(100) is Friday, 16 April 2010
After an omitted week of scrambling on two papers (including Hitchcock), we finally arrive at spring break. 17 days. Travel plans that had been in the works for a month. Italy! Venice, Florence, and Rome! Greece! Mykonos, Santorini, Ios (all islands in the Cyclades), and Athens!
Iceland. A volcano.
Hard to know what to say to that, right? I was at rather a loss for words myself (that takes a lot, a fact this blog often proves conclusively). I have to say, though, I had a hard time being too upset about this because, as travel screw-ups go, a volcano is a pretty epic reason.
Dan and I lugged our bags to the airport for our 6 PM flight; even if it was cancelled, we figured that was our best shot at seeing what the story was. Long story short, there was no flight that would give us any appreciable amount of time in Venice before our scheduled train would take us to Florence.
"Trains! Wait a second..."
In one of the most bizarre spots of luck, there is a train station at Charles de Gaulle. I say bizarre because-- think about it-- when would that ever matter? When would you get off the metro at the airport with your bags and your e-ticket and your passport and say "You know what, Dan? I think I'd rather have train lag tomorrow morning." Probably not that often, considering I don't think I know anyone else who's traveled recently with a Dan. But this was great; we saved time not going back to a station in Paris proper, and. If we had done that, we might have missed out on the patchwork of trains a very nice woman helped us book:
6:10 PM the next evening to Geneva (getting in around 10 PM)
5:45 AM train to Milan (Sunday, getting in around 10 AM)
Flexible time train Florence: skipping Venice, but getting us to Florence a day sooner
So, I went home to pick up the pieces from these changes and fill in the gaps. A few new reservations later, I decided we were in good shape. And since I had the evening and most of the next day free, I headed over to Kirill's most recent apartment (he's gone through about 10 different Parisian residences by this point in the semester) to join our other pals and watch Woody Allen's Sleeper for the first delightful time in years.
So, we re-booked our vacation to get us to Florence a day sooner. Your move, Volcano.
(101) is Saturday, 17 April 2010
Dan and I took the TGV to Geneva, which was very nice. Got us there in short order, and we learned en route that our VWPP pal Victoria would be in Geneva that night as well! Wonderful! She was waiting for us when we got off the train.
The plan, at this point, was to give Geneva what Dan and I call the Madrid Treatment. Fondly named after our last night in Madrid back in March, we would leave our bags someplace safe (a train station locker) and just explore the city. We wouldn't have the chance otherwise, and it didn't make much sense to us to book a pricey hotel for just a few hours.
Geneva is an expensive city. Switzerland's economy is good enough to justify staying on the Swiss Franc (better US exchange rate than the Euro, but not by much). I had to take out a minimum of 50 swiss francs from the ATM. A bag of malted milk balls (required to break that 50) cost me 6 swiss Francs. The train station locker cost us 8. And answering two guys who asked for the time cost me my wallet containing 44 Swiss Francs, about 180 Euros, 4 credit cards, and two or three pieces of ID.
You do get a rebate, actually, on everything but the cash (and your never-useful Reid Hall ID card) if you chase the guys and shout "Voleur! Voleur! Rendez-moi ma portefeuille!"**
Dropping the wry bit for a second, I do want to assure you that these guys only got the cash (and not even all of it: those under-the-shirt tourist wallets are a good investment). My IDs, credit cards-- even the wallet itself-- made it back to me and I was completely physically unharmed. Shaken for a while, but unharmed.
Well played, Volcano. Well played.
After taking a breather over dinner, we decided to seek a hotel after all. We found one near Cornavin (Geneva's big train station) called the Hotel des Alpes-- which you can book here. If you are EVER in Geneva, stay at this hotel for my sake and that of David, the very generous soul working the desk that night. The place was full, but when we explained what happened, David let us use the hotel's Wi-Fi so I could Skype-call my folks. That didn't work, so he let me call them on the hotel's phone. He then called several local hotels for us (all full). Finally, he offered us the lobby couches, water, and something to eat if we wanted (we didn't, but thanked him anyway) until we had to leave to catch our train.
All at no charge.
David also explained that the way I was pick-pocketed was rather common in those parts. I'm sorry to dwell on this subject, but this is good knowledge to have. After asking for the time, the pickpocket made some jovial comment about us being American and "football!" And then he starts in on what David called the jeu de jambes ("leg game"... my translation is less catchy and more suggestive... it figures). This is where the pickpocket starts stepping on my feet and getting up in my personal space. Naturally, I try to jump out of the way, but he keeps on me. My jumping around makes my wallet easier to spot and grab because, one, I'm distracted, and two, rather than keeping hands on my money, I'm using my arms to move away and maintain balance. Once they've got the wallet, they run.
Notes I took from this:
1.) Maybe this is cold, but when you're tired and in transit, let them ask somebody else for the time.***
2.) When someone goes for your feet, go for your pockets.
3.) When arriving at night, always have somewhere safe to go (hostel, hotel, whatever) as soon as you get off the train.
3b.) Giving a city the Madrid Treatment works better when you've already gotten to know it and you aren't tired/disoriented.
At 5:45, after leaving the hotel with gratuitous thanks to David, we found the train station. Victoria continued her journey elsewhere in Europe, and Dan and I boarded (and slept on) our train to Milan.
(102) starts when Dan and I arrive in Milan on Sunday, 18 April 2010
I like Milan. But I think the three hours we spent there was enough. The only thing that might have justified more time would have been seeing 'The Last Supper', but we didn't have the necessary advance reservation to the museum. Instead, we dropped our bags just long enough to wander, see the Duomo, and get lunch and the first of very much gelato. The Duomo is the highlight there-- easily the most ornate (and therefore impressive) Gothic building I have ever seen (and my exposure has skyrocketed since January). My camera died for this part, which was really, really sad.
After walking around a bit, we hopped the train to Florence, where we found pitch-perfect clear weather in the 70s (Fahrenheit). Dan and I took an inexplicably long time finding the hostel I'd finagled for the night, but we then relaxed for a while in the room, relieved that our 24 hours in transit were over. I got a call from Kirill, who reported that his and Liz's volcano troubles were only just beginning (I'd tell you that story, but I could never do it the justice that she or Kirill do). The next few days would feature many such calls and many more hours wondering when the next one would sound. Dan and I then went over to Gusto Leo, a very affordable place near our hostel. Decent food, a friendly atmosphere, and a 20% discount to anyone with a student ID card.
Tomorrow's entry: Vacation, Take 2.
-Andy
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Footnotes
* Gare de Lyon, Gare du Nord (North), Gare de l'Est (East), Gare Montparnasse, Gare Bercy, Gare d'Austerlitz, and Gare St-Lazare. Any guesses on what the word gare means in English?
** "Thief! Thief! Give me back my wallet!" And, in case you ever need a such a rebate in a French-speaking country, here's the French version spelled phonetically: "vo-LUR! vo-LUR! RON-day moi mah POR-tuh-foy!"
*** You know, maybe that should have been my first clue... These two are in Switzerland-- the land of Swiss watches-- and they don't know what time it is?
