Trani to Rome, Italy - July 4, 2011

Made it to the Trani Train Station in plenty of time. Now here’s the thing about the train to Rome, you need to buy your tickets (one-way ticket is called a biglietto), designate the day you will be travelling, and after getting the ticket, you need to validate it in some yellow validation machines. Basically you just insert your ticket in the end that says “Ordine di stampa” into the machine and it punches the date on there. If you don’t do that, and you enter the train without your ticket validated, you will catch heck from the train conductor. So validate! Which we did. A good thing, they accept VISA credit cards, so one of my worries alleviated.

Gaby at the train station.

The conductor - and Sarah.

It was kinda sad leaving the Ewings’ beautiful apartment. I already miss Shanoah and the other cat who was really just a shadow. Shanoah definitely likes company. She seemed to like to sit on Gaby mostly, on the group collage, and sometimes on personal items, which got us to screaming, “where the heck is my so-and-so?!?” of which often the answer was UNDER Shanoah.

"Where the heck is my iPod?!"

Now we are on the train itself. It’s clean, comfortable and cozy. It wasn’t easy fitting all our bags on the train, but we shove them in cubbies, above our heads and a good number of them are sitting next to me in my single seat. We didn’t get that the seats were assigned and the seat numbers on the ticket (we have just one ticket for all four of us), so we sat wherever. Luckily, some woman showed us which car to get onto, so at least we got that right. The W/C’s are so bad also. I had read they could be pretty bad, but in fact, they are not at all. They’re a lot like an airplane head, only cleaner and a bit bigger.

Today is Gaby’s birthday. She’s 15 and quite happy it’s her birthday. Traveling is stressful, so we haven’t had time to give her a proper birthday greeting. She’s watching a movie right now on Catalina’s video iPod, Sarah is sitting two rows away, reading, and Catalina is napping. It costs a total of 204 euro for the four of us to go one way to Rome. It’s less than I thought. Plus, we got to go directly from Trani to Rome. That’s a great convenience. I’m wondering if we can lighten our bags at all. It would mean dumping something, beach towels? Headrests? Shoes? Heavens, no, not the shoes. What am I typing? Have I gone mad?

The countryside is dotted with short groomed trees, lots of golden hay pastures and pretty bushes populated with white and pink flowers. I had seen one of these bushes once in Windsor at a tag sale. It was years ago and I was admiring the woman’s flora when she told me her mother came from Italy with some seeds and planted them. Alas, only one seed sprouted and grew to an amazing bush with tons of pink flowers, not terribly unlike a rhodie, only more delicate. Now I am seeing these native bushes everywhere.

We are passing through the town of Corso. The houses are made of stone and/or stucco and nestled in hillsides. It seems like a small vineyard accompanies all these homes. Sometimes they are abandoned, evidenced by the blown-out stone windows. The rooftops are tile, like in southern California.

Catalina and Gaby are sitting across from two young men. One is black and the other Caucasian. They sing along with their iPod songs, Stevie Wonder and other American singers. It’s funny to hear them talking Italian, singing English. They are able to use their phones on the train. 

The guys that Catalina and Gaby talked to on the train.

Sarah just used the head. The wobbliness of the train made it challenging for her. Good thing she’s not a dude at a time like this. Once, I was driving my younger brother’s camper and Steve had to use the toilet. He mentioned the difficulty standing and, well, you know. And suddenly I had to stop at a light, not being used to the brakes in the camper. “Geez,” I thought, “I hope he’s okay,” after hearing a serious of strange thuds coming from the small room. I applied the accelerator as gently as I could, but alas, it was still a bit choppy leaving from the stoplight. Again, more thuds and a loud moan. Well, that was years ago. (Michael, if you’re reading this, please know that we DID clean the camper bathroom.)

I’m not sure where we are at this moment, but there are lots of large hills and the landscape is considerably greener and loads more grape and olive vineyards. I’m listening to Christopher Cross’  “Sailing.” Alright, I know what you’re thinking, but this nostalgic song works perfectly with us sailing through the countryside.

You know, lots of vineyards along the way to Rome...

Gaby and Catalina are chatting with the Italian boys sitting across from them. I had to move my seat, so I’m not close enough to hear what they’re saying. I’m surprised the boys speak English, as I had only heard them singing English earlier. I heard the words “George Bush” and “Sarah Palin” which leads me to believe the conversation is about we are not all lovers of every president that’s shoved down our throats and particularly odd Alaskans. Again, I hear whining from the peanut gallery so I’m gonna tell you, I like Christopher Cross and I didn’t like Bush(es) even when before it cool to dislike Bush.

I wish Stephen were with us. I know he’d love this…the beach, the countryside, the shopping (well, maybe not the shopping), the old part of the town, the park, the train ride. Not really a mancation like he’s used to..I mean, his man-partners, Steve and Bill would be noticeably missing, but he’d love this. We’re passing through a town where zoning is non-existent. Actually, zoning is likely not in Italy’s vocab. I’m just guessing. It’s adorable to see these small alley ways and in some cases, old buildings right up next to each other. It’s friendly and friend-inducing. Gaby told me yesterday, as we were strolling through the park, that she wished she lived in a place where neighbors, family and friends gathered to just stroll…just because it seemed so community-oriented.

We’re in Caserta now. Another stop. We passed through the mountains. I believe we’re halfway to Rome. Sarah and I headed to the café car and got a cappuccino. The server had some of the most brilliantly blue eyes I had ever seen. We talked about staying in Rome, how nice and relaxing it was to be on the train, and how nice it was that the girls found someone to chat with on the train.

Ah! Roma Termini, our stop. It went by a lot faster than I thought. Wow, the terminal is crowded. It was a little difficult getting our bags off the train, only because they were a bit bigger than we should have had…but it wasn’t to be helped. There are spots for big bags, you have to get to them early. Note to self, next time pay attention to seat numbers so that we don’t have to move. At least we were in the right train car number. Anyway, the train terminal is a huge hub of activity…shops, cops, money exchanges, info, ticket windows and people of all different nationalities. Outside the train terminal I did not see the dreaded “gypsies” or anything else dicey. But Rome is a definite different look than Trani. Trani it was “slow” (as they like to call themselves), tranquil, a beach town, a good-looking, clean place. Rome’s train station has much more graffiti, oldness, quickness, people hurrying all around, and more grittiness.  As we walked to our hostel, we saw some cool buildings with columns, statues, just luscious architecture filled with decorative masonry…along with grit from car exhaust. One church we walked by was extraordinarily tall with a stunning Virgin Mary statue up high. We didn’t have our cameras out yet.

Catalina happy to be lying down in our Rome apartment (hostel).

Labicana - the street we're on.

Looking upward in the courtyard where we're staying.