There was no night train from to Venice. That was the first wrench in the works. There was a day train that leaves quite early, arriving in Venice around noon. The train that goes back to Austria, the second leg of our planned trip, leaving Venice at quarter to three. If we’d accepted this plan, we would have two hours in Venice. The alternative was to go on the 1am train, giving us all 12 hours in Venice, but with no sleeper from Venice to Austria. No dice, we said, and went back to the drawing board.
More research turned up the convenient fact that there actually is a night train from Rome to Venice, and after some clicking around and calling the travel agent in Orbitello, we booked the train from Rome. All okay, except that the travel agent was unable to book the train from Venice to Austria. For about 12 hours, it looked like we would be trusting our luck and jumping on the train in Venice, ticketless. The alternative was again the late train, no sleeper, arriving in Austria at dawn. No dice.
More research turned up nothing. Nada. Zilch. We could not book the tickets online, the husband could not get a booking from Austria, we were without a way out of Venice. We would either buy a ticket in the Venice station, or to just get on the train and buy one from the conductor, crying if need be. Someone would take pity on these two dark haired women. Maybe we would sit on our luggage in the hallway. Maybe we would be stuck with the midnight train. Maybe, worst case, we would end up being extorted a small fortune for a hotel room.
The irony of this situation was not wasted on me. I had wanted for years to go to Venice and now, I would be in Venice with no way to get out again!
In the morning we drove to Orbitello to pick up the tickets for our night train. We’re in a four person sleeper car, ladies only, thank you. While we were at the travel agent, we asked again – is there no way to book the Venice to Austria section of the trip? No problem, said the agent, and promptly issues us two reserved window seats on the exact train we wanted, the afternoon express to Bruck an der Mur.
There is no explaining it, though it is tempting to say this: This is Italy.