A Moment of Panic
I think I was having sort of a panic attack as I sat there next to track 3 in the train station in Rome. I had no passport, no Eurail pass, not a single Euro.
We had gotten on a train intended for Venice when I decided to check with a Trenitalia guy about the validity of our tickets.
It turns out we needed a reservation for that train AND would need to have our Eurail pass validated before using it for the first time (or pay 100 Euros).
So we hauled all our stuff off that train and I opted to wait with it while my husband sought out the ticket office and tried to get us legitimately on the next train.
As I watched the ideal train to Venice pull away, I suddenly felt all alone, Euroless, and undocumented.
As the minutes ticked away and he didn't return and I realized we were in jeopardy of missing the next train to Venice, I started to feel panicky.
What if he had gotten mugged? What if he had had a medical emergency? What if he had just disappeared (sometimes the theme of European thrillers)? More likely, what if he had forgotten where I was sitting?
My feelings were alternating between fear and anger at being abandoned when he finally appeared. We're now leaving from track 8, he said.
So we schlepped all our stuff over to track 8, car 12 (which seemed to be about a mile down the track), and went through the task of finding our seats and space for our luggage.
We're finally under way as I look out to see the sun shining on the Italian countryside. I now feel legitimate once again as I touch my passport. My panic has been replaced by a feeling of regret that we're inside a train for 4 hours on the first nice day of the trip.
We had gotten on a train intended for Venice when I decided to check with a Trenitalia guy about the validity of our tickets.
It turns out we needed a reservation for that train AND would need to have our Eurail pass validated before using it for the first time (or pay 100 Euros).
So we hauled all our stuff off that train and I opted to wait with it while my husband sought out the ticket office and tried to get us legitimately on the next train.
As I watched the ideal train to Venice pull away, I suddenly felt all alone, Euroless, and undocumented.
As the minutes ticked away and he didn't return and I realized we were in jeopardy of missing the next train to Venice, I started to feel panicky.
What if he had gotten mugged? What if he had had a medical emergency? What if he had just disappeared (sometimes the theme of European thrillers)? More likely, what if he had forgotten where I was sitting?
My feelings were alternating between fear and anger at being abandoned when he finally appeared. We're now leaving from track 8, he said.
So we schlepped all our stuff over to track 8, car 12 (which seemed to be about a mile down the track), and went through the task of finding our seats and space for our luggage.
We're finally under way as I look out to see the sun shining on the Italian countryside. I now feel legitimate once again as I touch my passport. My panic has been replaced by a feeling of regret that we're inside a train for 4 hours on the first nice day of the trip.
posted by Barbara at 11:37 AM
2 Comments:
I actually did have a moment of panic much like yours. While in Paris, years ago, I got pickpocketed and they took off with my credit cards, driver's license, cash AND my passport.
Talk about feeling vulnerable.
I always panic about the passport (and the phone and my keys). I have to check them fairly regularly on a trip, even if I "know" they're in my possession. I don't know how you managed.
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