indytravel

Cigale, that is so blase!

PLMN I liked my TV "Twilight Zone" explanation much better. It is a fun, weird, wacky co-incidence how you and your parents met with the old Jewish guide.

Anyway, don't mind us. We're in the Zone ourselves.

Still lovin' your report. Please keep posting!

PLMN

Glad to know that there are still interested readers out there.

Cigale, I know you didn't mean anything neggie about the report, I just wasn't sure about the reference. I do remember the Twilight Zone show and see what indy means. Wait til you hear about the Lubavitch abduction in Venice.

Ira, that would be quite a way out of the way for gelatto, is it really that good?

As for the wine being any good...it was better than any I have had here in the US but not as yummy as some other wines I had in Italy.

Too tired to write an installment tonight, perhaps sometime tomorrow though.

Have a great night everyone.

LoveItaly

PLMN, dear one, your report takes a lot of effort and time. But I hope you know how many enjoy your story. You are a talented writer. Obviously I love Italy too!! Didn't get to Italy this year but your report makes me feel like I did.

And your "walking away" when you could not handle the stress of family. Oh sigh, wish I had a dollar for everytime I have done that with certain family members. Yes, just walk away. Batting them over the head wine a bottle of wine is really not a good idea, is it?
:-s

Beatchick

Yes, indytravel, it's like serendipity! One of my favorite words and concepts.

PLMN, please take your time with the report; I'd hate for you to rush thru the rest of it.

ira

>Ira, that would be quite a way out of the way for gelatto, is it really that good?<

It is real gelato. Would I recommend driving an additional 3 hrs to get some?

Depends on how long you have been without it.

PLMN

Your sweet ira.

I appreciate the info.

Since the probability of my making that long a drive even for gelato is remote I finally had a chance to do an internet search for something closer to my home and found this link:

www.stefanosgourmetdesserts.com/locations.asp

Mischka

Still loving your report PLMN. Your family sounds so much like mine, makes me feel almost normal!

I love the way you enjoy your couple of glasses of nice wine, would love to take you wine tasting in my home town

ellenem

PLMN,

Just back from Rome yesterday myself. In my first look at Fodor's I went straight for your report--I'd followed your epic preparations and needed to hear the outcome. Very enjoyable report--looking forward to more.

I'll have to get to work on my own report of Roma, Firenze, Cesena, and Molfetta.

Keep it coming!

PLMN

Remainder of last day in Rome:

While my parents rested in the hotel, I ventured out to reserve train tickets to Venice. I stopped at the front desk and asked the gentleman on duty about obtaining his help to make the reservations. It seems this is not a service of the Albergo Cesari which was fine. I was directed to a travel agency just up the street.

NOTE: Not all travel agencies issue train tickets.

I found this out upon arrival at the suggested agency. They were kind enough to direct me to the location of an agency that would be able to issue the tickets. It was up this way and then over that way, turn at such and such...an adventure it would be.

With the required stopping every few feet for directions, (NOTE: Have I mentioned that just because you ask a POLICE OFFICER for directions, this does not mean you will get proper directions?) I happened upon the agency. At least it was an agency that would issue tickets, still unsure if it was the agency to which I was directed I had to transverse an extremely busy commercial area. Down one street I passed a sign on a building pointing to a mall area within. I walked down the hallway, saw a sign on a door for a travel agency, and popped right in.

The man and woman on duty didn't exactly greet me with open arms and I waited patiently until I was asked by the sour puss gentleman what it was I wanted. I told him I wanted to purchase three tickets, in 1st class on the train from Rome to Venice for the next day. The man spoke and understood just enough English to verify that he could provide me with the tickets.

However, as usual I had to throw a monkey wrench into the mix. I tried to find out what my recourse was if I purchased the tickets and for some reason had to change them due to...oh, let me see...my mother changing her mind about some detail or another. The agent just wasn't getting it. Just in the nick of time a very erudite, nice looking Italian man chimed in. Speaking to the agent in Italian, he explained what it was I was trying to ask. This man saved me quite a bit of time and I thanked him for his help. He had a very nice smile

The price I was quoted was about what I had expected to pay, 201 EUROS, and I handed over my charge card. When the ticket was prepared and presented to me I reviewed the details of the ticket with the agent. I had him show me where on the ticket the seat numbers and train numbers were listed. And that was that. It didn't take long at all. I am SOOO glad I bought the tickets this way rather than at the station!!

I returned to the hotel and reviewed the tickets with my folks. Thankfully the time fine. (Remember how I so badly wanted to reserve the tickets BEFORE going to Italy? I was THIS close to doing it, but I chickened out for some reason. I suppose my intuition regarding my mother had kicked in. I had mentioned numerous times during the planning of this trip that the 8:30 AM or the 8:55 AM, whatever the earlier train was, would be a good train to take and she never once said "no." WEEELL, when I told her which train I was going to reserve she said, "oh, that's too early, let's take the next one." Of course.

