After a chilly night in our cute Airbnb in Rome, we were eating breakfast and decided that since it was still raining outside and was uncomfortable inside we would look at taking an earlier train to Tuscany, to our next stop in the town of Siena. It was going to be tight, but we thought if we hurried we could make the 10:22.

We finished our quick breakfast, repacked our bags, and apped for a cab. I think I just coined a phrase!! We didn’t “call” for a cab, we used the “FREE NOW” APP, so we “apped” for a cab. See how that works?? :0) This app is similar to Uber except it contacts official cabs. The nicest part is that like Uber, payment is done through the app and is pre-determined. It gives the driver incentive to get you there quickly instead of taking the “scenic route”.

The cab (that we apped) came REALLY quickly, within one minute, so we were scrambling. It was raining, vehicles were piling up behind it and the driver couldn’t sit long on the narrow street. He quickly loaded our bags, we fell into the backseat, and off he roared making 90 degree turns like a precision machine.

Now I’ve driven in some tough cities including Boston, New York, and Atlanta, and even in foreign countries on the wrong side of the road, but I do not want to drive in Rome. Lines mean little, lanes…what are lanes? “I know this side of the street was designed for one but there is plenty of room for two if you would just scrape your tires against the curb a little”. And then the motorcycle and Vespa drivers zip past on either side – all sides – while traffic is stopped or going!

Our driver seemed particularly incentivized and did his best to get us to the Termini train station (that’s the big one I mentioned in an earlier post) as quickly as possible, but traffic was tough on a Monday morning.

When we arrived he whipped over at an angle, jumped out and dropped our bags, and took off for his next victims, uh, passengers. We knew we needed to find someone quickly to ask questions of as it would take too long to figure out the machines, so we scanned the area and found a lady who spoke English. She advised that the train left from platform 1 which was the furthest away. When I asked if she thought we could make it she held out her hand, flipping it back and forth to say it would be iffy. We decided to go for it.

Across the terminal, down the escalators, we walked until we found the board displaying the 10:22 to Siena. Platform “2est”. The lady had said Platform 1. What to do now?? So we went to the entry to Platform 1 and asked the “helpful with information but not too nice about it” man. He repeated what the station board said, “2est” and pointed down the tracks to his left. So we started walking down the corridor in the direction he pointed, until we reached a barrier that said, “no entrance” (or some such in Italian). NOW WHAT – as all the time the clock is ticking. We walked back toward the man, noted where machines were to purchase tickets, which we had waited to do until we knew if we could make it, and asked him again about how to get to “2est”. He pointed in the same direction, this time saying “Platform 1”, the entry he was working. Sure enough, waaaaay down the platform, we could see signs for “2est”.

It was now going to depend on how fast we could get the tickets, how long the line was to get through the electronic entry point, and how far past the signs we could see until we found the train. We paused, and decided to try.

Have you ever bought tickets from a machine at a foreign train station? They are all similar – but different. Many that start in one language will allow you to change to another but, of course, figuring out how takes time – which we did not have. You never know how much info you will need to enter, whether your ticket will have to be validated at another machine before you board, or if your credit card will work.

I began typing in the name of the station to which we wanted to travel, the number of passengers, chose the time – less than 10 minutes away – and had to enter our names and phone numbers in a specific format. Aarrrrgghhh! I was nearly done when I accidentally chose “exit”, thinking it exited that section and it cancelled the transaction. I had to start over.

I reentered everything, and with Genny watching and prompting the two of us figured it out, made the payment, “would you like an email of your receipt? Enter your email address here”. I wanted to shout, “JUST GIVE ME THE TICKETS!!!” They finally printed, we raced to the entry, waited while others who obviously had plenty of time chatted with the man, and finally were on the other side.

As we walked we began to see signs for how many more meters to the platform – 450, 400, 350, I began calculating how many minutes between each sign and how many were left until the train departed, and it seemed impossible. Genny was walking as fast as her foot would allow, and it was not worth another injury, but when we finally saw the train – in the distance – people were literally running past us to catch it.

We agreed that I would go ahead and see if my being there with her being visible would be enough to get us on. By my watch we might have a minute left, so I surged ahead and caught the eye of the young railman standing by the back of the train. I tried to gauge my speed to get there before it left but give Genny time to get as close as possible, hoping the grandma card would work. He asked to see my ticket and told me “car 5”. It is difficult to tell which car is which on these trains, and we have found that even if we reserve seats, people tend to just sit where they want. But if you don’t reserve one and the train is full, you’ll be left standing. We didn’t take the time to pick seats for obvious reasons, but the machine apparently assigned us to car 5.

In the meantime Genny is drawing nearer. I pointed to her and said, “my friend is coming”, and he looked, sighed deeply, and nodded his head. Grandma card!

The nice railman said we could get on at the back and walk through to our car in order not to miss the train, so when she arrived I told her to get on and start forward and I ran to the next car and started loading on our bags. Thank you, Lord!! We made it!!

The train left the station with us onboard, as we walked from car to car. But we still couldn’t figure our which car we were in or whether the numbers were going up or down. I asked a few folks if they knew, and finally someone thought we had made it to 6 and had one more to go. There were lots of seats, so we just picked two and sat down. I stowed our bags in a luggage rack in the center and we kept our backpacks with us. Whew. Now we had almost a couple of hours before we had to change trains, and figure it out again. Fortunately, this time the train was just across the platform on the next set of tracks.

We arrived in Siena just before 2:00 where it was also raining, made our way toward “out” when we paused to figure out which way to go and a nice Italian girl pointed the way to the right lift to get to the taxi stand. We waited in line for about 30 minutes as it seemed the same four or five taxis cycled through until we got one to our hotel, the Four Points Sheraton. We planned to be there for the next three nights.

Check-in was delayed for a few minutes so the lady who ran the bar fixed us “toast” with ham and cheese. Turned out to be a ham and cheese sandwich. Delicious!

We finally got in our room which was quite warm, turned on the a/c and unpacked. Except in tourist areas restaurants typically close about 2:00 after lunch, and do not reopen until 7:00 or later. Here it was 7:30.

As we sat in our room we could hear the lady next door talking loudly – in Italian. It sounded as if she was on the phone, but it literally went on for more than two hours. Could it be a loud TV?? Finally I tapped on her door and when she answered could tell she was upset. She spoke enough English for us to communicate and explained that her father was in the hospital and she was on the phone with her mother who was very upset. She apologized for being so loud. I told her how very sorry I was for her family and asked her father’s name and told her my friend and I would pray for him. She teared up and I gave her a hug. We communicated several times over the next couple of days as he had tests and was scheduled for brain surgery on Wednesday morning. She asked at one point where we were from and I told her near Atlanta, GA. Her eyes grew huge and her mouth fell open and she said, “my name is Georgia!”. I’ve had no trouble remembering that one.

It cooled down less than 1 degree centigrade in our room, and based on past experience I suspected the hotel had not yet switched on the a/c for the season. When I checked with the front desk they confirmed, saying it was not their choice it was the law. So we let the not conditioned air blow for the next two days and occasionally opened the window.

More to come on Siena and the beauty of Tuscany, and driving in Italy. But here are a couple of pictures of the two trains, and a bit of Tuscany. It is every bit as beautiful as you can imagine.

In the meantime, if you think of it, pray for Georgia’s father and her family. I was grateful to be able to tell her that she could trust God for life, for death, for eternity, all through faith in Jesus.

We can trust Him too.