Transportation Woes and Lessons Learned

Yesterday, since I didn’t have any classes, I decided to get out of town! This is actually the first time I’ve left Florence since I arrived on January 29. My destination? Cortona, home of Under the Tuscan Sun. But before I tell you about my visit to Cortona, I must tell you about what I learned yesterday about trains and buses in Italy. Oh, there is so much to learn!

My journey began at the Florence train station, Stazione di Santa Maria Novella. The station itself is worth a visit, even if you’re not hopping on a train or bus. It was designed in 1935 by a group of Tuscan artists from the Functionalist school. Their goal was to create a building that reflected its purpose, and they succeeded in this endeavor. The Santa Maria Novella Station is a crowded, bustling place, filled with travelers, commuters, and, of course, a few unsavory characters as is the norm in most transportation hubs worldwide.

Immediately upon entering, I approached the ticket counter and bought a ticket for the 8:09 a.m. train to Camucia-Cortona. So far, so good. I then went out into the main station where the trains arrive and depart and found 16 tracks, most with a sleek Trenitalia trains ready to take off. I checked the electronic board to find which track my train would be leaving from, but I couldn’t find Camucia-Cortona listed. Fortunately, I found an information desk and was told that I needed to get on the train bound for Foligno, which evidently is the end of the line. This makes sense, but I had no idea that this is what I was supposed to look for. And now this train was on Track 16, at the other end of the station, and it was leaving in about 2 minutes. I said “Grazie,” and I took off! The doors were already closed, save for one at the very front of the train. A man started yelling at me, “Vai, vai!” (Go, Go!) And believe me, I went! And, as luck would have it, I made it. Seconds later the train took off.

I settled into a seat – wide, luxurious, clean, wonderful. I thought to myself, “This must be the first-class section,” and I had purchased a second-class seat. I decided to just stay to see what happened. A short time later, a porter came by checking tickets. I pulled mine out, figuring that I was going to be asked to leave this section to go back to some cattle car, but no, I was actually in a second-class seat. Heaven! But, wait, things were still not quite right. You see, I hadn’t validated my ticket back in Florence. Evidently, there are yellow validation machines. Before boarding a train, you’re supposed to put your ticket in for validation; not doing so can result in on-board fines. However, I explained that this was my first time on the train, and the porter was forgiving. He scribbled something on my ticket that forgave me this offense. “Never again,” I promised! Finally, I was able to sit back and enjoy the rest of the ride.

About an hour and a half later, I heard the announcement that we were approaching the Camucia station. The train slowed, I stood up and waited for a door to open to let me out, ala BART, but nothing happened. In fact, it didn’t even feel like we really stopped at a station. It turns out that the doors are actually between cars, and you have to manually open it yourself. A nice gentleman, who spoke English well, realized that I had missed my station, and he recommended that I get off at the next station and catch a train back. Right when we arrived at that station, another train was stopped across the tracks and was ready to leave. This man on my train yelled across in Italian about “la signora” and made that train wait for me! I hopped on and, in no time at all, was back at the Camucia station.

Now all I had to do was catch a bus to Cortona. I arrived in Camucia around 9:45, only to learn that the next bus to Cortona wasn’t until 10:53. No problem! I just walked into town, found a café, and had a cappuccino. I then walked back to the train station. When the bus arrived, I hopped on, euro in hand, ready to pay my fare. The bus driver saw my euro and said, “Eye yi yi.” Yes, I had messed up again! You see, you can’t pay your fare on board the bus itself as you can in the U.S. Instead, you must purchase a bus ticket in a tabacchi (tobacco shop) prior to boarding. Who would have ever thought? The driver let me on anyway. Then, and I can’t believe this happened, he actually drove into town, pulled over in front of a tabacchi, and told me he would wait while I went in and bought my ticket. (Something tells me a MUNI driver would never do something so nice.) So here we are, a bus full of people, and I have to get off to buy my ticket. I’ve never run so fast! And when I returned, now with my ticket in hand, no one on the bus seemed to mind. If this happened in the U.S., I can’t imagine the dirty looks and comments I would have gotten!

The good news is that I learned my lessons from these blunders, and the bus ride back to Camucia and the train ride back to Florence went flawlessly!