Maybe because he repeated 'six' three times, maybe they actually got 18 croissants, or the girl couldn't count and left two of the 18 out?

Here is another one, the train stops in Milan to make a stop. I tell my wife I am going to get something from the stand on the platform so I jump off the train. She says do not go because the train might leave and she said take your passport because you are on your own. Well, I jump off go to the stand and as I am walking back I look up and the train is pulling away. I am freaking out and my wife has her head out the window screaming. I see the train move away and I am crazed until a conductor comes up and asks what is wrong. I tell them my wife just left on that train and he says that it is only changing tracks and to relax. My wife has never let me off any tranport from that time on. Still reminds me about it 23 years later.

Ok here's another one my wife to this day has never let me forget same trip 23 years later. We are on our honeymoon in Venice and we are taking the train to Geneva Switz and I am asking for the train to Genova. which is what Geneva sounds like in Italian. I am saying this mutliple times to the information booth and my wife keeps asking me "are you sure you are saying Geneva? I assure her that that's the way they say it in Italian. Well, needless to say, we were an inch from going to Genoa italy and missing the Geneva train. Sher asks all the questions on trains now.

margy:

Talk about embarrassing moments! My head cold must've clouded my brain last night!

Seize = 16
Soixante = 60
Six = 6

Apologies for the confusion!

This thread is even funnier in its second incarnation.

Patrick, love your stories!

nukesafe, as Betsy said of another post, "tears rolling down face!"

StCirq, I don't buy combination locks on luggage or bags anymore since I had a similar experience to yours. Mine was on my suitcase, which I needed to get into to change for a business dinner after a long flight to Hong Kong. I had checked the lock before I put it on my bag, but something in transit must have screwed up the setting. It took at least an hour to get someone up to my room with a pliers, while our business colleagues waited for me in the lobby. The worst part was that I know no one believed me. Everyone thought I had just forgotten the combination.

OK then, here goes. It was more years ago than I care to remember when me and my partner, being young and broke, decided to have a few days camping holiday in Scarborough. We had no cooking equipment and the tent was borrowed, so the first morning we headed into town to find somewhere for breakfast. We found a likely self-service cafe and my partner joined the queue for food, whilst I found a table. What I haven't told you is that I was 3 months pregnant and the early morning walk with no food, had made me feel a bit light headed. As my partner returned with the food, that was it. The smell of egg and bacon did the trick and I knew I was going to be sick. Im my hurry to find somewhere, I rushed out of the cafe door and got as far as the nearest grid in the road - it turned out to be right in front of the cafe window, where other diners were enjoying their breakfasts! After that, I felt much better and returned to tuck into a hearty breakfast, which is more than can be said for the other diners! Needless to say, we were too embarrased to return to that cafe again!

My first trip alone abroad.

I book the ticket online to San Jose, CR. Have to act really quickly; it’s a good price and only a few tickets left. Email confirmation comes, ticket to San Jose. Fax comes: ticket to San Jose.

Get on the plane in Canada, very excited about my trip in Costa Rica. Flight change in Dallas. I’m checking out my fellow travellers in the waiting area. Something doesn’t feel right.

I go and ask the ticket agent: is this flight to San Jose, I must be at the wrong gate! Yes, it goes to San Jose California. My heart stops for a few seconds, but I’m still convinced I just got the wrong gate.

Well it turns out that in my rush and excitement, I overlooked that the ticket was to San Jose CA and not CR. And this NEVER showed up ANYWHERE else on my confirmations.

I frantically called home: “MOM, I BOUGHT THE TICKET TO THE WRONG CITY AND WRONG COUNTRY!!!” It took me a looong session of negotiation on the phone with the airline to try and convince them that all this was not my fault (desperately trying to avoid paying another 800 dollars from my meagre budget). I ended up paying only 200 extra.

After that my flight from Miami was cancelled overnight, given to another airline, which boarded us after 2 hours (plane too hot), deplaned us (AC not working), boarded us, deplaned us (toilets not working), sent us on a 20 minute walk to another terminal, waiting for crew, crew boards, crew deplanes, waiting for pilot….small riot at the terminal with people screaming throwing tickets etc. We finally departed 7 hours later. Well that was something else.

