The taxi.

The trip to the conference in Genova was pretty memorable... I landed in Milan, went by bus from the airport to the train station, then by taxi to the hotel, stayed the night, then by taxi back to the station and then by train to Genova. So, I arrive at Genova feeling pretty pleased with myself - I figure I've beaten the system having made it all the way from Philadelphia to Genova despite not speaking a word of Italian!

Anyway I was about to hop in a taxi when I figured it would be a good idea to check a map first to see how far away the hotel was. So I buy a map and discover that the street where the hotel is supposed to be doesn't seem to exist in Genova. Now I'm a little bit concerned but, not to worry - there's an information counter.

The guy doesn't speak much English but I have the address for the hotel so I can just point to it - he says "Ah, you want train to Genova Nervi" (actually what I really wanted was for the hotel to be in Genova like it was supposed to be but, having traveled for a day and a half, one more train journey didn't seem like such a big deal). So, after several canned Italian phrases from the guidebook and much pointing I know which train to catch so I ask him how many stops there are between Genova and Genova Nervi and all he can say is "many stops" so I ask how do I know when I've arrived and he says "train arrives 17:38" (actually he wrote the 17:38 bit down) but that seemed OK - even I can read a watch.

So I'm waiting at the station and I'm waiting and I'm waiting and finally the train arrives - ten minutes late. Now I know that if it were on time the journey should take 19 mins but now will it still be the same time or will they speed up on the way to make up lost time? There's no one to ask so I start reading the signs of the stations that we stop at along the way. After the third station it suddenly dawns on me that the first three stations all had exactly the same names - either Italians are stranger than I thought or I've been reading the wrong signs! Anyway I finally figure out that its the blue signs with the white lettering rather than the black signs with yellow lettering and manage to find the right stop. Now, by this time there was hardly anyone left on the train, the sun had set, and I'm the only person to get off the train.

I walked through the station (this only took about three steps) to find myself conveniently facing the taxi stand. Unfortunately the taxi stand is a rather delapidated old sign that's leaning at about a 45 degree angle, there's not a car in sight and the sun set an hour ago. However all is not lost because there's a phone number on the sign and a phone booth.

So, I figure out how the telephone works (no mean feat since Italian phone instructions consist of copious quantities of Italian and no pictures), dial the number, and carefully read out the appropriate phrase to ask for a taxi to which comes the reply "pronto pronto" which was not encouraging because I hadn't yet said where I was. Anyway I finally make her understand and a taxi duly arrives.

I hop in the taxi and point to the address of the hotel - he shakes his head - I point to the address of the hotel again and he looks all confused but he starts the car and we drive forward about five metres and he stops, looks around, drives forward another five metres, looks at the address, drives forward two metres, stops, and points out the left window of the taxi - its the hotel - it was bloody 12 yards from the station. Then he points to the meter - that 12 yard taxi ride cost me 10000 lire.