Greetings from Cinque Terre, Italy.
Getting here was not an easy task today. I came from Switzerland, over the Alps by bus and then to Milan by train. Three more trains brought me to my final destination where I nearly couldn't find a room. It was the first train from Bellinzona, Switzerland to Milan, Italy that caused the most trouble.
I took care to make the required reservation and scouted the train for my assigned seat. When I arrived at car 314, seat 101, there was an old man sitting in 102 and his stuff was in my seat. I gestured towards the seat indicating that it was my seat thinking he would kindly move his stuff. Instead I got a slew of French thrown at me by him and then his wife, who was sitting across from him. I held up my hands as if to say, "I have no idea what you nutters are talking about."
What in the world? Did I have the wrong seat? Did I make another Euro mistake?
I quickly left the car and poked my head outside and asked the ticket man if he spoke English. He did and I told him the problem. He got on the train and took my reservation card and began discussing the situation with the couple. I just stood there not knowing what was happening and the whole train car was watching whatever it was that was unfolding.
It soon became clear to me that I had the right seat because Mr. and Mrs. Grumpy Pants were getting more and more angry at the train guy. I leaned over and asked a woman if she knew what they were saying. She told me that there was no reservation posted on the seat so they were not going to give it to me. (Usually reserved seats have a sign that they are reserved and for the segment of the trip that they will remain reserved.)
The whole mess ended with me sitting next to the woman who explained the situation and the couple continually muttering throughout the two hour journey their thoughts on "reservatione". It was rediculous. At one point a man a couple rows back began to scold the old couple. I only knew this because he was speaking with much force towards them and the two finally shut up and let me get my stuff organized on the rack above them. Once the man interfered for me I started to tear up just before taking my seat. The whole thing was overwhelming and extremely petty.
An hour later the couple were complaining about the situation and the woman who helped me get a seat told me that they had said there reserved seat numbers and they were actually in the WRONG SEATS. They had taken her seat to begin with. What a pair! It's a good thing I couldn't mouth off back to them because I'm pretty sure I could have come up with some zingers after all that.
4 comments:
Doug Stevens had an eerily similar story about reserved seats at the Oakland/Berkeley speaker series when he spoke at Mission Springs on Friday night.
You handled the situation perfectly.
You know how to handle yourself well. You go girl!
Mom
BTW, Dad just came up to the home office and said "you're in my seat". He doesn't understand why I'm laughing at him. Poor silly guy!
Your posts remind me of my own InterRail adventures from Dec 1978-Jan 1979 (30 years ago - yikes!)There were a lot of Aussies on the road back then, usually for 60 days rather than the 2-4 weeks that most of us were planning. Their predominant comment? "It's no vacation!"
Oy vey! But, Julia wins again! (The link to your blog from mine is called "julia vs. europe" - I have full confidence that Europe doesn't stand a chance against you!) I am so glad you are enjoying yourself. But I miss you much (as is always the case - it just seems more pronounced with you on another continent and not just the coast)!
I had a similar experience in France only the other way round. I just bought a train ticket and sat in a free seat not knowing it was reserved. A huge woman got on the train and started shouting at me in French I just ignored her, then staff came on the train and shouted at me some more in French. i got off the seat and the woman sat down. It took me about 3 days to find out what happened.
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