When I woke up I had an email advisory saying there were problems with the trains, and there could be delays, so I left for the Campo di Marti station early. I got on an earlier train to Firenze Centrale station and saw that the board was showing 70-90 minute delays on a number of trains, with hundreds of people milling about. I went to the ticket office to learn what I could, and my number to be called was 217 and they were up to 160. I kept my eye on the board, and saw that my train was arriving on time and it was showing an on-time departure for my 1½ hour trip. It also showed the track and that it was boarding, so I hustled over and got to my seat. If you recall the fun of my flights to Firenze, this will add to my travel stories.
Along the way there were announcements, but the screen still showed arriving that the central Rome station on time – oh, was that not at all true. There are two stations in Rome, like in Firenze. The first one that you hit coming from Firenze is Roma Tiburtina, the second, and what my ticket was for, is Roma Termini – the central station. We pulled into Tiburtina and people got off and on, and many people were getting their luggage together to get off at Termini which was a short ride away. Time went by and there was only countryside outside the windows, no city. People were getting concerned and then it all went to hell in a hand-basket.
The announcement had been that the train was not stopping at Termini and the stop after Tiburtina would be Napoli, and on a good day the fast train from Rome to Naples is about an hour. Many Americans in my coach, and Italians also, were completely crazy – an Italian guy was screaming at the conductor. There were people going to Rome to get their flights home which would now be missed. I can appreciate the difficulty in understanding an announcement in Italian, but it was also in English that no one could hear or understand. The reason for the missed station was that on Friday the last car of a train derailed while approaching Roma Termini, the city's main railway station, and for that reason they rerouted our train around Termini. I did not get overly upset, I sat in my seat and read my book, my new attitude.
We had a group of around 16 people that were in the same situation, so a guy I had briefly met on the train, Charles, took it upon himself to organize us as a group at the Napoli station. We first went to one ticketing area, then the customer care desk, both of which were packed with people. We tried another ticketing office and by that time another of our group came running in to say that there was now no line at customer service. We all hustled over, and someone at the front of our group explained the situation to the woman at the desk. She closed her desk (bummer for anyone else needing assistance), told us to follow her, and we were all put on one business class car without dealing with any tickets.
So, let’s say that it would take an hour to Napoli and back to Roma, and with logistics say 2-3 hours. But no….the train was running slow and it took forever. I was originally supposed to arrive in Rome at 11:22am and eventually got there at 5:30pm – 6 hours instead of 2. I was going to lunch with Rebecca and family at a Michelin star restaurant, but instead met them at the Trevi fountain a bit after 6pm. Normally I would have been as crazy as everyone else, but I remain committed to my new way of thinking and realizing that there are some things that I have no control over, and cannot affect the outcome. So why bother getting upset about it – it’s the “whatever” comment – in Italian “comunque.”
A positive that came about was sitting on the train going to Napoli and back to Rome with Charles and his girlfriend – two nice young people living in Washington, DC where she helps run social media for the State Department. And here’s the kicker, his family, the Slutskys, owned the Nevele hotel in the Catskills, where I stayed with my parents as a kid. The Nevele Grande Hotel was a high-rise resort hotel located in Wawarsing, New York, just outside Ellenville; it closed in 2009. The Nevele dated back to the days of the Borscht Belt, opening in 1901. “Nevele” is “Eleven” spelled backwards and according to Charles it was named after the eleven nineteenth-century schoolteachers who discovered a waterfall within the present-day property. Charles and girlfriend were spending one night in Rome before flying home on Sunday.
I got to the Trevi fountain before the fam, saw them before they saw me, and it was a wonderful reunion. Much hugging and kissing and then wedging ourselves down to the very cooling water through the millions of tourists. It was as hot in Rome as in Firenze, in the 90s. After throwing coins in the water, I flagged down a taxi (unusual) and he first said he could not take 5 people, but relented owing to the kids. Got back to their Airbnb in the Trastavere neighborhood which was totally active and cooking. We hung out for a bit, then took a walk around the neighborhood before dinner. Dinner was at a trattoria looking onto a piazza where they were doing an outdoor movie, ET, a bit later. After dinner it was gelateria and then back to the apartment, where I decided to stay with the boys while Bec and Bill had an unexpected date night. This dinner was the least good of any in Italy - the pasta was severely undercooked for all of our dishes - very unusual.
