Last hike and hello to Rome...

I'm going to miss these views

and the tranquillity

and the sense of achievement

the beach is my destination

but this part of my journey is coming to an end

and I have to move on

to new experiences and destinations 

and perhaps one day to some 5 star accommodation!

It’s 4.50 am. I am dragging my suitcase in the dark behind Tiburtina train station in Rome, trying not to get wet as it’s raining lightly, when I instinctively touch my head to check for my reading glasses and they are not there!

A moment of panic (I can’t read at all without them) when I realise that I don’t have time to go back to the Tiburtina Guest House where I stayed overnight.

I am glad I packed some spares and plan to call Malik the friendly “foreign worker” who is in charge of the place in Fabbio, the owner’s absence, at a more decent hour, to ask if he can keep them for me until I get back to Rome.

Now I’m sitting on the Tiburtia to Fiumicino airport train, exhausted after dragging my suitcase up and down 3 flights of stairs and then dragging it up the still sleeping escalator to Binario 10.

I arrived in Rome last night from Sorrento at about 11pm on The Marrozzi bus which should have left at 5pm but instead left at 6.45, so by the time I got off the bus I was tired and hungry. In the dark, I struggled to remember Fabbio’s instructions to the “guesthouse” which I had booked on the internet due to its cost and location. To be honest, I was a bit worried about the place, but figured I could put up with most things for one night. Technically it would only be a matter of hours anyway, just enough time to crawl between the hopefully bed-bug free sheets to rest and then get up early to catch the train to the airport.

As I tried to find my way to the train station to begin following Fabbio’s directions, my phone started ringing in my pocket. I was so relieved when it was him checking on whether I was still arriving. I’d like to think it was for my well-being, but I suspect it was because I hadn’t actually handed over any of the 50 euro I owed him for keeping the room. As I struggled up the hill trying to find the bridge I was supposed to cross that was only 5 minutes away, I avoided making eye contact with the few dubious characters I passed, hoping I did not look like an easy target.

But I had a bigger problem. What to do with one of my bags?

I thought I was being clever when I purchased my two Samsonite ultra lite suitcases as a present to myself before heading off on this mid life gap year. The idea was I would buy one medium sized bag and 1 smaller in-cabin bag and then carry a small day pack with all my docs and money etc. The reality is it isn’t working well. Firstly it’s costly having 2 bags no matter what size, as the airlines now charge for any more than 1 bag and secondly no matter how fit or determined you are it’s still hard work trying to negotiate two heavy bags down flights of stairs –this morning the lift that was working in the guest house last night, was mysteriously silent and I had to carry my bag down the stairs.

I was glad I had gone on a reconnaissance mission after checking in last night –and bought a ticket and checked which platform to go to and that there was in fact a direct train to the airport and its frequency. The last thing I would have wanted to do this morning was to be trying to figure all that out with luggage. Which brings me to my latest worry; I’ve decided to leave my second bag at the guest house while I go to Greece and I’m not sure it was a good idea.  It was a split second decision after Fabbio (the mysterious owner who conducts his business over the phone) reluctantly agreed when I asked last night. I told him it would be for a few days, but  actually it’s for ten and I am now wondering if I will see my bag again. I did press a 5 euro note into Malik’s hand and look him straight in the eyes and say “you will look after my bag for me won’t you Malik? ” “His si signora, you can trust me was reassuring, but ….” oh well… this is what they mean by adventures isn’t it?.

I’m sitting on the train full of early morning commuters, hungry (breakfast was an apricot juice and packaged cream bun, the only things on the sad breakfast tray that Malik bought in to me late last night that I could actually eat) but I'm glad I have made it so far. I should be at the airport in plenty of time to catch my Alitalia flight to Athens.

A presto

Mon x

PS Damn! In my hurry to get on the train and find my spare glasses, I forgot to “validate” my train ticket. Just hope the inspectors don’t check as otherwise the 8 euro cost could well triple. Oh well…