Anyway what started out as a trip from hell, ended up being awesome. My poor friend however had to go to the airport 3 times in San Jose looking for me.

There was a story about a couple going to Sydney ending up in Sydney Nova Scotia. People were laughing about how stupid they were. I just tried to hide my red face.

Maria H, thanks for the morning laugh :D

Gee, I had almost forgotten about this..I was trying to think of something in Europe and then figured U.S. travel would appply also. It was not at all embarassing when I was walking along Fisherman's Wharf with my mom, I was I think 13 or 14 at the time, only to suddenly find that my underpants had somehow managed to get from my upper body to being around my ankles!!!! Now you all know that there NEVER are very many people around the Wharf area....I was starting to cry, my mom, god bless her soul was trying to help me get them back up and was almost exploding from trying to hold in the laughter..I have her same sense of humor so I guess it was payback time for me...anyway, I had put this experience into the deep recesses of my brain and only after reading the posts on this thread did it resurface..I'm going to bury this memory again. Now, of course, being older and wiser, should this even ever repeat itself, I would simply walk out of them and keep going.

lindi, what a great story! I can imagine you were extremely careful on future trips.

I went on a two-week trip to Spain with classmates when I was 16 years old. Unfortunately, I didn't realize that I was going to get my period during the trip, so I did not have any "supplies" with me.

Ok, no problem! Having never learned the word for tampon in Spanish class, I looked it up in my dictionary. I walk into a farmacia in Sevilla and find that all of the products are behind a counter. I ask the clerk for tapones (This isn't so hard," I think to myself). The clerk produces a very small box with a picture of an ear on it! I am thoroughly confused at this point and try to explain what I need to the clerk. A lightbulb appears above his head and he starts to laugh uproariously. "Oh, tampones!" he says and hands me a box which looks more like what I was expecting.

As it turns out, tapón is a perfectly acceptable word for tampon, but the first/most common meaning of the word is actually a plug (he tried to give me a box of ear plugs!).

Thanks guys (Faina!) for updating this thread - now I can't leave the office until I repair my eye makeup which has run down my face from my tears of laughter!

Last year in Vienna, the doorman at our hotel told my husband to use the underground garage - "Park anywhere," he said. It was very dimly lit but he finally found a place right near the elevator.

The next day when we went to get the car, we were confronted by a very angry, distinguished-looking African man who said: "Sir, you have parked in the space reserved for the people of Angola!" Sure enough, at the back of the space was a small plaque that said "Reserved for the Angolan ambassador." We were mortified and tried to explain that we didn't know. I think the guy bought it on the grounds that foreign tourists can be pretty clueless!

In Lisbon, we stopped for lunch at a funky little cafe near the waterfront. Like Nukesafe, we ordered the prawns (that was so funny!). The waiter then brought us "rolls" which he placed on our bread plates or so I thought. Hungry, I took a big bite of the "roll" and almost spit it out.

"What the hell is this?" I asked hubby with my mouth still full. It turned out to be a delicious Portugese cheese but my mouth just wasn't expecting it so I was surprised to say the least. All the patrons were looking at me at which point hubby says: "You know, I just can't take her anywhere!"

Keep 'em coming!

My 20-year-old daughter and I were staying in a B&B in Florence - and, of course, there were no screens on the windows. In the middle of the night, I was awakened by mosquitoes buzzing around my ears. I had vaguely remembered seeing a small package next to the bed labeled insecticide. It was rectangular and about the size of a very small bar of soap. I went into the bathroom and opened it, trying to figure out how to use it. It was hard and kind of rough. I couldn't read the instructions (in Italian) and finally concluded that maybe if I wet it, it would make a lather to rub on the skin. Well, that didn't work, but the only thing I could think of was to rub it on our arms and legs. I did so, and had my daughter (who was more asleep than awake) do the same. The next morning, my daughter happened to look over at my nightstand and in an accusatory voice demanded: "WHAT'S THIS?" Hm... well, it was a little electrical contraption of some sort, which, lo and behold, had a compartment EXACTLY THE SAME SIZE AND SHAPE as the insecticide tablet. I hadn't noticed it the night before... Um... turns out the insecticide should have gone in that compartment and then I should have plugged in the unit and the smell or whatever would have kept the mosquitoes away. I've NEVER lived that one down.

