Transitions are part of travel. Closing down one stage and opening another. In between are trains, boats and automobiles.
As I think about saying good-bye to our kind host, Marta, in Tarragona as she took us to the train station I am reminded that I really like her and miss her. This kind of travel in which we stay with folks opens a view of the world we enter in each place; then we turn our faces to the next place. How much we have appreciated Gary and Jaap and Ananeke in previous locations. This aspect of our journey has worked much better than we expected--a gift from the travel gods. (There must be such things. Somewhere, maybe the Prado, was a great painting of St. Anthony. Maybe he works on Air BnB too.) We are meeting our friends, Jean and Cynthia, and my sister Kitty, in Florence on Monday. Our small world will enlarge. We are excited for the company--and this company in particular. Yay!
But the time in between reminds that all travel is not peak experiences.
Train to Barcelona--beautiful views along the coast, crowded trains, our luggage taking up the aisle making others sidle around. We packed light considering that we packed for a journey of a year or more. It is not that light though. Train trips are when we really notice it since we must get everything up and down train steps at least and maybe steps to platforms. We are getting a relay routine down: train stops, we swing into action. On the other hand, other passengers seem to help quite often. It is in their interest to get us out of the way too. Several willing hands at Barcelona Sants.
Hotel time in Barcelona. We are spending down hotel points which I accrued on refugee circuit rides. Six weeks here and there in chain hotels has added up even for me who was not that good at managing my points. So a night in a Sheraton. Halloween pumpkins for décor. Business center. City bus to the Ramblas for dinner. We are getting to be quite good on city transport systems. After superb paella along the coast, we really wanted--a hamburger! Found it too in a Viennese cafe.
On Friday--a ferry to Italy.
I have been known to drive 200 miles out of my way to take a ferry. I was so excited to find that 8 different ferries go to Italy from Barcelona. They go other places too. During our first stay in Barcelona, we were looking down on the ferry dock. Our tickets were Barcelona to Genoa. Be still, my heart!
The Friday morning reality was more stark. The ferries are in the freight dock. We were the only walk on passengers. The relatively few other passengers drove on. Our boat seemed to be transporting mainly new cars for sale. No one much knew what to do with us--police check point, unmanned. We finally found someone. A bus from the police point to the ferry--30 yards, only us. Couldn’t get on yet--where can we wait? Much back and forth--ask that person; no, that one. No one spoke Spanish or English. Eventually we entered.
Tickets for Pullman sleepers on the Sky deck, Rossini room; map showing restaurants, piano bar, swimming pool. Sounds great. It is to laugh!
The Pullman sleepers are chairs that recline--a little. We were in the Puccini room with about 30 men and 2 women who had gotten on in Morocco, the origin of our boat. As far as I could make out, they are workers going together on some type of work contract. They all had the same blankets, same food bowls and spoons. I am reminded of my flight from Jogyakarta to Kuala Lumpur on the bargain flight--me and 200 Indonesian men who work in Malaysia.
The piano bar was as much like a Middle Eastern coffee shop as anything I have experienced--men, women and children settled in for the long haul with tiny cups of coffee. The piano was a climbing gym for the kids. Most restaurants closed by the time we entered and got settled; some clearly never open, these days.
The swimming pool had no water, big net. All the deck area around the pool was a shisha bar with several hookahs and tables of Moroccan men playing cards.
The Moroccans must have embarked in Tangier and must have been on the boat for at least one night. Everywhere in the boat were little camps where folks had set up their blanket and food and clothes packets. Reserved seats meant nothing--just as well as we got nice ones by the window instead of odd seats in the middle of the room. TV full of Arabic soap operas of family conflicts and love gone wrong, French language news, a long clerical lecture, and Bugs Bunny cartoons, also Popeye.
All our fellow passengers seemed wholesome, kindly people. We had to get by with smiles as I have only 2 words of Arabic (oh why didn’t I pay more attention!). They seemed to have no words of Spanish or English.
There are cabins--why was I unable to get one? Why did I think “Pullman” meant beds? What was I doing when booking? How could I do better? If there is a next time, I will figure it out, I hope.
Beautiful sunny day out on the decks. My hopes for seabirds of the open ocean came to naught as we hugged the coast of Spain going north. Good views of the Pyrenees and coastal towns. About 30 yellow legged gulls--no other birds. 3 fishing boats. 2 sail boats. A container ship off in the distance. An oil tanker off in the distance.
Sunset over Spain. After all there was a peak experience.
More sleep in the sleeping chairs than expected. A line of 100 people for coffee. Firm announcements that various categories of passengers must assemble in their assigned location by 6:30. We who are “a pie” should be in the 7th floor lobby. We are. Everyone else has tickets for car deck C. People tenderly stroking pets who have been in the pet accommodation. Where are the Moroccans who were in our sleeping room? Surely they are “a pie” too.
Restful waiting. Finally coffee. And in one sip--”Presto, presto. A pie. Al assensor!!!” Gulp, gulp. And down and out to Italy.
Sunrise in Genoa--another peak experience.
Good thing as we had a long walk to the actual passport control and exit.
Oh, a taxi to train station? You have to call the taxi company. Although there are few passengers on our ship, there is another ferry and a cruise ship--surely there could be a need for taxis? Guess not. Finally, we spy a Holiday Inn. Their kindly call resulted in a taxi, short trip to the train station. Time spent getting a “silver pass” for Nancy to get a train discount. Tickets to Pisa and onward tickets to Firenze as we are learning to call it.
The train and luggage thing again. No elevators or escalators. Very tall train with steep steps. Our relay system in action and kindly other passengers. Our luggage in the aisle again. Suitcase with 4 rolling wheels zooming down the aisle when the train moves--us chasing. Continuing patient other passengers.
Stunning journey. One of those unplanned good luck journeys. The train hugs the coast as the terrain is very steep. Lovely towns. Where are the tacky parts of town that huddle along train tracks in the US?
Mediterranean to the right of us; mountains to the left. Wow! Look at those mountains. Sharp peaks, way up there. White tops on some. Yikes--this it the area of Carrara marble and we see mountains of it being quarried, stacked, worked and ready to be shipped. There are miles of these mountains--the world will not run out of Carrara marble in case you were worried.
Pisa Centrale. Luggage and stairs thing again. No elevator. Relay. Kindly other passengers stepping in from time to time. Really, we are willing to pay porters if there were such a thing. There is no such thing. The few other travellers with much luggage, and in some cases children in tow, are doing the same as us--relay. A strong guy with family and much luggage just added us to his relay routine. (We carried one of the baby carriers. Laden mother is herding small children.)
Another points hotel--this time Marriott AC. We zoom past the old city walls, 18th C. buildings to suburbia. Hotel among suburban apartment blocks; mall a block away. We were starving and so glad to see a mall. Good food in a cafeteria. Major suburban grocery store. Delighted to get into our standard hotel room--soft beds, shower. Good internet to take care of business.
Tonight we veg. We might be getting a little old for the all-night-in-seats approach. The train luggage relay is already old. Tomorrow we will have time to find the historic center, leaning tower. Back to peak experiences and soon--friends.
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