Yesterday was great, ending with a bit of a hiccup. That might be an undestatement.
I woke up at five AM to get the metro to the train station, and started my long train journey to Genoa, Italy. The rail planner stopped in a lot of places I wanted to see so I went for it. This is what the schedule was.
Barcelona- Montpellier- Marseille- Nice- Ventimiglia- Genova.
Montpellier was very pretty and was a nice walk around with the hour I had before the next train. Lots of flower stands and cafes. The high street looked packed but I didn’t go too far just in case.
The train stopped at Mimes for a moment, and I didn’t see my favorite french police man. Sad times. Marseille was the same, and I didn’t bother walking around. The train to nice was about three hours but was proably the best view. The line pretty much went along the coast and you could see the mountains and all the amazing houses and boats that some people are lucky enough to have. Just beautiful.
Nice rail station was in a busy area so I didn’t get any pictures. And my battery had ten prcrnt left so I turned it off.
This is where it all took a bit of a turn.
The train to Ventimiglia was delayed ten fifteen min. Fine, then I have ten min to catch the next one. Now its delayed fifteen. Ok I have five minutes… The train set off and when it was about a mile from the station it came to a complete stop. The train ahead had broken down. We were stopped for about an hour. Luckily, we were right on the coast and I watched the sunset while knowing that my other train was long gone. The doors wouldn’t open and all the angry Italians started smoking and the cabin became really hard to breathe. I had someone translate the announcements for me
It sounded like we would have to go back to the last station, but then we were able to move forward. At Ventimiglia, I asked a man where I would find a train to genoa. He pointed and said run! Run! Because the train was due to leave. I bolted up the stairs and onto the train. I turned my phone on and looked at the lit be details. It’s the last train to genoa and it’s he slow train that stops everywhere. Three hours.
And there were homeless people trying to get free rides and they smelled worse than dead horse bowel.
There was a girl from new Zealand that was able to call her boyfriend to pick her up at another station. Lucky. She works on the big yachts and makes tins of money. It’s like being a host but on a boat. And she does deckhand work.
So the last hour spent talking to this Italian woman who had also been traveling and needed to get to milan but had to stay in genoa and leave early in the morning…We both got off at the wrong station, and she was able to get these people to give us a lift to the station…They got lost but we drove past a taxi and we swapped to his car. She told me that she can get the driver to get me close to my hostel and her company pays for the taxi so I shouldn’t worry. We drove through these narrow streets full of prostitutes and drug dealers and he pointed at this tiny street. She asked the driver to wait at this spot, and she walked with me to the hostel where we said our goodbyes. The hostel is fairly new and he shower was amazing. I showered and went straight to bed. Now I am sitting here his morning enjoying gresh ciabatta bread and cereal and juice and jam and coffee, making plans for my next move of course ☺