa-g those bags up the stairs. But we made it!

The rooms are bene. A small kitchen (with clothes washer) overlooking the street below, a bathroom and bedroom. The mattress turns out to be molto comfortable -- praise the Lord! Barb & John surprised us with a welcome basket of coffee, cantucci, and a lovely card. Sheryl and I toast each other with wine from B & J and munch on aperitivo they brought us. Thunder and lightening and birds chirping. Across from our window an older woman hangs laundry outside her window. Rain is falling and it's 5:20. Dinner is at 6:00.


While we relaxewd, showered, and got ourselves checked in with Sr Billi, Barb is preparing a lovely dinner upstairs in their apt. Pasta (fresh ravioli w/ pesto and futtucini w/ ragu), salad, wine and pane. The food was so delicious and the best we've had - authentic too! We sit and enjoy our dinner and share our stories. Like two medieval troubadors entertaining the diners.

After dinnner we returned to our room. Walking the town and gelato on the agenda later.

Our first night in Cortona!

We toast