There it is with all the people standing 'round outside. Now, remember how sometimes when you go to the delicatessen there's this ticket machine on the counter? Well, same system at the information kiosk. Only difference was, there were two different types of ticket you could get - one was for "information" and the other was for "complaints". Luckily I chose the right one - at 9:00 o'clock in the morning I was number 318 - mmmmmm??
Anyway, after hanging about with a couple of dozen other folk my number came up and in I went - to find a long counter with five women sitting behind lexan security screens. (I wonder wh.... - never mind.) I noticed one of them had "318" flashing above it, and being the keen witted, intelligent person that I am, walked forward to ask the question: "What platform does train number 588 leave from?
"The platform numbers are not shown until 15 minutes before the train departs" was the reply.
"Oh!! Ehhh!!... Ok" say I, and wander back outside with a bit of a dazed look on my face. After hearing the results of my endeavours, my lovely travelling companion, being a practical sort, suggested that the best thing for us to do was to go and have a cuppa.
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10:35 finds us both sitting in the correct seats, in the correct carriage, on the correct train, smiling at each other 'cause we did it. Yay!!
Now we're in Carriage 1. When the train comes into the station the front of the train - and therefore Carrriage 1 - is the furthest away from the point where you come onto the platform. To help you find your carriage and to help you with your luggage, there are a number of able bodied young men who are very eager to be of assistance. One such youngster, without us having to ask, helped us lift our suitcases onto the train, led us to our carriage and lifted the suitcases onto the overhead storage racks. Being of a benevolent and generous nature I decided he deserved a tip and handed him 3 euro. He immediately demanded 5 euro for each suitcase. This demand resulted in a sudden rise in blood pressure, a rush of adrenalin, and a series of negative responses on my part. We then proceeded to repeat our respective points of view to each other, quite a few times, until I was able to convince him that he would be better off leaving with 3 euro rather than nothing. He took my meaning, the 3 euro, and scarpered.
Just after we sat down, another couple of fellow travellers went through the same process with the same young man, and achieved the same result. Poor young lad wasn't having such a good day.
So on to Chusui to pick up a rental car. How hard can this be??
The itinerary told us that the pickup point was "Chusui City/Rail Office". To me, this indicates that the rental Car Office is in or near the Railway Station, so after arriving, we wandered around for awhile looking for it. No! Nothing here. We spotted some shops across the road and decided to go over and ask someone. A nice lady in a cafe told us in very broken English that it was down the road about 600 metres - so off we toddled, with suitcases in tow. Some considerable amount of time, and a lot of steps later, we find ourselves at the edge of town and about to enter bush country.
Deciding that this can't be right we head back towards the station. On the way back we spot the right street, that we'd obviously walked straight past before, so off we went again. This time, instead of heading in to the country we're heading deeper and deeper into suburbia. After a bit my wife decided she'd had enough of being led around by an idiot so, we give up and headed back to the station to get a taxi. We fully expected that he would just drive round the corner from the station and drop us off. Not so. Turns out, the City/Rail Office for Europcar is about two kilometres from the station in the middle of a small industrial area. Jacqui, did you feel your ears burning?
Look at this wonderful lady. She's just walked halfway round a strange town following her dopey husband, who didn't have a clue, and she still has a smile on her face.
Anyway, we settle ourselves into our rental car, set the GPS unit - called Tomasina - for Radda and off we go.
After a couple of hours trying to drive like an Italian, we arrive at La Bonatte in Radda to be greeted by our host for the next week. This is Gioia Milani - pronounced 'Joy-a' - with Denise outside La Bonatte.
So here we are for the next week, ready to kick back and relax after the hectic week in Rome.
This is our little two bedroom hide-away.
and this is the view from our bedroom.
and, as our hostess has left us a nice bottle of their own vintage, I'm off to try a drop.
See ya!
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