I spent the end of (and actually all of) my night on Sunday in the ship’s lounge - very casino-like and decorated to the point that you couldn’t actually tell you were out at sea. When I first arrived down there, the plush, couch-like seating was absolutely packed. I found an empty space to nestle into though, next to a middle aged, long-haired blond man drinking a beer.
We struck up a conversation about disrupted travel plans and I learned that while Dutch, he’s been living on the Greek island of Corfu for 25 years and runs a construction company there. He was headed back up to Holland to work on a building project he has underway there. I told him about cob and the work I’d been doing and we had a lot in common. While he’s pretty conventional - he was sharing his ‘natural building’ experiences as having been building kit log cabins made from old Siberian timber - he seemed to have very similar politics and perspective as to the state of affairs on a global level.
We had a couple of beers and he went off to retire to the cabin he’d rented for the night. I continue to kick myself for not having asked him if I could share a ride up to Holland (he’d rented a car). I’d find out later that it would’ve made a huge difference in my travel experience.
As it grew later, the lounge began to thin a bit but it was probably the most ‘comfortable’ sleeping space on the ship for many of the travelers with deck seating. It took a while but I was able to find a relatively comfortable way to sprawl out on the couch, with my head resting on a nearby chair. I managed to get some uncomfortable sleep and woke up with several body parts feeling a bit sore and numb.
The cabin started bustling fairly early and we still had another 3-4 hours until we reached port (we ended up being over an hour late). I spent some time lodged in front of a television set, blaring English-language news that repeatedly alternated between the same two primary stories - the volcano and Goldman Sachs. Both ironically tales of incredible amounts of hot air release into our environment. When I’d had my fill of the addictive nonsense, I headed up to the deck to check out the surroundings.
It was a beautiful sunny day but it was pretty gusty up top which made it hard to enjoy it. I ate some of the bread and feta-like cheese I’d bought in the Skopje supermarket a day or two before and then retired to a more sheltered location. I eventually ended up in what had become the smoker’s lounge, despite the fact that it was littered with no smoking signs. It was something of a ballroom, with a bar in the center and the remainder of the space full of overstuffed easy chairs surrounding small tables. I joined a group of three British businessmen and enjoyed a nice view out the large hind window of the ship.
After a bit we struck up a conversation and shared our travel intentions. They were on their way to London too and had been stuck since the whole travel debacle began. They had tried to rent a car but apparently the Italian car rental agencies weren’t allowing any of their vehicles to be taken outside the country. We had similar iteniraries though they were going to head for Milano and then Paris while I had intended to go there via Bologna based on the travel site recommendations I’d encountered.
We arrived at the port in Ancona - quite a beautiful, sweeping view of the old city - and headed off to the train station to the west. It was probably four times as long as the 500 meters that my British friend had estimated based on the internet map he’d studied but it wasn’t all that bad. As I’d imagined, the station was overrun with travelers and I opted to buy a ticked for Bologna via the self serve machine rather than wait in the immense line to try to get some advice from an overwhelmed agent.
I purchased my ticket and had about 20 minutes to spare before my train. I hopped across the street and got a slice of some horrible pizza (not to worry, I’ve now had more than my share of quality stuff at this point). I waited by the train platform and was headed off to the north in no time. It was a beautiful day for travel and we hugged the coast line for much of our trip with the sea to the east and the gently sloping Italian countryside to the west.
The landscape was very subtle with a long, even grade from the horizon - perhaps a kilometer or two to the west down to the coast. For the most part, it consisted of arable crop land, bordered by sparse hedgerows. We frequently passed through small cities - most of the small cities here would probably dwarf Burlington (VT). After a couple of hours, we arrived in Bologna.
The train station was again about as chaotic as I would’ve anticipated. I rushed to get in line and only then did I notice the sign that said ‘All trains to northern Europe full’. As I reached the ticket booths, they’d actually attached a date to this - April 23 - Friday. It was Monday. This was not good. When it was my turn, they more or less confirmed it. I might be able to travel to Milano then to Geneva and then onto Paris but it would like mean that I’d end up stuck in Switzerland for a few days instead of Bologna or Milan. I decided to check to see what the buses were like.
I walked across town and found the small bus terminal and there was only a single agent serving the line of 15 people. After a solid 20-30 minute wait, he informed me that all buses to Paris were booked through the 28th! Ok, well that decision was an easy one.
Feeling a bit overwhelmed, disappointed, confused and dejected, I returned to the train station after trying to kick start the rehydration process, and waited once again in the extensive line. I spoke with the man in front of me who I’d heard speaking on the phone in English. He was headed back to NYC where he lives and said that flights out of Milan had just resumed. This at least seemed somewhat promising. I was thinking that perhaps that might be a good back if necessary.
When I finally reached the front, the new agent told me that not only are the trains full, but the Paris rail company has actually started to strike so there is no travel at all at this point. I had a hard time believing him as only an hour ago, I’d heard of nothing of the sort. Could things really keep going from bad to worse like this? I was well aware of the fact that with so many people out of luck and in need, the agents wield incredible power in their ability to connect people with a functional route. I was not feeling much love from this man and realized that I probably needed to give up on my intention to make it to the UK anytime soon. It was a feeling I’ve not experienced much in my life - the realization of the fact that I had absolutely no control and no ability to modify my situation towards the goal I had originally set. It’s probably a good thing to have experienced.
I figured I’d give it one last try though being the stubborn person I am and bought a ticket for Milan, another two or three hours north by train. I was feeling pretty worn at this point and did a lot of sleeping on the way. I found it difficult to control my racing mind while I was awake which was quite frustrating and kept trying to run through different travel options, without ever reaching a real conclusion. I felt trapped and wasn’t willing to accept the reality of the situation.
Well after dark, we arrived in the city and it was far larger than I’d anticipated. I got off at the 3rd train station in the city - Milano Centrale - and began to navigate the immense ranks of the impressive structure. It is a true marvel of engineering - massive arches of both steel and stone and incredible craftsmanship. They sure do know how to make an architectural statement here in Europe!
I headed for the ticket counter, foolishly hoping to find a different scenario here, but once I arrived there and saw the size of the line, I realized it was really really time to give up and stay put. I left the station and headed towards the first hotel I could find. I knew there was no chance I’d want to afford it but figured they could help answer some questions for me. 140 Euros a night. He did point me in the direction of other more affordable hotels.
Well, to make a long story short, I ended up walking the city streets for over two hours, covering close to 8 miles, searching for a hotel and there was virtually nothing. Everything was booked! Not a single room to be found. I bet I visited well over 30 hotels. Things seemed like they kept going from bad to worse. The only places I did find with vacancies were either far too expensive or only had doubles or triples (or they were pretty dingy looking). I finally settled on a place that had an open triple and paid 70 Euros (ouch!) for the less than stellar space. At that point, I was just happy to have a place to put down my bag and lay for the night. I went out to find some food, had my first true Milan pizza and beer experience and was off to sleep.
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