On my return from Paris, I had to take the same amount of transportation as I did on the way there. In case you forgot that included a car, train, bus, plane, bus, metro, and a short walk. Just in reverse order.
Not fun.
Not fun with a bum knee.
And especially not fun with a bum knee and a rolly suitcase whose handle decided to break at the airport forcing you to act like a complete fool attempting to fix said handle but to no avail.
I blame the breaking of the handle on the lady working the RyanAir check-in desk. She made me put my suitcase on the scale to check its weight, so naturally I put the handle down first.
Afterwards, the handle just refused to extend. I even asked the guy working security to fix it. He couldn't. He proceeded to ask a BIG guy working security to fix it. He couldn't.
I continued attempting to fix it until I boarded the plane. This consisted of me hitting the top of the suitcase, and wiggling and jerking the handle upward. All while passersby stared at the silly American girl who walked with a limp.
On the flight to Treviso, Italy, I slept. Upon arrival, I asked a security guard where the bus stop to the train station was. He had a disappointing look on his face as he checked his watch. You see, my flight arrived at 9:30 at night. The security guard was afraid the last bus had left already, but he pointed in the general direction and said 100 meters Line 6. I have no idea what 100 meters is, so I just kept walking in the direction he pointed until I saw Line 6 bus stop. As I was waiting for this bus, other people leaving the airport kept walking past the Line 6 bus stop. I was a bit worried I was at the wrong one.
Maybe I hadn't walked 100 meters yet.
Maybe there were two Line 6 bus stops.
Maybe I was going to miss the bus.
Maybe it had already came.
It was dark outside and I was all alone.
Finally, a couple stopped at the Line 6 bus stop. I felt so relieved that I was no longer alone and was able to confirm that it was indeed the correct stop. My first set of Angels had arrived to help me out.
After I had been waiting roughly twenty minutes, the bus arrived. We were the only three to board the bus and the only three on the bus excluding the driver. I had to purchase my ticket from the driver which meant a higher price. He told me the amount in Italian to which I looked at my new bus stop friends for the English translation. I paid the two and a half Euros and scanned my ticket.
We arrived at the Treviso train station not long after and there was literally no one around. I proceeded to the automated machine to purchase my train ticket like I have done numerous times in the past, except this time the machine told me my ticket was non-saleable. Considering it was now close to 10:30 at night, there was no ticket office open. My bus stop friends tried helping me, but they couldn't figure it out either. They had no idea why it said that. The guy was kind enough to check his phone to see which platform I should be waiting at and told me I would have to buy a ticket onboard, which of course would be more expensive.
I hobbled down the stairs and back up another set of stairs, all while carrying my suitcase whose handle still refused to extend, to reach my platform. A cheery lady walked past me and spoke to me in Italian. I replied that I speak English, and so she began speaking with me in English! She had said, "It's cold out!" in Italian. She was the third Angel sent from God to look after me. She was the sweetest woman. I told her that I was an Au Pair from America. She told me she was from Germany but now lived in Italy with her three children. She had moved here for love, but that Italian men aren't what they seem at first. Then she said, "I have a gift for you, if you will accept it." She pulled out a book and told me that it was written by her son. It was a new book and had just been published. I thanked her for the gift as it was such a kind gesture, even though the book is in Italian. I then explained my ticket situation to her, so she made me go back to the automated machine so she could try to figure it out. This of course meant, going back down the stairs and up another set and repeating it on the return.
She didn't know what the deal with the ticket was either, so when we boarded the train she took me to the first car. She explained the issue with the ticket machine to the attendant. She spoke all in Italian, but I could understand she was telling her that I tried to purchase a ticket, but wasn't allowed. The attendant then printed me off a ticket to my final destination for only five and a half Euro. She didn't charge the extra fee because this sweet Angel, Martina, had explained to her my situation. Martina told me that I had five stops before I needed to exit and get on my connecting train. Martina exited at stop four. Before she left she told me I could find her son on Twitter.
When the train arrived at the fifth stop, I had knots in my stomach. The train arrived ten minutes late, which left me negative five minutes to get on my connecting train. I asked the attendant if I had missed the train. She said that I probably had and no more trains would leave until morning so it would be best to call someone. I kindly thanked her and continued down the stairs to exit the platform. It was now near 11pm. I looked on the television screen for the times of other trains, and there was one that hadn't left yet. I climbed the stairs to that platform where my fourth Angel was awaiting. I asked her where that train was headed. It was not in my direction, but she walked down the stairs with me to look at the schedule for the next train to Grisignano di Zocco.
We were the only ones in the tunnel, which connects all the platforms, when a drunk man entered. We were occupied looking at the time table, so we didn't notice him until we heard what sounded like a gunshot. We were instantly filled with fear as we looked up to see what was going on. This lady, my fourth angel of the night, shielded me from this man and repeated "It's okay. It's okay." The man picked up the rock or whatever it was he had thrown and made direct eye contact with me. His eyes were crazy. I will never forget that look. I thought he was going to throw the object at us, but he walked past and proceeded to climb the stairs to a platform.
I was terrified after this experience and called Marco as quickly as possible. He didn't quite understand what I was saying though. Luckily this lady was so kind, I handed the phone to her so she could explain to him in Italian that I needed a ride. She got off the phone and told me, "He said for you to wait inside and he will be here in 40-45 minutes. He will call when he arrives." I couldn't have thanked this sweet lady enough. Unfortunately, I didn't even catch her name.
I am so grateful God placed those four people in my path that night. I'm not sure I would've survived that dreadful night without them.
I walked to the inside of the train station to wait for Marco's arrival.
I was exhausted.
I was terrified.
I sat by myself in the corner of the station and cried.
Forty-Five minutes later,my fifth Angel arrived. Marco called and said, "You can exit. I am outside."
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