No, I don't mean the mob -- I didn't venture that far south.
Years ago, my mother was traveling somewhere in Europe -- I want so say Italy or Germany (well, I don't want to, but facts is facts) and she had to get out of the country early (and quickly) because of some looming strike.
This morning I get to Piazzale di Roma (bus station) by 9:30. Bus takes 20 min to airport, flight isn't until 12:45. Plenty of time.
Expect that all the busses are on strike. From 9 to 12. Had I not wandered through the Jewish Ghetto in the morning ... Well, I would have slept more, actually, and still gotten to bus at same time.
(Incidentally, Jewish Ghetto has interesting history ... including origin of the word "ghetto." Look it up.)
Nobody at ticket counter or bus company seems to want to offer up any alternative. Finally I ask, "taxi?" Bus agent begrudgingly agrees that yes, a taxi is capable of transporting me to the airport.
So we (me and this French couple in same predicament, but with slightly earlier flight) run around looking for taxis. We see a taxi sign pointing down an alley. We follow it. It leads to water.
Wrong kind of taxi.
Eventually we find the correct line, but taxis are few and far between (they probably are busy not striking).
After about 20 min we finally get a taxi. And it took about five minutes for fare to reach €15-20. After the hotel credit card machine crapped out, I don't have a ton of cash left. And at this rate, this will be the most expensive 20-minute taxi ride since the Scranton incident of '89.
Fortunately, the fare was weighted early and its meteoric rise slowed dramatically as we went. So after splitting it with the French folk, wasn't so bad.
And my plane is an hour late. So I had plenty of time. Probably could have taken the bus at noon.
--
A few more thoughts on Italy ...
• If you as someone to take your pic, don't ask them to retake it six times because it's no lined up exactly perfect with the previous picture of whatever we were in front of (a picture that was better for not having you in it). And don't ask, "you need help?" unless you want me to reply, "how sturdy is your camera in relation to your skull?" Then don't ask where I'm staying. Far away from you, psycho...
• Hey post office lady, I'm sorry I apparently ruined your day by not having exact change for stamps this morning. What? You need to give me change? The horror ...
• Hey Venice ... You rock.
• This morning I saw a guy wheeling a lawnmower down some steps over a canal. Odd in and of itself, but even more so considering I saw all of maybe three lawns in Venice.
Maybe it was his day to have the mower.
Might go get an espresso now. Just to say I had one in Italy. Or I could lie about it and grab one at Tully's. Either way ...
3 comments:
When we were in Venice, it was the end of the honeymoon, and it rained. Naturally, drainage wasn't very good, so the whole city was flooded and they set up platforms to walk on.
We were also lugging around a life size replica crossbow, and was actually tired of eating great food that we had Burger King.
I'm glad you had a more interesting experience in Venice.
i love the blog. sorry i haven't commented. so here it is:
there once was a guy named J
in italy he first did stay
in lines he did wait
gelato he ate
and he'd see fifty sights in a day.
He ran into people from Storrs
Toured castles with staircases and doors
From rome to venice
blog entries he'd send us
and poop on the street he abhors
*The rain in Spain falls mainly in Venice, do to an odd, NAFTA-like trade agreement predating the EU.
*Ha! That's a good one. Gelato and poop -- that's pretty much the theme here.
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