That chore was done and out of the way. Next came the task of locating a place for dinner. We really didn't want a big meal and wanted to stay close to the hotel. We assigned dad and his "nose" to the task of picking out a restaurant. In the history of my family my father has the reputation of the "nose", the master restaurant finder. I think those days are numbered. Daddy is getting up there and it is a fact that in most cases as one matures, certain senses go down hill. One is the sense of smell. (I know ya'll get what I mean )

AND, it is time to throw out the notion that if a place is crowded that means it must be good. Maybe it used to be that way in the US, I don't know if that ever held true in Italy. All I know is that the attractive restaurant my father insisted looked like a good place was oh so pedestrian. I'm sorry I don't remember the name so that I can warn others. It was maybe 1 - 2 minutes from the Albergo Cesari. NOT one of the ones just in the little square. It had a pinkish decor. The wait staff was very rude and that was if you could get them to pay attention to you. This was the place we almost had a fight with the staff regarding the bread. Ah, well..live and learn. (I put this place as a first in the loss column, mom and dad listed as a second. The first for them was the place in the ghetto that I liked.)

We left and I think mom and dad went for a gelato.

I tried to start packing and it drove my dad insane. He could not comprehend how I had managed to bring so much stuff. (Oh, Mom had brought one sm-med rolling bag and a pocketbook and dad a sm-med rolling bag and a briefcase. But they don't mind wearing practically the same thing every day.)

It took me until the next morning to figure out how to get my bags closed and that required my mom sitting on my main suitcase. Soft sided no less. Isn't that the way it goes, once you have to unpack it doesn't go back quite the same way.

Then, bed time.

Next chapter: The fateful train station wallet caper

LoveItaly

Oh PLMN, you just really know how to keep us hanging. This is like a weekly series on TV but so much better!!!

I am going to be sad when your trip report is finished. It will be like finishing a book one has loved.

anotherjudy

The solution to the sadness caused by the conclusion to this report: we all chip in to fund another trip in order to get another report.
PLMN, let us know where you want to go, your budget, etc. The we will begin "chipping in" so that we get another good read.
This is great! Love your "cliff hangers". Just like the serials at the Saturday movies when I was a kid (OK, I am old!).

cigalechanta

please continue before I get to old to read it. Seriously, PLMN, LOVING IT!!!

LoveItaly

anotherjudy - hey that is a great idea!

I will pitch in some money. We get to enjoy the trip thanks to PLMN's great descriptions, we know our family members are normal and we are not the only ones that need an extra glass of wine and a cigaret to put up with them an also to occassionaly "just walk away".

All this and we don't have to worry about airline fares, which hotels to stay in, what to pack, which restaurant to go to, which arguments to avoid.

Oh boy, that works for me!!!!!

And Mimi, you better be alive for a long long time!!! You are to full of life for anything else dear one.

P.S. I am LOL because if you read PLMN very first sentance of her thread she states "I'm sorry if the first part is boring but I'm just laying the ground work. I promise, it gets going once I land in Italy.

Well, think we all agree from the first sentance, boring NOT!

And getting better once she lands in Italy? The understatement of the year.

Dear PLMN, when you are up to it and have the time - continue, per favore!

PLMN

Thank you for the continued support.

On to Venice:

The front desk team at the Albergo Cesari had previously suggested what time we should have a taxi pick us up for our trip to the station. I waited outside for its arrival while my parents settled the hotel bill. I had reserved the room with my charge card and dad put the actual hotel charges on his card.

(Sometime the day before I helped dad take some Euro cash out of an ATM, around 200 Euro. So his wallet was pretty fully loaded. The family had had discussions prior to the trip and during the trip about security. Before the trip mom told me that she and dad had purchased "lovely" money belts..."silk would feel nice against the skin.&quot

Anywho...the cab arrived and we settled in. Termini Stazione we directed. It wasn't a long ride, certainly much shorter than the ride from the airport had been.

As we were pulling up to the station my father removed his wallet from one of his pockets. About a second after we stopped, a gypsy woman appeared at my father's window. (Which was up all the way, nice and secure.) She was selling flowers or some other trinkets. Dad, already clutching his open wallet in his right hand, wildly motioned her to get away from the cab while we yelled, "no, go away!"

Off she went, no big deal, we had handled that annoyance. Cab driver was paid, not without a discussion about how much to tip of course, and we made our way into the train station. Once inside we huddled together to get our bearings.

+++oops, have to take a quick break for a few minutes..be back soon.+++

PLMN

CONTINUED:


We stood in the main area of the station getting our bearings, hands on our bags lest hordes of thieves descend on us. My mother and I asked my father to put his wallet in a secure location on his body. "No, it will be just fine in my front pant pocket" he insisted. We prevailed upon him again to choose a more theif resistant spot. "I will keep it right here" he said shoving the wallet even deeper into the recesses of his corduroy pant front pocket. Once again mother and I BEGGED my dad to at least put the wallet in his front shirt pocket which had a button closure. "No, it is fine here, I'll just keep my hand in my pocket." No amount of pleading would get him to change his mind. We must have stood there a good 5 minutes arguing with him, but he was adamant and getting somewhat peeved at us so we let him be.

