My European Trip - Part 3

The one day I got to spend in London proved excellent, with a dramatic win that paved Juve's path forward in the European cup, but it was time to fly to Italy. We got a ride from the Inn to Heathrow, and went through security. Once again, my baggage is stopped and I have to explain certain liquids in my backpack. Such a waste of time.

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But that was the least of the issues. As it turns out, the flight from Heathrow to Rome would be delayed by about two hours. That was mainly problematic since we had to catch a connecting flight from Rome to Turin, and if we arrived too late to Rome, we wouldn't be able to get to Turin that day, which was a major problem, because I had a train ticket for the next morning from Turin to Monte Carlo. I had to make it.

In the meantime, I tweeted the tagline of my unpublished Dystopian novel in the #pitmad event from my phone in the airport, and I bought a sandwich, which turned out to be disgusting. I ate just enough of it to keep the hunger in check and tossed the rest. I just wanted to get on the damn flight already.

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Finally we fly from London to Rome. A short enough flight. When we land, I realize I'm in luck; There was an employee there ready to march us very quickly toward the terminal where the Turin flight is departing from. We were gonna make it. So we march through the Rome airport for about 7-8 minutes until we finally get to the gate. We get out, take a shuttle bus for two minutes right to the foot of the plane. As we ascend the stairs, the pilot, from his seat, waves us in. Cute.

An hour's flight and we land in Turin. As we're landing, my ears begin to ache rather forcefully. I whimper in silence and pray it's just an air pressure thing. As the pain subsided upon landing, I'm relieved to find out that's the case.

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We pick up our bags in the terminal (well... they did. I travel light.) and go outside. Two Italian guys are there, ready to drive us to the hotel. We get in two separate vans. I ride shotgun. Cool.

We talk to the driver a little bit. He's a Juve fan as well. We get to the hotel. It's called hotel Diplomatic, on Via Cernaia street in central Turin. It's your standard 3-star hotel. By that point, I didn't have the energy to go out on the town. Not that night. I have to get some sleep. Long day tomorrow. Going to Monte Carlo. Finally.

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I wake up in the morning. It's around 8:30 AM. Still got time. The train leaves at 10:40. I take a shower, set up the smaller backpack for my Monte Carlo trip and go downstairs to get some hotel breakfast. It's a decent spread. Scrambled eggs, sausages, Coffee, orange juice, bread, vegetables, cheese. I have my fill, go back upstairs, take my bag and go back down to the lobby. I ask the receptionist for a cab to Porta Nuova station, where my train is departing from. A 10-Euro ride. Whatever.

I get there about 25 minutes before my train leaves. I get on it and sit in first class. That wasn't my seat, but the train was relatively empty, so it's fine. The ticket guy doesn't mind. There's even a USB plug to charge my phone. A nice touch.

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The train I'm on gets to Genoa. From there, I have to change trains to Monte Carlo. I settle in and the ride begins. I take a selfie.

Monte Carlo, here I come.

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Stay tuned for Part 4.