Along the way there were announcements, but the screen still showed arriving that the central Rome station on time – oh, was that not at all true. There are two stations in Rome, like in Firenze. The first one that you hit coming from Firenze is Roma Tiburtina, the second, and what my ticket was for, is Roma Termini – the central station. We pulled into Tiburtina and people got off and on, and many people were getting their luggage together to get off at Termini which was a short ride away. Time went by and there was only countryside outside the windows, no city. People were getting concerned and then it all went to hell in a hand-basket.
The announcement had been that the train was not stopping at Termini and the stop after Tiburtina would be Napoli, and on a good day the fast train from Rome to Naples is about an hour. Many Americans in my coach, and Italians also, were completely crazy – an Italian guy was screaming at the conductor. There were people going to Rome to get their flights home which would now be missed. I can appreciate the difficulty in understanding an announcement in Italian, but it was also in English that no one could hear or understand. The reason for the missed station was that on Friday the last car of a train derailed while approaching Roma Termini, the city's main railway station, and for that reason they rerouted our train around Termini. I did not get overly upset, I sat in my seat and read my book, my new attitude.
We had a group of around 16 people that were in the same situation, so a guy I had briefly met on the train, Charles, took it upon himself to organize us as a group at the Napoli station. We first went to one ticketing area, then the customer care desk, both of which were packed with people. We tried another ticketing office and by that time another of our group came running in to say that there was now no line at customer service. We all hustled over, and someone at the front of our group explained the situation to the woman at the desk. She closed her desk (bummer for anyone else needing assistance), told us to follow her, and we were all put on one business class car without dealing with any tickets.
So, let’s say that it would take an hour to Napoli and back to Roma, and with logistics say 2-3 hours. But no….the train was running slow and it took forever. I was originally supposed to arrive in Rome at 11:22am and eventually got there at 5:30pm – 6 hours instead of 2. I was going to lunch with Rebecca and family at a Michelin star restaurant, but instead met them at the Trevi fountain a bit after 6pm. Normally I would have been as crazy as everyone else, but I remain committed to my new way of thinking and realizing that there are some things that I have no control over, and cannot affect the outcome. So why bother getting upset about it – it’s the “whatever” comment – in Italian “comunque.”
A positive that came about was sitting on the train going to Napoli and back to Rome with Charles and his girlfriend – two nice young people living in Washington, DC where she helps run social media for the State Department. And here’s the kicker, his family, the Slutskys, owned the Nevele hotel in the Catskills, where I stayed with my parents as a kid. The Nevele Grande Hotel was a high-rise resort hotel located in Wawarsing, New York, just outside Ellenville; it closed in 2009. The Nevele dated back to the days of the Borscht Belt, opening in 1901. “Nevele” is “Eleven” spelled backwards and according to Charles it was named after the eleven nineteenth-century schoolteachers who discovered a waterfall within the present-day property. Charles and girlfriend were spending one night in Rome before flying home on Sunday.
I got to the Trevi fountain before the fam, saw them before they saw me, and it was a wonderful reunion. Much hugging and kissing and then wedging ourselves down to the very cooling water through the millions of tourists. It was as hot in Rome as in Firenze, in the 90s. After throwing coins in the water, I flagged down a taxi (unusual) and he first said he could not take 5 people, but relented owing to the kids. Got back to their Airbnb in the Trastavere neighborhood which was totally active and cooking. We hung out for a bit, then took a walk around the neighborhood before dinner. Dinner was at a trattoria looking onto a piazza where they were doing an outdoor movie, ET, a bit later. After dinner it was gelateria and then back to the apartment, where I decided to stay with the boys while Bec and Bill had an unexpected date night. This dinner was the least good of any in Italy - the pasta was severely undercooked for all of our dishes - very unusual.