What a beehive of activity! There were people hurrying all about, and there was a level, and type of noise...like a muted humming roar all around us. Not knowing where to go next, I requested that my folks to stay put and I would check with the information booth. I showed the info lady my ticket and was given directions to the track area as well as information on what track our train would leave from.

We easily found the track area, which is just beyond the interior of the main station area. In front of the middle tracks there is a large electronic board that lists all the trains, times, arrival and destination information, and track numbers. The area by this sign was crowded with people standing there staring intently at the board.

I picked out our train info and relayed the data to my folks. My mother, as usual, questioned my information. (This was getting to be very tiresome and it wouldn't be the last time let me assure you.) While we were waiting, an American couple gripping a luggage cart with an assortment of luggage in varying sizes chatted me up. They were very nice and tried to be informative. (Some of their info was just slightly off as you will see later on.) They explained how the first class and second class train cars are marked and how they are lined up on the track. They pointed out additional signs beside the tracks that show car locations for the trains as they pull in. (I think that was what the signs showed anyway.)

NOTE: JUST BECAUSE YOUR TRAIN IS LISTED AT A PARTICULAR TRACK ONE MOMENT, DOES NOT MEAN THAT WILL BE THE FINAL TRACK BY THE TIME THE TRAIN DEPARTS.

If the nice couple had not told me this I would have been somewhat concerned about finding the correct track. I warned my mom and dad of the possibility of a track change so that THEY would not get worried and freak out. I tried to explain to her that it had to do with if the arriving trains were on time or not. Sort of like at airports, just more frequent.

I wanted to double check the track number with a real person so I had my parents stand there with the luggage while I located a different info both. I stood on line for a short time, received confirmation on the track number we had been told earlier, and I made my way back to my folks. I was gone maybe 10 minutes.

We had timed our arrival at the station to allow us about an hour to catch our train. By the time we had paid our taxi driver, argued about the wallet, found the track area, and double checked the track info, we still had about a 1/2 hour to 45 minutes until our train was scheduled to depart. This was too long for my dad to stand on his feet so I peered around for something for him to sit on.

+++break time, sorry...+++

ira

Hey Phoebe,

It's been over 20 min. Where are you?

PLMN

In the shower

Kristinelaine

Love your stuff, but you take very long showers! Just kidding! Waiting with baited breath!

PLMN

CONTINUED:

I spied a spot on a low bench or wall near the front of the tracks and directed my parents to it. There were other people sitting there and they made room for my parents. I remained planted in front of the board and chatted now and then with the helpful couple.

The minutes ticked by and the information on the sign was continuously changing. The loudspeaker blared often with the train information, in Italian of course. Our train showed a few minute delay for departure and eventually there it was...a track change! Oh, my, g-d. We had already scoped out the location of the track that we had been told, not the location of the new track. And since nothing is simple in our family this new information was almost simultaneous to the departure of our train. We weren't the only ones scrambling. People were running everywhere it seemed. I grabbed my luggage and shouted for my parents to follow me. Not sure why I was running, it just seemed like the right thing to do. Good thing I was because those trains don't wait for anyone! NOTE: DON'T BOTHER TO ASK THE MEN AND WOMEN IN TRAIN UNIFORMS QUESTIONS ABOUT WHAT, WHERE, HOW, ETC. EVEN IF YOU WERE TO ASK THEM IN ITALIAN. THEY DON'T WANT TO DEAL WITH YOU.

I was RUNNING full speed, pulling my luggage, clenching our train ticket in my hand, (wrinkling it all to heck) constantly sneaking glances behind me to see if my parents were following. I did slow down at one point and they caught up to me. The information about which car was which is painted on the outside of the cars. There is some lettering in Italian and 2 different numbers. I was able to discern that the lettering was identifying what the car number was and the other number indicated 1st or 2nd class. (Hmm, as I recall anyway.)

The MISINFORMATION from the helpful couple was which end of the train would have the first class cars and which end would have the second class cars. (I guess I didn't study and absorb the information from the little signs beside the tracks real well.) My mother insisted that the car we were looking for was HERE. I wanted to continue forward, but gave in and lugged that luggage up into to the car she was insisting was ours. Then they started to try to board. It got all jammed up. As I looked around something just didn't seem right and sure enough we were NOT in a first class car. Somehow this little detail was confirmed and we got off the train in a not very civilized manner. You know, casting blame on each other while still trying to find the right car before the train leaves the station. I ran up ahead, now I didn't have to dodge anyone because everyone else was ALREADY ABOARD. I'm telling you, they don't give you much time to get on these trains.

Then, there it was. I heaved my stuff into the train, helped my parents get on the train, only trampling a few other passengers, and then it hit me...THE SMELL...

PLMN

Being a smoker one would think I wouldn't notice ciggy smells. NOT.

And you are not allowed to smoke on the train. How long does the smell stick around? Was the car only recently made into a no a smoking car? My only hope was that I would get used to it at some point. I guess I did get used to it...or was it the excitement about the missing wallet that distracted me?

I need to go to work now. More when I get home.