"When I get home, I'm going to work out like a fool!" ~Martin, discussing our narrow escape

Today, we made one of the biggest, stupidest collective mistakes--the worst of our journey, we hope. But let me start at the beginning...

Because of Corpus Christi holiday (the very same holiday that messed with our travel plans when Kris & I were here two years ago), we were unable to get the early morning reservations we originally wanted. People in Europe take their holidays very seriously, so the reservations on the train we wanted were completely gone. We ended up with reservations on the 12:57 train, so the morning was rather leisurely.

Rising times varied from 7:00 to 8:00. We packed and ate breakfasts ranging from gummi bears, to leftover chocolate, to dried out buns with ham and cheese, and other groceries that could be munched on while getting ready. Dishes got washed, and we checked and checked again for any belongings that may have been left in various places throughout the apartment.

Everyone was ready to leave by 9:45--a good 15 minutes before we had to leave. We all donned our backpacks and trooped down to reception, where we left our packs until we could return for them closer to our time of departure.

Because the pickings had been rather meager for breakfast, we walked to McDonald's for breakfast. Nearly all shops and restaurants were closed--not much is open on the Corpus Christi
holiday. We took our breakfast to the second floor and took our time eating it.

After we were finished, we still had some time, so Kris & Martin walked up to Westbahnhof to clarify what a later reservation that had been made included. Jolene went with them to see if she could find some entertainment for the 7 hour train ride ahead of us.

Sara, Louisa, & I hung out at McDonald's to wait for them. They returned approximately 30 minutes later having found that the original reservation agent had only given us reservations for one train for the ride from Treviso to Nice. Martin had to shell out more money for the required reservations for other legs of the journey.

We moseyed back to the hostel and picked up our big packs and headed to the subway to go to the Südbahnhof--the station that our train would depart from.

Now in the prior two days, we had purchased an 8 day subway/tram ticket that would allow us to activate 6 days at a time--one for each person. It was cheaper than buying individual passes. Therefore, we had 4 unused tickets for our trek to Südbahnhof and would need only two additional tickets to transport us all.

At some point, someone--it is uncertain who, but we won't assign blame because we all thought it was a splendid idea--pointed out that we could send 4 people to Südbahnhof and then send one person back for the other two people, thereby saving us €3.40. Beating the system--we all liked the idea and decided that is exactly what we would do.

It was decided that Martin, Kris, Sara, & Jolene would make the first journey, and Louisa & I would remain at the Westbahnhof station to wait for Martin to come and pick us back up.

We found a spot to wait, and the others set off on the U3 at 11:50-ish toward Südbahnhof. It would not be a difficult journey--take the U3 to Stephansplatz and catch the U6 to Südbahnhof.

Louisa & I sat on a bench and chatted while we waited. She began to wish for a WC, but we decided that this was not a good time for her to trot off in search of one. Around 12:20, I began to get a little antsy. "Where is Martin?" I wondered aloud.

"Oh, don't worry about it," Louisa said cheerily, digging around in her daypack, "Here, have some pretzels."

"I can't," I said, "I can't eat pretzels when I'm nervous."

She happily munched on pretzel sticks while I watched each incoming U3 train, getting more nervous by the minute.

"Why won't he come??" I asked again, beginning to get frustrated as I watched my minute hand creep toward 12:30. I belatedly realized I didn't even have Martin's international cell number.

After another train arrived with no sign of Martin, I decided that the time had come to send a text message to Kris, international rates or not! I wrote at desperate "WHERE IS MARTIN? SHOULD WE GET TICKETS AND COME? I DON'T HAVE HIS CELL NUMBER" and input Kris's cell number. I decided to wait for one final train before sending it.

As the next train arrived at12:30, I watched and was relieved to see Martin waiting at the door to jump out as soon as it arrived. He seemed a bit frustrated too at the length of time the journey had taken just to go and come right back.

On his way back, he had figured a new route with fewer stops than the one he had just taken and decided to take the U6 to the S8 in hopes that we would arrive at Südbahnhof more quickly.

We put on our large backpacks and headed for the escalator. I told Martin that he'd better take Louisa's big pack for her, and when he made motions to do just that she said, "Oh, I'm fine!"

Rather than waste time arguing with her, we got on the escalator, climbing as it went instead of just riding as we usually do. When we got to the second escalator, it wasn't working, but we took it anyway because there were less people on it than on the stairs. Behind me I heard a "Oh, dear heaven" coming from Louisa as we raced up the steps.

