The Train Station

We may have made a poor decision in Verona, but we survived and that is what is important. On Thursday, after our six-hour stint in Venice, we headed to Verona. The trained rolled into Verona around 7:30 and at this point I was starving, so we went and got some pizza. Exciting! Good pizza, but now what? Verona seemed pretty much closed by 8 o’clock. A little disappointing, but we figured there must be somewhere around the city that has some pubs. We strapped on the backpacks and embarked on a hunt for a pub. One would think that would be an easy task in Europe. After a mile and a half of frustration, we found the main center of the town. There were some pubs there, so we chilled out and had a couple refreshing pints. After about two hours of relaxation, we decided that we should head back to the train station and just hangout there.

As we were heading back we ran into some Americans from Bradley University, a relatively small school in Illinois, I think. It was their last night in Verona after studying abroad and they were going to head to some other pubs. Being that we had no place to sleep for the night, we stayed with them for a while and hung-out at another bar. At about 1 a.m. they had to go back home and we had a train at 5:22 train to Bolzano to catch; we decided to hike back to the train station and stay there until our train arrives in 4 hours.

Well, we found ourselves back at the station at about 2 and we quickly realized that we were not the only people who were going to stay at the train station tonight. Every homeless person, drug-dealer, and downright sketchy person in Verona was going to be spending the night at Porto Nuevo, the train station. It sounds like some sort of beach side resort. For a homeless person, maybe, but for two recent college graduates from the states, a nightmare. We headed up to the terminal and found a bench to sit on. Once we sat down, it hit us that we had been up for about 20 hours and visited three cities today and that we were both exhausted. As a result, we decided that one of us would sleep and the other would stay awake and watch our lives-possessions. Good idea, right? Absolutely not! After locking my backpack to my arm, I fell asleep and Jonathan crashed right after me.

I woke up about thirty minutes later and found Jonathan sleeping. I pretty much freaked out; I figured someone would have at least stolen something from me. Maybe my laptop, iPod, shoes, or maybe my trusty Titleist Visor. I guess I don’t trust people enough, but nothing was stolen and at this point I decided that there would be no more sleeping until I got onto the train on two hours. It is funny how I thought everyone else sleeping in the train station was going to steal my stuff. They were doing the exact same thing as Jonathan and I, all we all wanted was a place to stay for a couple of hours. The homeless man may have thought I was going to steal his jar of spare change or his loaf of bread that he saved up days for. Despite being scared during our stay in the train I think we both experienced something that people all around the world go through everyday and realized that we take even our 12-person hostel room for granted.

From 3:30 onward I stayed up and read my book as Jonathan got some rest. The train eventually arrived and we hopped on it 30 minutes before we were going to depart and fell asleep until we arrived in Bolzano at 7:22 in the morning. We went to directly to our hotel. Our hotel stay was all setup by a business partner of my dad’s, Stefan Pan, and it was one of the nicest hotels I have ever stayed in. In a matter of two hours we went from sleeping in a train station to sleeping in the nicest hotel in Bolzano, Italy. Luckily, the trilingual Sweetheart at the front desk let us check in and we headed to the room for some much needed sleep.

Later in the day, we met up with Mr. Pan and got a tour of their apple strudel factory by his brother, Peter Pan, who in 50 years has mastered the arts of Kendo, Cycling, and Apple picking. Surprisingly, the tour was very interesting and it gave me a sense of how much work it takes for a food product to be produced in mass quantities. Following the tour, we had dinner with Stefan and his children at a restaurant that was situated up in the mountains and looked over Bolzano. The food was exceptional and I felt like I was going to explode after eating entirely too much. It was a good feeling.

We are heading to Interlaken, Switzerland were we have a hostel to stay in, so Mom and Mrs. Moore, don’t worry. We will not endanger our lives for the sake of saving 25 Euros at least for another two nights.

-Brendan