Last morning on board ship, and a farewell to Simon, who is heading back home to real life while I spend another ten days here conferencing.
I’ve given my excess baggage to Simon: clothes for hot weather, souvenirs, gifts for family. Hence I was able to squash all my remaining gear into one suitcase, to make train travel easier.
Thus I was able to walk to the local train station in Vilshofen, and catch the 10:41 to München, and then onto the 13:34 train to Bologna. All up there was nine hours of train travel, not great when you consider that sitting is the new smoking. On the other hand, way easier than flying, plus the scenery was amazing.
The first train was excellent, but the second was a little rundown. I’d paid extra for an assigned seat, which had five of us squashed into a tiny compartment with no room for luggage. We gradually shed customers as the day progressed, and I quickly moved into another compartment with just one other person, and when she left at the half way mark, I had it all to myself. Perfect.
I was having a social chit chat with one of the lecturers on the boat a couple of days ago, and she asked me what book I was reading. I said I was between books at the moment, which sounds lame but I didn’t want to say all my free time was spent writing a blog. Writing a blog is only marginally above picking your nose as a socially acceptable hobby. Then she asked, what was the last book I’d read, and even this had me stumped. She looked mildly disturbed by then, and moved on to find someone else more interesting to talk to. It was “When it’s a jar” by Tom Holt, which I read a few weeks ago, but I had to look it up on my kindle to remind me. Anyway, this episode shamed me so much I decided I must give up trawling through US election news and read a book again. So, that’s what I’ve done today. I’m now half way through a detective fiction novel, but that’s also why it’s after 11pm and I’m only just writing this now.
As I mentioned, today’s scenery was amazing. Quaint German towns with churches in green countryside, to mountains like we saw in Cortina a few weeks ago, then picturesque Italian towns and castles. The train actually went through Trento and Verona.
I got a message from my Bologna accommodation last night saying that there was terrible rain and flooding, and was I still coming? It was the first I’d heard of it, but some quick googling showed some very impressive scenes, streets looking like rivers and lives lost. I wasn’t sure what to do, but in the end decided to travel as planned, since the rain had stopped, the trains still seemed to be running, and everything was non refundable.
In the end, there was no trouble at all. The train got in 45 minutes late, but no one seemed surprised or concerned by that. I didn’t see any evidence of flood damage walking the few hundred metres to my accommodation, but it is dark.
All my conversations with my host here, in writing and verbally, have been in Italian. Unfortunately I have no recourse to google translate when speaking, so I hope I haven’t missed any vital bits of information whilst smiling and nodding.
I managed to get myself some dinner at the local trattoria, with what I realise in retrospect was a mix of Italian and Spanish, but no one seemed too bothered and the food was good and cheap.