Fortunately, we had arrived at the U6 platform, and I again informed Martin that he really needed to take Louisa's pack. This time I insisted when she began protesting and she traded her big pack for Martin's daypack.

I sent out verbal a "Dear God, please help us make it!" A lady with a child was standing on the platform in front of us and sort of smiled at us and looked at us with mild interest upon hearing my plea. I didn't pay her any more attention as we got onto the train.

As we rode, Martin's cell phone rang. A desperate Kris was on the other end when he answered. He told her of our alternative route, and she was perturbed that we had gone that way when she had sent him a text to not go the alternative way they had discussed. He had not gotten the message. He hung up on her as we finally arrived at the stop where we wanted to catch the S8 so he could concentrate on the journey at hand.

The elevator was just arriving at the platform and rather than running to another escalator that might or might not be working, we decided to take the elevator. We crowded on with several other people, and I came almost face to face with the woman from the other platform.

"Are you trying to catch a train?" she asked.

"Yes, at Südbahnhof," I said, probably a bit desperately.

The elevator had arrived at the floor we wanted and she said, "Go straight ahead and go up and ask someone which train will take you there." She pointed the way out for us and we thanked her as we again began to run.

To my horror, we ran into an area that was full of construction and things were not clearly marked. Of course, escalators were not working, so we finally took a set of stairs up to the platform. We desperately looked at train schedules and couldn't figure a thing out.

Now I normally am more likely to try to find my way on my own, but I was a Desperate Woman on a Mission. I went to the first person available and asked her if she spoke English. She did. I asked her if the upcoming train would take us to Südbahnhof. She said it would not and that we needed to be across the tracks from where we were.

We turned and raced back down the stairs to another escalator that was not working. By this time, all the running was taking a toll, and I was looking for shortcuts. I spotted another elevator and punched the call button. It came fairly quickly and lifted us up to the platform.

Martin was certain that the platform was not in use, as it was deserted. I began to run down the platform to see what the sign read and spotted someone else there waiting for the train. About that time, a train arrived, so Martin & Louisa joined me. The exiting passengers shook their heads to Louisa's inquiry to whether they spoke English and hurried on their way.

There were no markings on the train to tell us if this particular train would take us where we wanted to go. By this time, we were under 10 minutes to departure of the train we were so desperate to catch.

Knowing that if this wasn't the correct train to Südbahnhof then we would not be catching our train, we decided to take our chances and climbed aboard. I asked the first person I saw if this train would take us to Südbahnhof, and the second angel of mercy said that it would.

We were quite relieved. The train moved very slowly and, feeling rather panicked, I asked Louisa if she was praying. "Oh, here and there," she said breezily. "Well, do it again!" I said, continuing my own desperate pleas.

Martin received another desperate call from Kris and he told her we were doing all we could. He obtained the track number from her--Track 13--and gave her a progress report. He told her to find the conductor and tell them we were almost there.

We stopped one stop away from Südbahnhof and the sweet little lady who had confirmed that we were on the correct train got off the train. Before she departed, she said in very broken English, "Next stop Südbahnhof. Two minutes."

As the train started up again, I spotted the conductor of the S8 coming down the aisle and I asked him where we should be on the train for the shortest run to the train we needed. He also could barely understand me, but Martin gathered from him that we would have to, again, go up stairs to another level.

Kris called again and Martin told her we were just getting off at Südbahnhof and snapped his phone shut as we pulled into the station. We hopped down from the train and looked right and left twice. Nothing indicated which direction we should exit so we just headed to the closest set of escalators to our left.

I can only say that God guided our steps because twice we had choices of a direction to take and we managed to take the correct direction. Martin and Louisa gained ground on me, but I ran harder than I have run in many, many years. We finally ran into the station and had to run up two long moving ramps toward where the signs said tracks 11-19 were.

I ran the length of one, but gave out in the midst of ramp two. Louisa looked back and me, and I just gave her an "I can't do it" look. I was sucking wind in huge gasps by this time and wanted only to double over gasping for breath. The thought that ran thru my mind constantly was a story Kris had told us only days ago.

Our German prof, Mr. S, told her that once one of his students was late for the train, and the only reason that the conductor held it for her was that she was running for all she was worth. I didn't think I had anything left in me to give, but as I reached the top of the ramp and spotted platform 13, I saw the train was still there. I somehow found my final reserve and began to run again.

