Bus and Train Travel Plans
I want to offer some words of advice, not that I am wise or anything, but just a ‘heads-up’ if you will, when it comes to trying to plan side-trips while in Italy. Don’t. Yes, don’t. The way it works in our house is if David thought of it, it’s not feasible. If Marianne thinks of it, it’s right. That’s the Gods’ honest truth of it all.
I wanted to plan a day trip to Pisa, San Gimignano, and Volterra that would be inexpensive. We could use public transportation, train and bus, and have a day where we could sight see at our own pace. Italian public transportation, although prone to an occasional strike, is known for its dependability. Just read your Rick Steves. We wouldn’t have to pay anyone to do this; we could just pay for the rides. My reasoning was these three towns lie to the south and west of Firenze. The tower at Pisa, a tourist ‘Mecca’, is seen best early in the day and later in the afternoon, when the crowds are thinnest. San Gimignano is well attended all the time and sleepy Volterra is the unexpected treasure.
We could get on the electrio Bus B at 7:00 AM, after grabbing a quick cappuccino outside the apartment in Piazza Cimatori. Then we catch a train at the SMN station and head to Pisa by, 7:30 AM. The train takes an hour--that’s 8:30 AM. The bus terminal in Pisa is right outside the train station and, after buying a ticket at the Tobacci Shop right there, the bus ride to the Field of Miracles is 20 minutes-- 9:00 AM. It might take an hour to see the leaning tower (making sure I had a pass and reserved time to climb it), look inside the Duomo and baptistery, back on the bus to the train station, another 20—10:30 AM tops. Waiting for the next train would take the most time.
Marianne and I could also take the train to Poggiobonsi (an industrial town) to the south and west from Florence and be there by 11 AM; then transfer to a bus heading to San Gimignano (the medieval Manhattan) that takes only 30 minutes. We could be there by noon, sight see, eat, and get on the bus bound for Volterra by 3 PM. By 4 PM reposo will be ending and we can check out the town, Etruscan museums, and alabaster shops until ‘wine-time’ and have a something to eat a La Vena di Vino (a great looking enoteca). We would be back on the bus by 7 PM and at the bus station in Firenze by 8:30 PM. From there we find our electrio Bus B and ride it back to Piazza Cimatori and our apartment. It would be easy, except, that we would have to be at the train and bus stations on time, and catch the right buses and trains. But I think we could do that. Right?
“Oh no!” declared Marianne, “We could never do that. We would need a private driver-guide. There will be none of this ‘doing it on our own’ thing!
We get in someone’s car and they drive us as close to wherever as they can.
Then that guide will tell us everything we need to know. Then we’ll get back in the car and they will drive back to our apartment in Firenze.” And she, again, left no room for discussion. So after being told to plan the outings and don’t spend too much money, she changed the rules and starts adding on the expenses. Have you seen how much private tours cost?!
Negotiations were reaching ‘critical mass’ and deadlock and it was only the end of October. I guessed it was better just to work on the budget for the trip and figure out how much what we already had were committed to would cost. It took a couple of weekends, but it was Marianne who asked that we work Friday evening into the schedule to do ‘the deed’. Of course that passed by too, so I decided to start the process.
Best Laid Plans
This was the designated weekend to ‘ratchet-down’ the plans for Italy and see how much this ‘puppy’ was going to set us back, financially. That should have sent up red flags and flares from the start. I spent most of Saturday and Sunday working on computer to get costs, finding a hotel in Rome, and trying to make some sense of our hopes for the Firenze week. Then we would align it with reality. Coupled with yard duties, pad duties, music duties and church it made for a full weekend. The high point was finding a room in Rome to crash in for two nights after we touch down, June 11; the low—not talking to Marianne for about 5 hours.
I had been looking into convents, but found that they cost just as much as a hotel, that there are less amenities and that many have curfews. Not that we will be having a problem with being in the building and sleeping by a certain time. A 9 hour plane trip can wipe anybody out. Jet-lag always hits me hard. I remember my first 13 hour fight to Columbia in college, I slept for 24 hours straight, except a meal, and when a Columbian business man, who was staying in the next door, brought two giggling women to his room sometime during the day—or night.
As I started to really price things out, leaving blanks where meals should be, tallying up the euros and then converting to US dollars, I saw how much this two-week trip was going to ‘cut-into’ my retirement account. Boh (enough)! I was fine with that until Sunday evening when Marianne started looking at airline tickets. She couldn’t find anything through Expedia, Orbits, etc. for under $1,600 a piece! In the proceeding months I was seeing $900 and $1,000, but suddenly, at the end of October, 8 months before the flight, it was going to cost us $3,200 to $4,000 to just get to Italy and back! That was the straw that broke the camels back; suddenly Marianne lost all hope of ever being able to go.
“So, how much money did you think we are going to spend?!” Marianne whipped at me after net-surfing, “How much did YOU think we were going to spend!?”
“Maybe, $12,000?”
“It’s going to be more like $20,000!!”
I envisioned a cliff and falling off of it. There was no way out except to fall. Could I let this go so easily? So I blurted out, “Then we aren’t going. Let’s stop all this pretending and just say it. We aren’t going. Thanks to the greed of the airline companies, we won’t be getting our dream trip.”
“Only rich people can travel! Yelled Marianne. “I am sorry I ever found Fernando and Rosetta’s website.” “It is totally my fault. I shouldn’t have ever gotten us into this.”
Marianne went into a depression that lasted to the next morning. When she gets like that, I get angry at first, and then I also succumb to depression. Going to bed at 8:30 is not my idea of fun, but if you can’t talk to one another, and everything just gets worse and worse, it’s time to go ‘read’. Really, I worn the hell out of the TV remote trying to find something to watch.
Anyway, Marianne came to bed around 11 and we made up. The next morning she was still letting things effect her and we started the day off on a sour note. I left confused and hurt and I am sure she was equally wounded. She called at work later on and said how sorry she was, and how it wasn’t fair that she does this to me before I go to work. I told her it was my fault, and that I was sorry. It went back and forth for a few turns of the ’blame game’ and we ended the call with sincere “I love you”s and her promise to make this trip work!
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