Eventful Easter Holiday: The Triumphant Return (Part IV of IV)

Destination: München.  Time of departure: 13.00.  ETA: 21.30.  Scheiße.  Although the train was 20-30 min. late, I was able to get a seat in a compartment to myself.  Score.  It didn't seem as if it would be that bad.  However, the conductor told me that the compartment in which I was sitting only was going to Villach, Austria (3ish hours away) when he came to collect tickets.  Although he said that I could stay until then, I'd have to change compartments at that time.  Ugh.  I decided to venture into the compartments of the train that were going all the way so I didn't have to worry about some mishap occurring and me being stuck in southern Austria.

Only one seat was available in the next compartment.  It was next to an attractive young woman who appeared to be my age (plus, a higher proportion of young people spoke English, so I figured I would actually be able to communicate with her).  I asked if the seat was available.  The first thing out of her mouth was: "FINALLY!  Someone who speaks English!"  Good life choice.  I sat down and we talked pretty much the entire train ride.  Denise was from Germany and was doing her Master's thesis research in Montenegro (something on tourism development and economics).  I found out that she was from Bonn!  I've been there!  Although she didn't live in Köln (Cologne), the neighbouring/COOLEST city in the country, THANK GOD her hometown wasn't Düsseldorf or I'd have had to leave.  There's a big rivalry between the two cities, and Köln wins in all of the right categories.

The train passed through Slovenia and Austria, which were both very pretty.  The mountains and the villages and cities that speckled the countryside make each country, especially Austria, great places to visit.  You can't help but think to yourself: "the hills are alive with the sound of music!"  Haha.  Darkness didn't fall until we entered Germany.  By that time, I was starting to get nervous about what was going to happen when the train arrived in München.  Denise was kind enough to call ahead to some of her friends (two of whom would meet us at the train station) and her mom to ask about the possible options for me once I got there.  The options didn't look good.  Apparently the French railway workers were striking, so travelling through the country was not an option: no Paris meant no Eurostar train (directly to London) and no Calais meant no ferry to Dover.  VRAIMENT ?!  POUR QUOI MAINTENANT ?  Je ne voulais que retourner à Londres ! WTF?!  The only choice was Belgium; one could get the Eurostar from Brussels or the ferry from Oost Ende.  At least there were other options than France.

We finally arrived in München and met up with Denise's friends.  All three were kind enough to help me locate the automated ticket machines.  However, the machine wouldn't let me book the ticket.  The route was mapped out--München to Köln to Brussels to London--but there was no option to purchase the seats.  That meant that it was sold out.  ARGH!  It said to see a ticket agent.  By then it was 22.  The ticket offices were closed.  NEIN!  We went to the information desk, but they said that they couldn't sell any tickets.  Denise and her friends said that it was possible to speak with the conductor of the train as they are able to sell tickets.  When they spoke to the men in charge of the Köln section of the train, the conductors said that it was all sold out and that I'd have to wait until the morning to get on another train.  That was apparently the best option.  The next trains weren't until 3 or 5.  However, after thinking about all of my options, I wanted to try and get as far as I could until there were no options left.  A section of the train was going to Stuttgart, and the woman who was in charge of that section of the train said that she could only sell me a ticket to there.  I'd have to wait to see if there were any seats when in Stuttgart.  The train left at 22.45 with me on it.  Tschüß, Denise.  It was the most abrupt "goodbye" that I've ever made.

As I went to pay for the ticket, the woman told me to wait.  There could possibly be a seat.  She'd check to see.  It was about 2 when we pulled into Stuttgart.  Still no seat available.  I bought the damn ticket to Stuttgart.  The heightened tiredness, along with the sobering fact that I'd be spending the night in a random German city train station, was starting to kick in.  It felt as if I was stranded.  A new conductor for the Köln section of the train was taking tickets, so I tried to see if there were available seats.  I wasn't the only person.  Too bad for me that everyone else could understand German.  The woman started to walk away.  I had to ask again if there were any seats.  I caught up with her and asked.  She coldly told me that she was checking, and that I had to wait there.  Just as the train was about to pull away, she came back and told the 6 of us who were waiting that there were in fact seats!  Finally--no dead end here!

ARSCHLÖCHER!  There were seats all along!  I saw two seats that were available (on which two men were propping up their feet whilst sleeping) in the compartment across from the fold-down seat in the aisle on which I was sitting!  Moreover, when the conductor was coming around to take tickets, she told me to sit in another compartment in which there was a free seat!  At least I was able to sit on something with cushions and catch a few hours of sleep until we arrived in Köln at 6.

