When on the go traveling with multiple stops, you’re either tucked in at your B&B or in transition. Once settled, everything is peachy for the most part. Yeah you have to figure out the washing machine or the shower knobs, but things are relaxed. However, when you have to pull up stakes and find the next place, it’s a bit stressful. After a cappuccino and a sweet, as is the custom in Italy, it’s on to the bus schedule. Sounds easy, but we just changed to Italian from Spanish and it ain’t the same. Thank goodness I’m with Cheryl who loves the challenge of booking airlines, trains, buses and taxis in different languages. Now don’t get me wrong, it is extremely stressful and I have blushed on more than one occasion as she has cursed when things don’t go as planned.“Mi scusi!” I offer to the casual passer-by, who is unaware of the necessary de-stressing comforts of a good curse. Once figured, we have to find the merchant (this time it’s a bar) that sells billettos for the bus.
Off to Bergamo. The buses are modern and relatively new in this area, so it’s an enjoyable ride. Once there, we cross the street, admiring some awesome architecture on the way, and find the train station. Oh no, another schedule! “Mi scusi, piccolo problema.” (I got your back Cheryl). The check-in at our next place is 7pm and it’s lunch time, so we have some time to kill. Soda, wifi and a place to sit and write this entry. There’s a library here, but we have to find it. My iPhone skills always improve geometrically in these scenarios and that is always a good thing as I’m an “old guy” (as pointed out by several former friends.) There’s a wifi sign on a pole and we gather around it and pull up “Around Me” – an app I use to find stuff. No soap, can’t hook up for some reason. So I ask a student in black with backpack, “Dove biblioteca?”. Hot dang! He speaks Inglese and directs us in the right direction. Five or six blocks later, we find it and it doesn’t open till 2:30. “Mi scusi,” I say to the Italian woman who scowls from under her scarf as Cheryl blurts out yet another necessary curse. We settle for a cafe with wifi and cappuccino. “Cappuch!” yells the person behind the register to the barista as I order another cup of ambrosia. I must admit I’ve never had a poor cup of coffee or cappuccino in Italy. They all have those machines with steamed milk.
So here we sit in Bergamo typing at a table in a cafe while waiting for the train and I like it. We’ve been in Europe for 42 days and I‘m not homesick. We’re even in that rough transitional period of relocating and still content. Now that’s amore! I’ll make this a two-parter as I’m sure there will be more story on this one bus two train sojourn. Arrivederci.