Around The World Without Flying: Of trains and dogs and high dramas

I am going to jump out of order again tonight to tell you about my three successive train trips over two days to take me from the ship when it was docked in Naples in Southern Italy to Milan in Northern Italy, then from Milan to Paris, then from Paris to Amsterdam, so that I could join my riverboat cruise from Amsterdam to Budapest. We crossed over a couple of other countries along the way.

What a journey that was! At the stations - milling crowds from everywhere, old and young, standing for ages in the hot waiting areas intently watching the boards of arrivals and departures for up to 24 platforms, whistles and toots and squealing brakes from fast-moving trains arriving then departing within 10 minutes in the vast station complexes, police everywhere (and no gypsies, no doubt thanks to the police, though there were a few people wandering around with their hands out for money, and I think the police were there - with their guns - more because of fears of terrorism), people touting for business - carrying your luggage or getting you a taxi, crying babies, couples passionately parting from one another, and barking dogs . . . !!

Yes, dogs, though they only barked when they saw each other in the stations.

The bullet train from Naples to Milan, with several stops along the way, took almost 5 hours. While I had seen some very small dogs in their owners' arms over my two hours wait at Naples Central Station station, the owners had pet carriers with them so I assumed that was the done thing. But when I turned around in my First Class (and very comfortable) carriage, I was most surprised to see a lady sitting behind me with a golden cocker spaniel sitting happily on her lap. I must confess it was well-behaved though.

What I found was extraordinary was that dogs were even allowed on the overnight train from Milan to Paris. I saw one couple get on board the train with a big golden labrador, and take it into their sleeping compartment! I had a long five and a half hours wait for that train. As I waited, and waited, I even saw another couple with two big Alsatians and one Rottweiler boarding a train for Turano at 11 pm that night, which is a long journey too. How the dogs’ calls of nature were resolved I have no idea.

My excellent travel agent very wisely booked me into First Class carriages everywhere she could, primarily so I would be much safer and more comfortable given I am travelling on my own. Despite all the warnings I received and horror tales I heard, not only for Naples, where clearly there is dire poverty, but also for Rome and others major European cities, I only have had very civilised and pleasant experiences in terms of that kind of problem - so far at least.

However, having now travelled in two very comfortable, modern bullet trains, I was shocked by the standard, or rather lack of it, of the train to Paris. It would have been at least 40 years old, I would think, and there were parts such as the two toilets at the end of the carriage that at least 60 people had to share, that looked like they have never been washed down. They and the floor of my tiny - really tiny - compartment were filthy. (Moreover, the toilets stank and it appeared that the sewage just went straight down onto the tracks. Little flushing occurred too.) And this was supposedly ‘First Class’!

My compartment was only just over 1 metre wide and about 1.5 metre long, including the bed. A ladder to one of the upper bunks was balanced across the window. But then there was another door, so as I inspected my compartment I assumed that was the toilet. To my horror I found myself in the next tiny compartment with a man snoring away in his bed. He stirred in surprise. I apologised and beat a very hasty retreat, then barricaded the door with my heavy suitcase! Goodness - how embarrassing!

Not being able to board until 11.30 pm, after the long wait in the heat and all this drama, I was so exhausted I just flopped onto my bed, only to have the porter (whom I only saw once on the almost 11 hours on the train, and that was then) knock on my door offering for me to go down to the lounge for a welcome champagne - it was midnight and he could not understand why I declined his offer (with as much politeness I could muster at that ungodly hour) - and then he asked for my passport.

At 5 am there was another knock on my door, this time a smiling policeman returning the passport . . . What next?

I had to catch a taxi from the station that train arrived at, to Paris Nord, where I was to catch the train to Amsterdam. I had a 2-hour wait there, but near the end of that there was another drama, with many police swarming around the platform of our train, some from the security forces with bullet-proof vests, all with guns. We were forced to queue and go through X-ray machines with all our luggage. Luckily nothing eventuated and we all arrived safely in Amsterdam. Then, if it weren't for a lovely young taxi driver who went out of his way to help me, I would never have found the river boat. (Actually, I should call it a river ship.) I made it just half an hour before our first big meeting.

And I must thank all the kind people who lifted my heavy luggage up or down the steep steps in the trains. Volunteered kindness from strangers is just so uplifting. It makes up for a lot, doesn't it?

But here I am, about to go to bed. I now think back to that poor man who I surprised last night and am having a great giggle. And goodness knows what the policemen thought when he saw me at 5 am this morning, all dishevelled from tossing and turning all night on that uncomfortable little bed, and fairly scantily dressed as it was so hot. Those who know me well will remember the tale of my midnight encounter in similar hot conditions when my fire alarm went off at home and four burly firemen and two burly policemen pounded on my front door and insisted on being let in - NOW!!! And there was me startled out of my sleep by the alarm and running around with little on and trying to look for a thief and to answer the phone to the security company. And all caused by a tiny insect that had crept into the smoke detector . . .

Our first outing is at 8 am tomorrow morning! Never a dull moment!