Rapallo – May 29, 2023
May 31st, 2023 by rallyadmin
A nice euro breakfast: coldcuts, cheese and Italians. Delivered to the room. A quick coffee and down to the street to look for a taxi. The taxi that brought us to this little hotel told us that there are two taxi stands just up the street at the piazza.
We drag the bags out to the street and right out the door up to the piazza. There’s only one taxi and when I walk over to him he waves me off. We take a position at the taxi stand sign and wait for the next taxi. About 2 minutes later the first taxi drives up and asks us where we are going. “To the Centrale railway station.” “Okay, get in.” There are some things I just don’t understand.
It’s a short 10 minute drive to the station. We get out of the taxi just about where we got in one yesterday, pay the driver and head into the cavernous station, looking for signs pointing to the trains and for a ticket counter. I look at the departure board and the next train for the Malpensa airport is in 10 minutes at 9:55. It’s 9:45 now and I have still to fight with the automatic ticket machine.
The ticket machine seems to know that we are close to missing the train and mercifully spits out a couple of tickets and we’re off to the races. Up the inclined moving floor, into the train platform area, check the departure board. Our train is leaving in 5 minutes on track 2. We are at track 14. Scramble through the crowd and up the platform to the train which about as far away from track 14 as you can get.
Hustle down the platform expecting to see the train leave without us. But fate smiles on us and we make the train, park the bags and find 2 open seats. Then, for some reason, the train doesn’t leave for another 10 minutes. Mussolini of the “trains will run on time” fame would be rolling in his grave.
If we had missed the train, there was another in 30 minutes but the tickets that we had just purchased (liberated from the ticket kiosk) would have been useless. The train finally does leave and 50 minutes later uneventfully arrives at the airport. Now the fun really begins.
The good news is that the train platform at the airport isn’t very far from the area where the rental car counters reside. I leave Barbara with the bags and head out to find the Drivalia counter. Avis, Hertz, Sixt, EuroCar, Budget, even Thrifty. But no Drivalia. I eventually find them at the end of the rental counters, hidden away with no visible sign.
There are three agents and only one has a customer. Of the remaining two, one is studiously doing some paperwork and the other seems to be unable to lift his head enough to see me standing at the counter. He finally notices me and simply says, “Driver’s license, passport and credit card.” Well, I wasn’t expecting to develop a lasting relationship but…
He hands me a form to fill out which I do and hand back. He corrects a couple of things and hands it back to me for more info. I fill in the missing info and hand it back. Then the interminable period where all rental car counter employees spend the next 20 minutes type and calling on the phone. I don’t ever understand what takes every rental car employee so long.
Then suddenly, he hands me the keys and contract and rattles off a long sentence telling me where the rental cars are. Then he goes back to whatever he was doing when I arrived at the counter.
Of course, I don’t really understand his instructions for finding the rental car so we wander about and then stop at another counter where a very nice young lady takes the time to tell the confused old man in excellent English how to find the rental car area. We find the area and the contract says that the car is in spot 167 which we can’t find.
More proof that people have a natural tendency to help old people who look lost and confused. a Drivalia employee finds us, takes the keys and starts looking for the car by pressing the unlock button on the remote fob. No joy.
Now he’s searching for the car by matching the car registration number of the car key tag (after checking the contract to make sure that they match which makes me think that this might not be such a rare occurrence.) Then there it is. The fob doesn’t work but the key, the plate and the contract match. We’re outta here. Next stop: Genoa (or Genova for you Italian purists and anyone who doesn’t want to be confused by signs on the autostrada.)
Obi-wan
