November 7, 2021
To Fiumicino
In the land of dreams
The night before last I woke up with a travel-themed dream, not an unusual occurrence for me at the end of a tour. Not a lot of specifics stayed with me when I woke up, but I was driving a car, navigating my way through some sort of badlands-like wasteland filled with irregular, disintegrating man-made structures. A setting inspired by the Roman Forum perhaps, or from here in Viterbo. I had navigational assistance from my copilot Andrea Brown riding shotgun, peering through the darkness looking for possible avenues through the maze ahead. Frustrating, as one possibility after another proved to be a dead end. Making no headway, I woke up and went to the bathroom instead.
Last night - early this morning actually - I awoke to another vivid vision. I realized that I had failed to take a photograph of some scene or structure that had particular appeal to me when I biked past it yesterday. It was tall and spindly, maybe like the cross at the top of Mount Palanzana that Rachael and I climbed yesterday. I considered getting up early to go back out for a quick shot before we left town, but then remembered that the bikes were already suitcased and there wouldn’t be time. Another frustrating situation, with the same escape route taken as the night before.
And perhaps two hours later, a third situation. Rachael and I were returning to some spot here in Viterbo, going to pick up our bicycles that we had briefly left unlocked leaning against a wall for some reason. We were shocked to round the corner and find them both missing. We looked around frantically but didn’t see them anywhere. Robbed! A terrible situation, and I quickly ran through some possible next steps while calculating what their value was and if we should just let them go and start over when we got home. I even wondered if there’d .be time to replace them before our next tour, given problems with product shortages, Covid, and broken supply chains. Finally though I remembered that the bikes were just up in our apartment where we leftthem, in their suitcases waiting to go home. I can almost hear the sound of a head slap when the insight occurred.
So let’s go home.
In the real world
It’s the end of the road, tourwise. Getting home from here is a simple two step, beginning with catching the train to Fiumicino where we’ll stay tonight at the airport hotel there since our flight departs so early tomorrow morning.
Before leaving though, let’s take a last look around this apartment we’ve been staying at the last three nights.
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So we’re back in the real world now, but somehow it still feels pretty nightmarish. The train station is at exactly the wrong distance away - about a third of a mile. Too short for it to make sense to try to get a taxi, but definitely too long to be hauling our bicycles and associated baggage. By the time we finally reach the station we’re both exhausted. For me it’s especially difficult because my panniers and some other odds and ends are in a large duffel bag that’s heavy and very awkward to carry while hauling this heavy suitcase behind with it. It’s probably physically the hardest thing I’ve done in the entire five month tour.
The scene at the Viterbo train station is strange and confusing. There are only two tracks and according to the departures board ours is on the one farther away, with the first one in between. There’s no underpass get to it though and there are signs clearly stating not to cross the tracks. There’s no one around to ask for how to handle this other than two women staffing the bar, and they’re of no help at all.
In the meantime a solo traveler shows up, also traveling to Rome and also uncertain what to do. We pantomime it over (she’s Asian, and doesn’t speak English). Finally, I figure it out: about a hundred yards back is a walkway crossing the tracks, with a sign suggesting that you watch out for trains when you cross.
We haul our mountain of crap back there, cross the track after carefully looking both ways, and walk up the other platform to what we assume is our train which has been parked here the whole time. It’s here already because it’s the end of the line and it’s presumably just been sitting here since the last arrival. We could board now if we were certain this were the right train, but there’s no one to ask.
Then, an odd event occurs that resonates with our confusion boarding the train in Ostiense three days ago. The other woman has stayed behind on the other side of the tracks still and in the meantime she’s also asked the women at the bar and somehow concluded that the train is leaving from the other track. She beckons us back, thinking we’re wrong. We say no, the train is listed to leave from track 2, not 1. She shakes her head, says something about two for one or whatever that we don’t understand. We’re just about to believe she’s on to something and hurry back across to the other track before we’re too late, when finally an agent shows up and clarifies matters. We’re in the right place, and can just step on the train which is due to depart any moment. So we beckon back to the other traveler and she hurries in our direction, boarding just in time herself.
This is a modern train, one with one of those display monitors that lets you know what stop is upcoming and other useful information. Our target is the Transtevere station about 25 stops away, where we’ll transfer to the train to Fiumicino. Very simple - just watch the board and prepare to get off when your stop approaches. Which we do - yet somehow at the last minute I think we’re not at the right stop yet and we don’t get off after all. Fortunately the next stop, Ostiense, also connects with the Fiumicino train and we make our connection in spite of ourselves.
A short train ride to the airport, on a packed train. We’re in no hurry about getting off though because I assure Rachael we have plenty of time since this is the end of the line. When we try to get off though we have to fight our way through an army of onboarders that rush in while we and the others disembark. It’s the end of the line alright, but it departs in the other direction immediately.
We’re staying at the Rome Airport Hilton. It’s only 300 meters from our terminal and integrated with it: access is simple, facilitated by a moving walkway. At check-in we ask how early we should arrive in the morning for our 6AM departure and are told to be there two hours early. We request a 3AM wake up call to allow an abundance of time and then spend the balance of the day having lunch at the hotel restaurant and just hanging out.
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2 years ago
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Safe travels coming home.
2 years ago
Nevertheless, welcome home!! Another great and safe trip and a great journal. Thank you for showing us all so many beautiful places. You are now responsible for our longing to be in those places. But maybe we can someday now that we know where they are.
2 years ago
2 years ago
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2 years ago
Do we have any plans for the future though? Hmm. I’ll have to check the calendar and get back to you on that.
2 years ago