Martin & Louisa cast another more glance at me to make sure I was still coming and sprinted toward the train. Martin later said that he didn't even have enough breath to holler "wait" to the conductors at the end of the platform, so he just waved his cell phone at them. "Schnell [quick]! Schnell!" one of them said to Martin, and he thought, "I'm schnelling as much as I can!" Martin & Louisa boarded the train ahead of me, and I gasped a "Danke" to the two conductors as I dragged my weary body on board. They issued a bewildered "Bitte" as I disappeared around the corner. Less than 10 seconds after we boarded, the train pulled out of the station.

We met some staff of some sort, who asked where we were going and Louisa told him Italy. He told us to go to the front of the train. We huffed and puffed and heaved our way from car to car toward the front of the train with me puffing the worst of us all. It seemed like the train would never end.

We finally made it to the front car of the train and there standing in the walkway outside of the compartments anxiously waiting for us were Kris, Sara, and Jolene, giggling with relief. They really didn't know if we had made the train or not. They ducked into our compartment and Louisa, Martin, & I sank into our seats.

I unceremoniously dumped my daypack into Kris's lap and my big pack into Sara's lap and just slumped there trying to breath. And then my body went into a full-blown tantrum--not unlike the fits I've seen Dad go thru when he overexerts himself.

The only way it can be described is that it felt like my throat was completely dry and when I pulled air in, it felt like something was poking me in the back of the throat. If I swallowed, it felt like my throat would surely stick together. I reflexively coughed and the cough turned into a bit of a gag. After repeating it several times, the others caught on that I was not merely issuing a dainty little cough.

Someone asked if I was going to vomit, and I rasped out an "I don't know." Fearing that I would vomit in our compartment, I was banished to the WC, which was just around the corner from where we sat. Martin led the way to make sure it was empty and I think Sara may have followed me there. I went into bathroom and proceeded to continue my episode in there. The water I had taken with me didn't seem to help much at first. Whatever had been in my stomach once upon a time must have moved on down the pike because there was nothing there to release.

After several minutes of commotion that included all of my symptoms of vomiting, Sara tapped on the door. When the tapping came again, I opened the door, and Martin & Sara were outside peering in at me.

Sara thought that maybe sucking on something might help, so once I got a teeny measure of control, I followed her back to the compartment where she gave me an allergy pill (not sure how that was supposed to help except that it was a chewable tablet) and Kris handed out a round of coughdrops.

As we were returning to the compartment, I looked out the window and at the sign on the platform where we were making our first stop. The sign said "Wien Miedling." It was the very platform that Martin, Louisa, & I had departed from not 15 minutes earlier when I had asked the girl if the train would take us to Südbahnhof. We were not impressed! If we had only known, we could have stood there in relative comfort and waited for the train that it nearly killed us trying to catch.

We settled in to our seats, but the coughing and wheezing from Martin & I continued. Martin declared that things had been knocked loose in his lungs that had been present for years. Martin was rather subdued and, when questioned, admitted that he was having pains in the center of his chest. It took us a good hour to an hour and a half to regain some semblance of general comfort, although we could feel the exertion in our lungs for hours.

Our stupidity was the topic of conversation off and on for the next 7 hours. We all agreed that in an attempt to save €3.40 (which would translate into $5.30--less than $1 per person}, we had nearly cost ourselves far more than we had saved. In fact, there is no doubt that we incurred more in international cell phone charges than we saved on those stupid subway passes. Had the three of us missed our train, we would have been forced to buy new tickets to Treviso because Kris had our EuroRail passes with her on board the train.

The ride through the Alps was absolutely beautiful. We oohed and aahed over the scenery for a while, then several of the others took a small nap. I was unable to get comfortable enough to sleep.

We arrived at the Treviso Centrale station around 8:30. We trekked to our hotel, which was approximately .6 mile from the station. We checked into our rooms and then went out to see if we could find something to eat.

We found an ice cream shop that was open, so we all had a bit, except Martin.. Nothing seemed open, so we walked back to the hotel where they told us that their kitchen was no longer open. They said that if we walked the opposite direction, there would be a restaurant that would be open. Our efforts in the opposite direction merely revealed a swank restaurant that was clearly out of our price range. We decided that we would have to end the day without an evening meal--the perfect end to an already bad day.