I'm discovering that I'm a nervous traveler. Now Mary knows it, for sure, but I'm coming to realize that I get the gitters just before I board a vaporetto, or find my seat on a train or plane. I settle down once I settle down. One of my goals on this trip is to be a more relaxed traveler.
So I said goodbye to Mario this morning and dragged my bag down to the vaporetto stop in the pouring rain. There's an electronic marque outside of the stop, giving you the arrival time of the waterbuses, where they stop, all that good, useful detail stuff. So I asked a couple folks which vaporetto was quicker, the 4.1 or 5.1. They laughed and said it was all the same, they all go to the train station and you just take whichever one comes first. And there was the 4.1 and they gestured for me to hop on board, which I did, and very quickly Fondemente Nuovo was disappearing behind me and we were heading for the waterway that takes you to the Grand Canal and the train station.
After an antsy half hour, the train arrived. I checked with a conductor, made sure I was at the right train, which, of course, I was. Now, I had a second class ticket -- it only cost 4,10 Euro -- but you don't get an assigned seat. So I asked where I should sit and in English, the conductor said, "Sit anywhere. All of the seats are free." Great! I dragged my bag on board, hoisted my backpack and bag in the overhear luggage rack and sat down, to settle myself down and once the doors locked shut and the engine started running, I settled right in. See, no problems. What's there to worry about, nervous traveler?
It only takes about 30 minutes to get to Padova (or Padua) and about 10 minutes or so into the trip, a short, official looking conductor appeared at the far end of the train and began checking tickets. I noticed he had longer than expected exchanges with each passenger and he looked like he was getting frustrated as he spoke. Finally, he was getting closer to me. It turned out that almost everyone, including me, was sitting in the first class car and he was making everyone either pay an extra two Euro or move. I hear him say, "This happens all of the time. The sign on the window says First Class."
He got to me, explained yet again what was going on and I said, "La prossima carrozza" and he shook his head, "Yes, the next car."
Now, we only had about ten minutes or so to get to Padova. I figured by the time I got a seat in the next car, we'd be stopping anyway. So now I had to struggle past the conductor as he started making his way down the car punching tickets. He now had a packed carriage filled with the folks he'd just evicted from the other car.
I sat down and made small talk with the people sitting in front of me, when I realized they were speaking Spanish. Turns out, they were from Mexico City, on a whirlwind tour of Italy, on their way to Paris. It was kind of fun, switching to Spanish and we had a nice chat.
And, of course, just as the conductor was making his way to our seats, the train pulled into Padova. I waved my ticket in front of him and asked, "Padova?" and he looked disgruntled because of course he never got to validate my ticket. "Si, Padova," he frowned.
Alright. Here's where a little planning ahead paid off. I found the tourist office in the train station and picked up my Padova Card. It'll get me into the Scrovegni Chapel to see the Giotto frescoes tomorrow, and other places while I'm here, plus I get free public transportation for 48 hours, about the length of my stay. I started out feeling a bit nervous and travel weary this morning and now I was feeling pretty good. The nice signore in the office stamped my card, I found my bus, and 15 minutes later, I was chatting with Chiara, of A Casa di Chiara, the b&b where I'm staying.
Turns out Padova is a big university town. Mario and Anna's son graduated from the medical school here, and walking towards the center of the historical part of town, I noticed there were young people everywhere.
Now, I also noticed something very curious going on. There were lots of people hanging out in front of one of the buildings and some of the young men where wearing wreaths around their shoulders. Then I saw a nice looking guy with a funny purple cap and a wreath, being taunted by his friends, including a couple of guys with a big, pink plastic penis. They kept poking him with the penis and everyone was laughing. Then they formed a gauntlet, he ran through and his friends pounded him on the back, laughing. What was going on? Was this some wacky way of celebrating an upcoming marriage? So I approached one of the friends and asked. Turns out he just got his degree in medicine and this was the traditional way to celebrate the occasion. Actually, he was supposed to read a long description of his many accomplishments in school while he friends pelted him with eggs and mayonnaise. But what was going on with the pink prick? "Oh, that's part of the tradition, too. But the mayor of the town is against this, so we are doing it anyway, but we have to be careful."
Walking away, I noticed another crowd gathered around a pretty young woman wearing a funny blue hat and wreath, her face covered in blue paint, who was standing inside a big cardboard box while her friends bopped her on the head with another inflated penis. I never did find out what she had done to win this honor, but everyone was having a wickedly good time. She had such a crazed, happy, embarrassed smile, I felt happy for her, too, I think, So, on the biggest day of your life, you get to be publicly humiliated by your friends. I guess that's Northern Italian humor for you.
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