My addendum to The Chiro...

He glosses over the tough day we had, but dinner was indeed magical.

What he neglects to write is that the shuttle bus that we took from the airport to the train station was 70 minutes of stop and go nightmare on my already-queasy stomach. I hadn't eaten since the airport snacks in Newark (salad, white rice and a sprite) and though we had plenty of food with us, none of it was particularly appealing. After the ordeal on the bus, we finally walked into the crazy bustle of Milano Centrale. I was immediately on guard against pickpockets and scammers (I'd heard horrid stories), at one point hiding behind The Chiro as a wrinkly old Rom woman motioned to us that an unseen baby needed to eat, will we pay?

I replied, "No, grazie." and moved away from her.

We bought out tickets to vernazza (on 18 hours of no sleep) and a panino formaggio, scaldata (hot cheese sandwich), which tasted like heaven.

It take us 20 minutes to figure out which platform our train is supposed to leave from, and another 10, me using the broken Italian that I know, to verify that the train we've boarded is indeed the correct one.

We exit at Genova (as far all is well) and dash to information to find out which platform the train to Sestri Levante will be leaving from. No one speaks any English, so of course all the communicating is done by me in whatever Italian words I can muster. The woman tells me that the next train will come at 12:42 at subterranean station 1 and the Chiro and I head downstairs to wait.

At 12:37, a train comes rumbling through, and though I've never known an Italian train to be early, I ask the conductor if "Questé il treno per Sestri Levante?" this is the train for Sestri Levante. He shakes his head no and says he thinks it's "il prossimo," the next one.

I thank him and a few minutes later, the monitor next to the track displays the words "Sestri Lev." We think nothing of it then, when the train that was SUPPOSED to arrive at 12:42 rolls in at 12:47, and we climb on.

It was a beautiful ride, along the rolling hills and bright turquoise water, and we enjoy the sights, but when the ride that was SUPPOSED to put us in Sesti Levante 30 minutes into the trip turns into 45 minutes (with no Sestri in sight), I begin to fret. After an hour, I steel up my nerves and ask a girl a few years younger than us (in Italian) how far to Sestri Levante and she informs me that this particular train does not GO to Sestri. She asks where we're heading and after we tell her Vernazza, she and a few other passengers have a rapid discussion in Italian, which I can not follow, about the best way for us to get to our intended destination.

The heated debate concludes with the woman telling us to get off "dopo il prossimo" after the next stop.

This finds us in Rapallo, a perfectly charming village, had we intended to go there. However, we've been without sleep for more than 24 hours, without a change of clothing in 56, and without a real meal (shared panino not-withstanding) in 60 hours. I burst into tears, the stress of it all too much for me to cope with in my exhausted state. The Chiro is great at calming me down and after we figure out the new train to take to Vernazza, we buy 2 new train tickets and sit down in a bar for some limonata pelligrinos. I, however, desperately need to use the bathroom and none have any toilet seats, toilet paper or soap for washing.

The tears start flowing again until I run into some nice german women on their way out of the restroom, who take pity on me and give me a package of kleenex. Bless those women! I am SO glad I ran into them.