Mike and I were relieved to be on the train to Livorno; however, it had a secret up its sleeve and we didn't know it until too late. We were relaxing, waiting stop after stop, and then started to get suspicious. We should have seen the sign for Livorno by now... Worried, Mike marched to the front of the train to ask the conductor when we would arrive at our destination. About five minutes later I saw Mike running back in a panic.
"GET OFF!" He shouted.
We rushed off the train and watched it leave.
"What's wrong?!" I asked.
"He said we were supposed to get off at Pisa and then take another train to Livorno," Mike said.
Wait, the ticket says "Livorno," the train's marquee said "Livorno," but it wasn't supposed to take us to damn Livorno?!
Oy.
We didn't know where we were, the next train wouldn't arrive until much later, and we were low on cash. The station was empty and the ticket window was closed, so we had no one around to help us...except for a cabbie outside.
"Porto Livorno?" We asked a lady who could barely speak English.
"Si, si," she said.
"How long?" I pointed to my wrist to emulate a watch.
"Eeeehh, forty/forty-five-a minute," she said with little confidence. We had roughly that much time before the ship closed off to late passengers.
What else could we do? We hopped in the cab and asked her to stop at a bank on the way.
For being in a "hurry," she drove about 70 KPH (kilometers per hour) on the freeway. We drove by nearly every stop we had seen on the train.
"What time-a be there?" She asked.
"Six-thirty," we told her. It was around 5:50 PM.
She shook her head, stressed. "Mama mia! There are-a two porto; which?"
Good question.
She told us the two in her bippity-boppity tongue and we guessed one of them.
"It is-a that one?" She asked.
"We're not sure," Mike replied.
She didn't understand that response, so I shrugged my shoulders from the back seat. Body language became very useful on this trip since it's something all humans have in common.
"Mama miaaa!" She said again.
6:25 PM came around and we made it to a port.
"That's the ship!" Mike said.
I looked out the window. "Mike, that's Carnival, not Norwegian," I said, disappointed.
"Which-a ship?" The woman said, confused.
"Norwegian," we told her.
"Nor-a...?"
Mike wrote it out for her. He spelled it as "Norwegain."
"No, no, no--" I began.
"Oooh, Nor-veh-jun!" She said.
Phew.
Then next to the Carnival ship we saw Norwegian. We drove closer and noticed it wasn't Norwegian "Spirit."
Oh no... 6:28 PM.
"HELP-A ME!" The lady panicked.
Mike and I freaked out as well. We saw a man working a booth and asked him how to get to the other port. He told us and we made our way to the other side, doing our best to memorize his directions.
And boy, was that a route! 6:37 PM came around and we started to lose hope. We began warming up to the idea of meeting the ship in Rome, which was the next scheduled excursion. A very expensive one.
But then...we saw the right ship. We sped toward it. 6:38, and the ramp was still open. Waving our hands out the windows to signal our arrival to the crew, we hoped they would let us on. They saw us and weren't in any hurry to pull up the ramp. Thaaaaank goodness.
We got out of the cab and thanked the woman profusely. The fare, however... 200 euros.
"Porto Livorno?" We asked a lady who could barely speak English.
"Si, si," she said.
"How long?" I pointed to my wrist to emulate a watch.
"Eeeehh, forty/forty-five-a minute," she said with little confidence. We had roughly that much time before the ship closed off to late passengers.
What else could we do? We hopped in the cab and asked her to stop at a bank on the way.
For being in a "hurry," she drove about 70 KPH (kilometers per hour) on the freeway. We drove by nearly every stop we had seen on the train.
"What time-a be there?" She asked.
"Six-thirty," we told her. It was around 5:50 PM.
She shook her head, stressed. "Mama mia! There are-a two porto; which?"
Good question.
She told us the two in her bippity-boppity tongue and we guessed one of them.
"It is-a that one?" She asked.
"We're not sure," Mike replied.
She didn't understand that response, so I shrugged my shoulders from the back seat. Body language became very useful on this trip since it's something all humans have in common."Mama miaaa!" She said again.
6:25 PM came around and we made it to a port.
"That's the ship!" Mike said.
I looked out the window. "Mike, that's Carnival, not Norwegian," I said, disappointed.
"Which-a ship?" The woman said, confused.
"Norwegian," we told her.
"Nor-a...?"
Mike wrote it out for her. He spelled it as "Norwegain."
"No, no, no--" I began.
"Oooh, Nor-veh-jun!" She said.
Phew.
Then next to the Carnival ship we saw Norwegian. We drove closer and noticed it wasn't Norwegian "Spirit."
Oh no... 6:28 PM.
"HELP-A ME!" The lady panicked.
Mike and I freaked out as well. We saw a man working a booth and asked him how to get to the other port. He told us and we made our way to the other side, doing our best to memorize his directions.
And boy, was that a route! 6:37 PM came around and we started to lose hope. We began warming up to the idea of meeting the ship in Rome, which was the next scheduled excursion. A very expensive one.
But then...we saw the right ship. We sped toward it. 6:38, and the ramp was still open. Waving our hands out the windows to signal our arrival to the crew, we hoped they would let us on. They saw us and weren't in any hurry to pull up the ramp. Thaaaaank goodness.We got out of the cab and thanked the woman profusely. The fare, however... 200 euros.
