We had to pay a fee on top of our eurail pass to get a couchette on the overnight train to Messina, Sicily. After much frantic running around by the conductor to ensure eeryine had sheets, pillows and water, we crawled into bed. Soon the rhythmic clack of the tracks had us asleep. At some stage the gentle rattle of the train ceased and a gentle pitch and roll began, with the dull groan of large diesel engines in the background.
A knock on our door – a wakeup call and the return of our tickets, which were taken from us last night. Looking out the window, we could see that the train had been shunted into a ship and we were now pulling into port in Messina, Sicily. The train backed out of the hold as if were a perfectly normal thing to do. How many places in the world load trains full of sleeping passengers into ships for water crossings? (And when will Berlusconi build a bridge?)
I’m not quite sure what the emergency evacuation plan for this one involves…
Early morning arrival in Messina, we waited for our boat connection to Lipari. In the local coffee bar where we stationed ourselves we were joined by two dishevelled men who proceeded to spend what looked like their life savings on the poker machines right behind us. Fortunately my sinuses were still blocked but Martina suffered from the odor of them. (Somehow she often manages to attract the most gruesome, malodorous spectacles to her immediate vicinity – I suppose that includes me.) We didn’t last long here – the men were in it for the long run. They were dressed for a winter war in the Balkans, and their odour suggested they might have even survived one.
Waiting to board the night train to Sicily at Roma Termini station;
A beautiful sunset at Termini;
Marti tries to avoid the odor of the men playing the pokies in Messina.
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