The train was about 20 minutes late.  I still needed to buy the tickets to Brussels and London.  This was a problem because the earliest trains out were at 6.44 to Brussels and 9.30 to London.  By the time that I queued for the tickets and made it to the agent, it was too late to catch those trains.  In response to my request to be on the next train to London, he gave out a little laugh and said that the next train was not for three days.  FML.  After a minute or so of searching, he said that there was actually a seat on the 14.30 train (for arrival in London St. Pancras--which is a 7 min walk from my hall--at 15.30).  FANTASTISCH!  I'd arrive in Brussels at 10 and leave at 14.30.  PERFECT!  I'd never seen Brussels before, so I'd get to explore the city AND get back to London that afternoon!!!!!

Brussels was pretty, and it was a nice day.  Luckily the city's centre was small, so I was able to walk around and see many of the major sites before hopping on the Eurostar (which had an empty seat next to me!) to return home.  FINALLY!  What was supposed to be a 2.5 hour flight ended up being a 26 hour ride across the continent.  At least I got to see two extra countries, and saved $100 (when my flight refund is processed).  The adventure would have been a lot more fun if I didn't have to have been back for classes (of which I only missed three days)!

Fin.

Eventful Easter Holiday (Part III of IV)

Flight = cancelled.  School started the next day, and it was disappointing to miss class.  However, there was nothing that could be done.  The airline had a toll-free number, which I was able to call and get on a flight to London that left on Tuesday evening.  Fine.  Book it.  Michael cooked a nice lunch whilst I was sorting everything out.  After eating, I decided to move on.  Zagreb, Croatia was a two-hour train ride away and Michael said it was supposed to be nice (he was going there next).  I wanted to go to Budapest, Hungary, but it was too far away and there was too little time.  It seemed as if his research on Slovenia payed off (for the both of us!), so why not listen and go to Croatia?  There was nothing left to do or see in Ljubljana, so I purchased a return ticket to Slovenia and was on the next train out of the country.  The real adventure began.

The train ride to Zagreb, Hrvatska (Croatia) was pleasant.  We passed through hills and small towns, snaked along rivers and dashed across green fields.  We stopped at the border on both the Slovenian/European Union and Croatian sides.  It was actually kind of odd to go through a border on the continent that you actually had to show your passport and got a stamp.  It was obvious that EU membership/money made a difference to Slovenia.  You could immediately see the difference between the two countries--Croatia was visibly more run-down and poorer.  The countryside and villages through which we passed were decent, although the ride into Zagreb was not impressive (as was the case with Ljubljana).  Again, to use an apropos cliché, it was foolish to judge this book by the cover.

Zagreb was a bigger, more eye-pleasing version of Ljubljana.  The entire city could have used a thorough powerwash and re-plastering/re-cementing.  Actually, the old buildings with decaying facades looked quite rustic and regal.  There were plenty of green spaces that had trees and flowers in bloom, which were gorgeous.  The churches in the city were pretty, and the hill up which the city crawled and over which you could look over the city offered splendid views on the warm, sunny day.  Colourful restaurants and shops lined the upper town's (hill) streets were overflowing with people walking, chatting and eating under the outside tables with umbrellas.  It was very pleasurable.  However, I was anxious to get back to London.

Tuesday couldn't have come soon enough.  It seems as if I could only spend 1.5-2ish days in a city before becoming bored and wanting to move on.  The fact that I was missing class, and my friends who I hadn't seen in 3+ weeks, didn't help the matter.  I was constantly checking the internet at the crappy hostel in which I was staying (appropriately named, "Funk Hostel") for information on my flight and Gatwick Airport/British airspace.  The airline stated that there would be an update on my flight at noon, and the British airspace was closed until 19.00.  My flight was supposed to land at 19.25.  Gatwick's website, which provided updates about the status of the volcanic ash and resulting airport closures, stated that it was unlikely that the airspace would be open at all on that day.  Shit.  However, the day before I spotted the airline office from the place on the main square at which I was sitting for lunch.  It was time to go and check the status of the flight.  They told me to come back at 12 when the main office would provide them with information and they could act appropriately.  For curiosity, I asked when the next available flight was to London; it was Sunday.

By this time Michael was supposed to be arriving by train in Zagreb.  His train was late, so I enquired about train tickets to London.  They only had seats available on the train to München (Munich), Germany.  Another bloke, who was standing in the queue behind me, was waiting to book a ticket to get to Edinburgh, Scotland.  He too had no luck, and proposed getting the train to München and then renting a car to get from there to Paris (to catch the Eurostar train), to which there were no train seats available that day, or to all the way to London.  Michael finally arrived and I explained my situation as the Croat called his wife, who apparently was a travel agent.  After some thought and discussion, I decided to pass on waiting for the official announcement on the flight (which was 99% likely to be cancelled) and book the ticket to Germany.  That was the first of many decisions to take a train where I didn't know what the hell would happen on the other end.  When, if seemingly ever, would I get home?!

To be continued...  The end is next (I promise)!