I'm sure this has happened to other people as well, but here goes...

I was 22 and had just landed in India with a great job after travelling for 6 months in Australia, (so had picked up a few slang terms while I was there...)so there I was in a bar talking to my new co-workers..when one of them asked me what was the worst thing about my new appartment- I was trying to come across as someone totally low maintainance and said"oh everything is great except the mozzies"..there was this stunned silence at the table..and I looked around wondering what happened, when one of my co-workers said, "whats wrong with mozzies??" I looked at her like she was insane.."they suck blood, thats whats wrong with them!" I said. Again...stunned silence...I thought I was now stuck working with crazy mozzie loving people...Then another guy at the table said in a very cold tone, "Well..I'm a mozzie..and trust me I dont suck blood" By this point, I was looking for ways out of this bar/job...Just as I was about to give up, another co-worker joined us who was briefed on what was going on at our table...he burst out laughing 2 minutes into this briefing and here's why...turns out, Mozzies was a slang for Muslims ( atleast at that time)while I was reffering to mosquitoes!! I havent used that word since!!

Hello, Lisa! Your mentioning of your husband reminded me...

Once on a bus tour we stopped to explore a historical building, and it was almost time to board the bus. Our group was standing by the bus watching my husband taking a picture of me with the building in the background. He looked through the camera's window and announced loudly: move to the side a little, you're blocking the view of the building!

Anybody surprised I travel alone now :)

Unfortunately, I wasn't a travel newbie and should've known better...I was at Burbank airport (in Los Angeles) and for those who've been there, it's a small airport which makes this even more embarassing. I was flying to San Jose and as I was heading towards my seat, I noticed a gentleman sitting in my seat. Confused, I told him he was sitting in my seat. We both looked at our ticket stub. We both had the same seat number. Turns out I boarded a flight heading to San Antonio, Texas! Needless to say, I was soooo embarassed as I made my way off the airplane. I don't know what I was thinking of during the boarding process!! and I like to place a little blame on the ticket agent who didn't pay attention to my boarding pass : )

Obsessed, your story reminded me of my story. Over ten years ago, I took the train by myself to Avignon, to stay in a village across the bridge but When I tried to return on the tgv and claim my seat, there was a French woman sitting there. and as I exchanged conversation with her as to who's seat it was, the ticket taker came along, took my ticket and said. This is for tomorrow. No!, can't be! I said. My plane leaves today.
He said, come with me, sit here , BUT, if anyone comes with ticket, you must give it up and if we are full, you may have to leave. Later, he came by to take me to another seat(He was Gorgeous!!11)beside a French woman with a beautiful baby, and we had a nice chat and I held the baby for an hour so she could nap.

cigalchanta, thanks for your story! I'll be taking the TGV from CDG to Avignon this May and will be sure to get the right ticket for the right date when returning to Paris!

Frankly, I've had more than one.
-There was the time I broke the toilet in a restaurant in Freiburg.
-There was the time I used my somewhat limited knowledge of German to make a reservation for a tennis court at a sport hotel. Unfortunately, I asked for the court "yesterday." Since I always learn a language by pairs or groups, I had a mental slip and used yesterday rather than tomorrow.
-There was the time I was bathing in a B&B in the "bath down the hall" and forgot to lock the door. A lovely young lady barged in and I gave her the shock of her life.
-There was the time at a concert in Lucerne, where one of the pieces was Dvorak's "New World" symphony. Not being an expert in classical music, I commented to one of the Swiss nearby that apparently the tune of an old southern black song must have come from this symphony. I was quite embarrassed when the Swiss gentleman said, "No, it is the other way around. Dvorak took the tune from the old black folk song."
-There was the time I ordered "petite frites" from the menu at a restaurant in Annecy. I expected French fries, but instead they brought me a plate piled high with tiny whole fried fish, about minnow size.
-Finally, there was the time I drove my rental car into a pedestrian area in St. Moritz and was berated by a very old French gentleman in a very loud voice. I proceeded to leave the pedestrian area, and as I departed I noticed another old gentleman screaming at me. I was going the wrong way on a one-way road!!

