Europe 4. you don’t know nothing

day by day, train by train: the story of our European adventure

As Kaila and I didn’t really sleep all night, feeling like a slightly over-proud and very under-successful martyr, I continued into the next day fuelled by a sickly chocolate oozing pastry (or two), meaning that I felt an inconvenient concoction of ill and fatigue on a very uncomfortable train to Pisa.

But I wasn’t going to get away with it that easily. To make the experience a total displeasure, we encountered a bitch-talian ticket lady who complained about the way we filled in our passes and told us, quite ironically, that ‘you don’t know nothing’.

ah now! that’s a double negative. so really we know everything


After collapsing off the train on this little detour, the heavens opened and the rain came a-tumbling down and we had to battle through literally the worst thunderstorm ever in my entire life.

As we all jogged along with our bags and boobs bopping up and down, with every inch of bare skin soaked to the core, I couldn’t quite shake off the looming lack of luck blessed to our experience so far.

Verging on hysterics (hilarity or despair, I really couldn’t tell), we aimlessly (or sightlessly, on my part, as my glasses became mini whirlpools clouded by rain and probably tears) sprinted through the mediocre city, trying to find a Laundrette to cleanse our clothes of potential bedbugs.

eat your heart out, leaning tower of Pisa


Despite our recent trials and tiredness, our three hours in an Italian laundrette turned out to be one of the highlights so far. We even got a little lunch from down the road and exchanged awkward but warming smiles with the infrequent customers.

if anyone ever needs a laundrette in Pisa, lava & ascuiga is the place for you

With all of our clothes sealed tightly in bin bags, we finally got back on track and headed to Kaila’s hometown of Lerici, hopeful with the idea of a bed and a good twelve hours sleep.

One easy(?!) train and bus ride later, we made it to Lerici and made ourselves at home in the harbour side apartment which was incomprehensibly beautiful (given our previous accommodation of a train/Somalian refugee station).


Mouths wide open in a satisfactory disbelief, or maybe just from consistent yawning, we felt instinctively that this was the end of our troubled times with travelling, all tests passed and happy hearts.

Fan turned up high, showered, cleaned and not believing that we had actually made it this far, we fell asleep…not to the rhythm of a lucid light, but rather to the sound of an Italian TV game show (which seemed as consciously comical as Mitchell and Webb’s very own Numberwang).

buona notte


Memory sparks:

  • Madhub

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