First I went to the information desk. I asked if we could get to Monaco. I think I said Monte Carlo as well, but the woman didn't seem to understand me until I said Monaco, then she said yes, no problem, a 10:40PM train would take us there. We went to the ticket window, and I stood in line to ask how much 2 tickets to Monaco were, so I knew how much cash to get out, since we were running out of Lire. It came out to about 200,000 Lire (don't worry, Lire aren't worth much - thats only 110$ or so), so I got some money, and got back in line. Just before I was going to get to the ticket window, the clerk told the person in front of me that he was closing. The person complained, and he pointed over to the next window. I had gotten the distinct impression that only this window could be used for long distance train travel, but the line for the window dispersed (except for some italians pestering the guy), and I got into the other line. When I got to the window, I said that I wanted 2 tickets to monaco, (in mostly italian), and the guy pointed to the other window. I was ready for this, and loudly whined the italian word for closed, "Chiuso" in my best accent. He turned to the other clerk, who was apparently still back there, and they jabbered a little, and he motioned that it was ok to go over there.

Not. I nod OK, walk over there, and just as I get there, the clerk drops the windowshade on me and some italians who are standing there. What the hell? They start complaining, and it is obvious that he is being pretty rude. Shit. So I get back in the other line, ready to say "Chiuso" again. Just as I get to the front of the line, I see the first window open again (perhaps now that the italians he pissed off are gone, the clerk feels safe), and so I go over there. Finally, I get some service. I buy two tickets to Monaco, and go to meet Treasa by the McDonalds, where she was getting food. As she orders, I look at the tickets. Wait a second, these are tickets to Munich? Munich isn't anywhere near Monaco! I don't understand? We look at the schedule, and sure enough the 10:40 train goes to Munich.

It seemed vaguely, faintly, remotely possible for a train from Bologna to go through Monaco to Munich, if it decided for some reason to go around the west side of Switzerland, so we weren't sure what to do. The train seemed wrong, but the ticket seller had seemed to understand the word "Monaco" just fine. Should we get on the train? We decided to go to the train track and try to find someone who spoke some english. We found a conductor for the train, and asked him if it went to Monaco. He seemed very sure that it did. I was doubtful - he acted as though he understood every word I said, but he spoke back exclusively in Italian. Still, he seemed positive that we were ok, even when I asked how a train to Munich went to Monaco. So we got on. Fortunately for us, almost all the compartments were full, so we stood in the little area at the end of a car. The train was going to start in a minute or two. Suddenly I noticed the little card in the door's window, that lists all the major destinations of the train. I pulled out my guidebook and looked at a map of Italy. This train was headed northeast, not northwest. It was not going anywhere near Monaco.

We hurridly got off. The conductor we had spoken too seemed a little pissed that we didn't believe him, but we were sure now. I tried to explain that we wanted to go to Monaco, and this train was not. Someone who spoke some english and was standing by the track talked to the conductor a bit, and after half a minute, the train left. He turned to us, and asked where we wanted to go. I said "Monaco, Monte Carlo, Nice, Cannes".

He told us that there were two Monaco's. One of them is the country we want, and the other is a town in Bavaria, and this train went there. Oops! Good thing we weren't on it. Stupid europe with its stupid towns with the same stupid names as other stupid countries. While it may seem a bit strange for people to mix up the name of a town and a country, remember that the country of Monaco has an area of about one square mile - quite possibly smaller than the town of Monaco! Just as he finished explaining this, our bag of mcdonalds food ripped at the bottom, and our drinks fell out and smashed open. Great. A perfect end to a perfect evening.

We were tired and stressed and unhappy, and didn't want to sleep until we got out of Italy, so getting a hotel was not an option. Fortunately Treasa had a wonderful idea. Rather than putting our noses back to the grindstone and trying to get tickets to where we were trying to go, we should go sit down and eat and relax. She sat with the luggage, and I went back to McD's and got us new drinks. We ate our american fast food, restored our blood sugar, and felt much much better. After this, I opened my guidebook, and suddenly realized that the funny dashed lines on the map of Italy, which I'd never really noticed before, were maps of rail lines. Aha! If the ticket agent didn't know how to get us to Monte Carlo, I knew what intermediate destination to head for to get onto the right train line (Florence, if you're curious). If I had realized that earlier, we would have just headed to Florence from Imola. I headed back to the ticket window in hopes of a refund.

I did my best stupid american act, explaining to the ticket agent, who was the same one as before, and didn't speak english, how much of an idiot I was asking tickets for Monaco when I really wanted to go to Monte Carlo in the COUNTRY of Monaco. I tried to convey the idea that I was a complete buffoon, helpless in the face of this complicated continent. He printed up a couple tickets for Monte Carlo, which cost half as much, and gave us a refund of half the difference - not bad at all. Unfortunately the train didn't leave until 3:15AM, so we had quite a wait. We searched for a power outlet, found one, and sat down. It quickly turned out to be non-functional, which was unfortunate, since there weren't any other ones anywhere to be found, except in the bathrooms. So we sat, tired, and killed time.

The only other notable thing that happened was that a strange woman came and sat down, wanting to rest on my bag. She was italian and her name was Lucrezia, and there was obviously something wrong with her life. She spoke a little english, and didn't harass us for money very much, although she did a little, and she asked Treasa for a shirt, and she kept bumming cigarettes from passersby. This was mostly odd because she didn't smoke the cigarettes, she just lit them and let them burn. I don't think I saw her puff more than a couple of times. We aren't sure what was wrong with her, but she said that she was dying ("morire") which I didn't understand at first and Treasa pretended not to. She hadn't slept for two days, and she didn't want any of our McNuggets, though she was happy to have me buy her some coffee. I eventually noticed, although it was mostly not visible because of how she sat, a large slash across her left wrist, as though she had tried to commit suicide and failed. Treasa and I both agreed that she had been on the street for perhaps a week, maybe less. We let her sit with us for a couple of hours, since she didn't really bother us, and then left, unsure what the exact nature of her problem was or if it could be helped.

Thus ends the saga. Tune in tomorrow for the results, and news of Monte Carlo, plus you get to find out what game to play instead of Punchbuggy when you are in Monaco.

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