Have a wonderful time, obsessed, the lunch counter is expensive and not very good, in case you may want to pack your own lunch. I tried the croque monseiur, not bad, but the next time on the tgv, I packed my own snack. Also on the regular train, I hopped on one to Orange thinking, I could buy my ticket on board. A NO-No you can be charged a hefty fee for that boo-boo. Luckily, my seat mate was a child who noted my lack of ticket and told me to hide in the toilet and knocked after the ticket taker left.

These really are fantastic stories! And hopefully the next time each of us makes a blunder we will remember we are in good company!

Ugh, all this train talk is making me nervous. I leave tomorrow for France and will be taking the train, my first time on a train in France, first time alone in France.

It does remind me of one ear-crisping moment on a train in Italy. I oh-so-proudly validated my ticket and those of my friends. I oh-so-proudly handed them to the ticket taker when he came by. Yes indeed, after a loong confusing conversation featuring my impeccable spangliano it all came out: I had validated all our return tickets. But we were just starting our journey.

How cool this original thread started almost 2 years ago!
Everyone's stories have been so much fun to read...keep 'em coming!

Leely, bon voyage, I think you'll love the French trains.

A week before we left for our first trip to Europe we found out I was pregnant. We were a little disappointed because my diet would be restricted but didn't think it would impact our trip too much. Needless to say, our trip was definitely "impacted" once I started throwing up everywhere! My husband likes to tease me that I left my "mark" all over Europe . . . at the base of the Eiffel Tower, Montemarte, outside the Colliseum, outside the Vatican, on the runway in Palermo . . . you get the picture!

BKP, your child will feel at home when there, like a dog marking his territory...LOL

Topping this thread in hopes that more Fodorites will write some of their funny stories...

On my first trip to Europe in 1992 I packed 3 suitcases: a traditional big rectangular one, a long hang-up bag, and a medium size shoulder bag. And it was just me for 3 weeks. Holy crap, did I learn my lesson! Now I am gravely concerned if my one backpack is over 15 pounds.

What else? I wore jeans one August day in Rome. By 3 pm I went into a store, bought some shorts, and left my jeans in the dressing room.

Packed my return plane ticket and checked my luggage before I could extract it. Cha-ching!

Took the wrong train in Germany and accidentally ended up at Rothenberg but stayed on the train thinking, "Bah, probably nothing to see here...move along."

Here is something one would not expect while visiting Dublin. Five years ago we were in Dublin for the first time. It was a sunny August afternoon and we were returning to our hotel walking along Stephen's Green On the side walk are two older women with their dogs on leashes. Now I always knew not to make eye contact with a dog that gives a mean look--and i had on sunglasses anyway. Plus the dog was held on leash that had no more than a foot of slack. As we walked by the woman let the leash out to the max, and yes, her dog bit me at the knee! Fortunately I wore a lon jumper which kept the dogs teeth from breaking deep into my knee, but my jumper was ripped into what i can only describe as a 20" right angle! I was furious and said she should pay for the damage--she said "I am just a poor woman!" My husband threatened to throw both dogs against the brick wall of Stephen's Green. Both womaen pleaded for mercy but I don't think they were sorry. In the end I, being anxious to return to our hotel, walked along carrying to the front of me, the torn right angle section of my clothing. Later on I wondered about rabies control in Ireland--luckily the denim of my jumper saved me from a nasty bite. To this day I never make eye contact with strange dogs sunglasses or not and I never rely on a leash being fully controlled.

Last year returning from Ft. Lauderdale, my son leaned over and got sick right after we returned our rental car. He said he felt better, so we continued on to the airport for our flight home.

He did have to get sick again. This time he leaned over and threw up - right in front of the metal dectector at security! Talk about creating a diversion!

