How nice is Nice!

Pandemonium. Sheer pandemonium. I probably could have fallen apart 10 times over at this point, but leaving Erik to do the dirty work wouldn’t go unnoticed. We’ve been traveling since FRIDAY. It all started on our ferry from Crete to Pireaus (Athens). All of Europe is in a tizzy. 16,000 displaced (and counting) all hording to the ferries and boats. Normally Erik and I get to travel in an elevated style because most trains and ferries are vacant. But, because it seemed that the greater half of Europe was stranded and all had to be anywhere but where they were, we have been fighting our way to the top since 3 p.m. on Friday. I’m talking elbows sharpened, eyes slanted with anger, exasperated sighs, and ready feet. Most of the people traveling with us were angry, and with some reason. There are not huge ash clouds, the sky isn’t a drab grey, and the danger that has put all planes on the ground is not immediately evident. We arrived in Athens at 5 a.m. and weren’t allowed to check in until 10 a.m. I was already on a short string from the whole Aquafresh thing, so I wasn’t exactly in the mood to sight see. We had to be up at 5 a.m. the next morning for our train out of Athens to Pireaus. Erik handed me the alarm clock, completely exhausted, ‘you take it, I’m so exhausted I don’t think I’ll hear it.’

I’m a nervous nelly. The sheer IDEA that Erik might sleep through it was enough to make me think, ’yes! give it to me! I will hear it!’ Well, it’s possible for even the highly anxious to sleep through an alarm. I rushed over to Erik’s pillow. PST! PST! Erik, we over slept. We gotta go! NOW!! We have THIRTY MINUTES to catch our train. So we ran, half asleep, entirely distressed, and completely clueless to what we were about to face. It had been all over the news that Europe was in disarray with the transportation mess, saying that many ferries were booking up days in advance and people weren’t able to buy tickets for trains any day near their desired departure. We made it to the train with 5 minutes to spare. There were two signs, Pireaus and Patras. You know what we did?!! We stood and waited for the Pireaus train- which would’ve taken us to the Athens port instead of Patras, the international port-- no,no, no!! Luckily a woman came up to us and asked us what we were waiting for. ‘Oh! The train to take us to Patras!’.. she looked at us both for a good hard moment. ‘MOVE! It’s this! It’s this!,” she said pointing to the train that was already making the beeping noise for the closing doors. So what did I do?! I moved. It was instinct. FIVE MONTHS of traveling later, and I moved on instinct.

WITHOUT MY THINGS..

I am on the train looking back at Erik and that woman who has all of my things. She had a look of total shock on her face, partially at my lunacy and partially at the weight that was now on her back. I regained my senses rushed out of the train and grabbed my things. I apologized as profusely as 15 seconds allowed, and slipped on to the train as it teetered to Patras.

Once at the ferry bus loads of people were arriving by the minute. Rerouted from Bangkok, Australia, you name it. Apparently Athens was one of the last airports to close, so people from all over Europe got to use Athena as their launching pad.

Our Eurail pass covers ferries. We normally get ‘deck seating‘, which in every other case has allowed us atleast 4 seats to sprawl out on- perfect for a half decent night sleep. However, deck really means deck when push comes to shove. With a boat to max capacity Erik and I took a long, hard stare at what the next 23 hours would entail. Two plastic benches. Outside. This would be enough to stress any sane minded individual out; add a little sleep deprivation and people all around you talking about how they are getting the first train out of Ancona and just like that!- an anxiety cocktail. Everywhere I turned wanna be-flyers were gabbing to each other. “We would NEVER normally do this! We had no other way.” “This is our first time on a ferry” “Our family is looking at it like an adventure” to “We are RUNNING to the station.” “I heard they aren’t even letting people on trains at this point. They’re all booked out.”

When it started to rain, I drew the line. We packed up our things feeling more like gypsies than ever before and scoured the inside for some carpeted ground. While this was humbling and funny all it once, I quickly realized we weren’t the only shabby deckers with this idea. It was instantly a rat race. The rain had brought us all in and the carpet was being nabbed up faster than we could find it. I spotted us a patch on floor 8, right by the stairs. I locked my bag to the wall, my purse to my bag, my purse shut, and put the strap around me. THERE. GOOD NIGHT. Another miserable evening of shallow sleep brought a bright day full of anticipation. What was going to happen? Maybe Italy was covered in volcanic dust. Maybe there were lava villages.

Nope, nothing. Clear blue skies and people ready to lose their gord. Erik and I had the good idea to line up early for disembarkment. We thought we were being clever and proactive towards the final phase, and truly considered ourselves one step ahead. HA! We were met by 100s of people who had our same exact idea. And when the boat had trouble docking and I was stuck wedged in between 250 people, their luggage, and some recycled air for over an hour, I was on the brink of a major meltdown.

How could I meltdown at the final countdown?! This was what five months of traveling had prepared me for!?! No, I will not waiver! I did not waiver!!! Not for a moment. I turned around displacing all people in a 5 ft. radius, gave Erik a kiss, and took out some long overdue elbows. The doors opened and we were swamped. I’d like to think and hope I did no internal damage, but it was elbow or be elbowed and didn’t get that far to be elbowed. I felt like it was the day after Thanksgiving and I was standing outside Wal-mart. What would happen, no one knew.

It wasn’t a lie. People were RUNNING. People who probably haven’t ran in a good 20 years. People who should’ve been running to a hospital for the stress they were putting on their hearts. Nonetheless, the entire ferry was in a final race: Your mark, get set, ANCONA TRAIN STATION. By taxi, by foot, by bus, by ordered coach bus. Erik and I chose foot. Luckily, if you’ll remember, we’d been to this port before. We knew exactly where to go. The 1.5 mile trot was absolutely exhausting. I just wanted to cry. That solves everything when the world feels too much. Just cry. However, I didn’t cry! I didn’t waiver. I ran. With all my junk, in the same clothes I’d been wearing since Friday, like a banchee out of hell.

We were in the first 5% there. We’re highly proficient with the automatic ticket machines, and used this to our advantage. No sooner than we bought our reservation to Milan 100’s of people were piling through the doors. Everyone yelling, each person with a better reason than the next to bud. We slipped aside, ready for our 12 hours of train. Eventually to Nice..

We’ve endured. We made it. The final, hardest test of all. Three days of horrendous, highly exaggerated, and deeply distressing travel. We made it through, both alive, AND content with each other. NOT ONCE did we duel. We took it as a team. Happy, triumphant, and extremely exhausted- with a proud record. Today is a day for the books. When we will awake tomorrow is a whole different matter.