I was so exhilarated about getting out of the rain, my heart thumping happily with the the sprint, that I paid little attention to any of my surroundings. To get to Venice, I had to first catch a train to another station on the other side of Florence, and then go onward from there. That train ride was easy enough; within 10 minutes, I was waiting at the right station, thinking that I had about a 15 minute wait until my train was scheduled to arrive. It was supposed to take 2.5 hrs, landing me in Venice at about 12:30pm, where hopefully the weather would be a little better. The rain had slowed down to just a light sprinkle again but the clouds were still heavily overcast, making the day feel like it had started too early.
That was when I realized that I was the only one waiting on the platform. Normally there are at least another half dozen people for even the very remote trains; on a train to a city as popular as Venice, I would have expected at least that. Figuring it was because it was a Sunday in a highly religious country, I settled down to dry out and wait.
My explanation came a few minutes later, right about the time when I was expecting my train to roll up to the station. Over the loud speakers, an Italian voice made some announcement involving my train number; an English voice translated immediately after, informing me that my train had been delayed. By 90 minutes.
Whhhaaa????
I got off the platform and headed inside to the designated waiting area where I found the crowd of people I'd initially expected, all crammed inside to get out of the rain, Ann irritated and bustling into each other, an horrendously long line forming in front of the ticket counter. I grabbed a seat and pulled out my phone, meaning to pass the time until my train showed up as there was nothing else I could do. There was a board displaying all the different trains scheduled to arrive along with any delays and I realized that something was a little funny when a train that was supposed to have arrived earlier was still delayed by 105 minutes.
As I sat there, the time delay for my train only increased in ever-bitter increments: 95 minutes, 105, 120, 150, finally topping off at 195. I'd been in the station for over two hours and it looked like I had yet another 90 minutes to wait. Many other long-distance trains were experiencing the same phenomenon, with all the short regional trains coming and going almost cheekily. I wasn't the only one waiting, and I was no where near the most irritated one: as I sat there, I got to watch authentic Italian drama first hand when two older ladies came in screaming at the top of their voices, gesturing wildly, marching up to the front of the ticket counter and angrily pounding against the plastic barrier between them and the ticket woman. I have no idea what they were saying, but they left and came back and left and came back, each time screaming what I can only imagine were obscenities as loud as they could.
When my train delay hit 195 minutes, my stomach started growling angrily and I decided to catch a ride back into the central train station where there were ample food stops. I took my time getting a sandwich, noting that even at this central train station all the times were off by about two hours. I ate, figured I had yet another 30 minutes of waiting at the second train station, and then decided to just wait on the platform instead of the waiting room still stuffed full of angry people.
I got to my platform again and had waited there for about 15 minutes before a lady in uniform came up, asked me where I was headed, and then bluntly informed me that my train had been cancelled and I would have to go back to the central train station and try to find another way from there. It was 3pm by that time.
I hadn't really gotten worried or worked up until that point, because there was nothing I could do but wait for the train and also because the train was still on it's way and would eventually get there. Now, though, I had a flash moment of "oh-man-oh-man what am I going to do???" I booked it back to the central train station and with a sigh of relief/exasperation, I saw a train headed for Venice that wasn't supposed to leave for another hour, having been already delayed by 3 hours. Then I noticed another train, scheduled to leave in about 5 minutes, headed to Milan but stopping at one of the same intermediate stations. Better yet, the train was physically in the station and filling up quick. I went for it, jumping in and cramping myself up anchovie-style along with as many other people as could physically fit into the cars.
It was a long, long 75 minute ride to the intermediate stop and I had to stand the entire time, getting jostled back and forth into strangers who were getting jostled into me. When I got to my stop, it was like playing shuffle trying to move past everyone to get out. The next scheduled train heading towards Venice wasn't supposed to arrive for yet another 90 minutes and so I waited dejectedly, extremely bored with the train station and the train ride and the delays.
This was when I finally got a hint of what had happened: an announcement came over that translated into "Rome is going through a fire brigade practice exercise today," though why that would make all the trains north of Rome (and Florence is about 3 hours north) so terribly delayed is still beyond me.
Surprisingly, a regional train pulled up not too much later, heading to Venice and taking a little over two hours to get there. I hopped on it, took a nap on board, and cruised along, finally getting into Venice at 7pm, about 9 hours after I'd initially gotten to the train station that morning and taking 7 hours longer than I'd imagined it would.
The weather hadn't improved at all. Venice was depressingly overcast. As I walked off the train, finally, I was sure that I'd be in a grumpy mood and I'd hate the city and that I should just go to my hostel until the morning. I even started heading that way...and made it about 15 steps before I realized I was in Venice! And it was beautiful!
There are more tourists in Venice than there are actual Venetians. And they crowd about, taking pictures of everything. So I followed suit.
The streets smelled like you would imagine Italy to smell like: pizza, garlic bread, prego sauce, fresh rolls -- walking around was like eating a meal. There are a million Venetian mask shops and Venetian glass shops and Venetian souvenirs. The canals are toured by water buses, water taxis, and gondolas; the canals are everywhere!!
I made it to my hostel, dropped off my bag, and then spent two hours getting lost in the maze-like street pattern that they have, where the roads narrow until you almost have to go sideways to get through, and where corners suddenly turn into dead ends. I really felt like a mouse going through a maze and it was with an extreme feeling of relief that I made it back to my hostel.
It's not exactly a hostel I'm staying at. I still sleep in a dorm with three other people; but they close the reception area at 1am and expect people to be in their beds, sleeping quietly. That's why I got asked to keep it down and I was almost whispering when I called home last night. I didn't understand it either, but that's what it is.
Spent today walking around Venice, but I'll write about those thoughts later.
Location:Salizada San Geremia,Venice,Italy
I just realized that my comment never posted!!!! I don't even remember what I wrote anymore. Dang.
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