When we were in Brugges, my husband wanted aspirin, and I had only packed Advil. We went into a newstand/small grocery store, and looked around for a minute. The clerk asked what we were looking for, and DH asked what type of store sold aspirin. The clerk said in a really saracastic tone, "We call that a pharm-a-cy. PHARM-A-CY."

Many Years ago, one year out of college, I got off the train from Tokyo to Kyoto, after many sake's in the train bar.

I approached a taxi and said "Kyoto Tower Hotel". The cab driver didn't seem to understand, and so I said it louder in that sort of "movie" Japanese. He finally let me in the cab, drove out of the train station parking lot, and across the street, stopped at the curb, opened my door, motioned me out, and pointed up at the huge sign that read in English Kyoto Tower Hotel. After all of my rude insistance, he had provided me with a 150 foot taxi ride. It has been almost forty years,and I'm still embarrased.

I was in Northern Germany trying to order a glass of milk. I didn’t speak German and no one there spoke English. Really wanting a glass of milk I try sign language, holding a pretend glass and moooooed at the same time. I didn’t get my milk, only a confused look. I finally saw the word milkshake. I covered up shake and pointed. That did it, not only did I get my glass of milk but a large smile from the waitress.

Another time when I was in London I was curling my bangs with my curling iron. We were getting ready to meet friends from Wales in the lobby. I must have done something wrong with the adapter because immediately when I curled the iron around my bands I smelt burning hair. My entire bangs that were once on my head were now on the iron. What could I do? I brushed back the remainder of my hair (now only ½ inch long) and laughed.

Deciding not to take the tram with my family (I’m scared of heights) and too afraid to ride the donkeys as I was sure they would slip and fall going down the path along the cliffs in Santorini, I thought I would just walk. Big mistake the donkeys run down the path and don’t care if anybody or anything was in their way. Every time I heard the jingling bells that were hung around the animal’s neck, I would quickly take refuge behind one of the light posts that were evenly distributed along the path. I felt like pacman on a computer game.

We’re going to Ireland in May so I’m sure I will have more to embarrassing moments to add when we get home.

Okay - I don't know how anyone can be more of a "stupid American" than this...

I had to go to Paris for a week for work and my boyfriend (now husband) and my parents came over to hang out while I was there. Luckily, I ended up with several days off to go sightseeing with them...somehow I should have known that I'd be better off at work...

We were on the subway and had somehow missed our stop (probably talking instead of paying attention) and decided we would get off at the next station and then just backtrack. Well, the doors opened on both sides of the train and we got off on the "wrong" side. We had gotten off on the "exit" side instead of the "transfer" side.

Now, my mother doesn't do a lot of stairs very well and trying to come up with a solution that would keep her from walking from here to kingdom come just to catch a train heading in the other direction, I came up with the BRILLIANT idea to just wait for the next train and when the doors open, we would rush through the train to the "transfer" side of the platform. Smart idea, huh? In THEORY, it was a GREAT idea!

So, the next train rolls in and pulls to a stop. My mom and I are standing at one set of doors, anxiously waiting for the doors to open, while my father and husband are waiting at the next set of doors. Okay, we're waiting....and waiting...the train is stopped...people inside are waiting to get out...and we're waiting....FINALLY, the doors open and we BOLT for the opposite side.

Mom and I make it out - whew! Wasn't that fun? Then I hear it...my father...calling to my husband, "Pat! Over here, Pat!" My father is standing in the doorway of the train, holding the doors open, yelling for my husband to come use that door to exit the train. Okay, not ENTIRELY embarrassing (at least not for ME!), but then the conductor (?) starts setting off the alarm that says, I need to get these doors closed so I can get this train out of this station! And my father is still standing there holding the doors open yelling at my husband!!!

FINALLY, after my anxious encouragement for my father to get off the train and leave my husband, my father gets off the train and it leaves the station. My husband, in the meantime, had sat down and acted like he didn't know the crazy man holding the doors open!

He ended up going to the next station and then backtracking to us, while we waiting at that station.

I'm sure we made QUITE the impression!

Honeymoon in Barbados. Arrive at the airport. Bride & another couple in the back seat, I go around to the right side of the car, open the door, hop in, then notice a strange round steering wheel like object sitting in front of me. Casually get out of the car, walk around to the PASSENGER side and acted like I meant to do that.

Hmmm. Reread the thread and found I was missing 1 key element from the last post. ""Felt so foolish sitting in the drivers seat of a TAXI!! ""

Sorry for the mispost.

Honeymoon in Barbados. Arrive at the airport. Step outside & grab a TAXI. Bride & another couple in the back seat, I go around to the right side of the car, open the door, hop in, then notice a strange round steering wheel like object sitting in front of me. Casually get out of the car, walk around to the PASSENGER side and acted like I meant to do that.

Fancy little square in Luzern, Switzerland, fancy sidewalk cafe full of fancy people sitting at fancy little tables. I come trekking along, nose up, lot of packages in my hands, trying to look like I own the world as well. Except, I don't and miss a little step on the square and fall flat on my fanny right in front of the cafe for all the fancy people to see, my packages flying all over the place... See what you get for putting on airs??

cecisard, LOL. Not that it is funny and I truly hope you were not hurt but I did more or less the same thing in Milan one time. Very high heel shoes (before they were called stilletos), shopping bags in hand, walking from the piazza into the Galleria and "flop" down I went in front of all those elegant people sitting in front of the elegant cafes. I must say that three charming young and handsome (be still my beating heart) immediately jumped up from their table and assisted me so I guess it was worth it? But oh the humilition!

And J62, In Barbardos they obviously drive English style, right? Oh well, you could have just pretended you were checking out the car, you know, the controls etc.

As long as we stay cool, calm and collected all is well, do you think?

At a Japanese restaurant in Tokyo, my hubby asked what type of sashimi was served. It was giant squid tentacles. But I didn’t know why and how I said ‘test-i-cles’.

In 1983 my college roomate and I got jobs in Southhampton, England one summer. Trying to make the most of the summer, we sometimes would take the train into London in the evening to catch the theatre and then hoof it back to southhampton around midnight to be back in time for work in the morning. Well my 18 yr. old sister was visting so we went to London. Unfortunately the return train was delayed and we headed back about 2 a.m. As we approached the Southhampton train station (where our car was parked)the train did not appear to slow down and stop so in our panic we decided to jump off the moving train. I went first, opened the train door and jumped onto the platform, the force of the moving train flattened me to the ground and the fact that I was wearing a skirt made an even prettier picture as I laid there spread eagle. Seconds after I jumped, the train came to a stop and my sister and roomate simply stepped off the train and over me laughing hysterically. Moral of the story is to let another person jump off the train first.

Although this next story might be considered "potty humour", this past summer my family visited the U.N. and while there we told our 13 yr. old son to send a postcard to his grandmother. Our son put a stamp on the postcard, addressed it and then proceeded to begin writing. His pen ran out of ink in the middle of his writing, but he still mailed the postcard. Well grandma had a few things to say when she got the post card because he only had enough ink to write " Dear Grandma, I am at the U.N. My pen is..Love, [son's name]" My son's penmanship is pretty sloppy so the word "pen" and "is" looked like one word. No more postcards will be sent to grandmother in the future without us checking.

My wife and I took a train to Sorrento then boarded a bus to await departure for Positano. We weren't quite sure how to buy tickets. After some time someone pointed out we needed to buy tickets at the coffee shop 300 metres down the road. Not knowing when the bus would leave I dashed to the shop and bought the tickets. On my return I gave my wife the tickets. Later someone pointed out I had to validate the tickets. My wife handed me the tickets and I slipped them into the machine. "They didn't work" I said to my wife handing her back the tickets. "The silly shop assistant has sold me the wrong tickets." In a mad panic I dashed back to the shop but without the tickets. The shop assistant insisted she had sold me the correct tickets. I ran back to the bus and took my seat. "Try them again" my wife suggested. I did and this time much to my relief they worked. Later when we were relaxing in our Positano hotel room my wife said "Honey I've got a confession to make". "What's that" I asked. She replied "You know those bus tickets.. well for some reason I actually gave you our used train tickets to validate and that's why they didn't work". I think the whole of Positano must have heard me shriek!