Day 9: Train to Vienna
We expected this to be an entirely uneventful day. After all we were just catching a train to Vienna where we had a hotel booked. We were completely familiar with the subway and the Munich station now. What could go wrong! Well as it turns out we were in for more adventure.
We got up very early as Mrs. I Expect Everything To Go Wrong always wants to be to the station long before the train leaves. We had paid for reservations and I didn’t want to lose them. So while the morning air was still crisp, we left our beloved Hotel Grunwald and walked to the subway hauling suitcases and backpacks. When we were almost there we were met by a woman who looked at our suitcases, saw we were close to the station and got a very concerned look on her face. “No train, no train!” she said. I stood in shock. What did she mean, no train!! Yes, it was Saturday morning, but surely there were people who needed to get to Munich on weekends. How could the subway not be running! We kept trying to talk to her, but her English was very limited. We all shortly realized that we were not going to be able to understand each other and she went on with a frustrated face that she could not make us understand.
I’ll admit, I was worried sick. What would we do if there was no train. We were far out of Munich and it would surely cost a fortune to take a taxi. I was so relieved to arrive at the station platform and find at least 8 other people waiting. Ken asked a guy (happened to be the same guy who had helped us another day) if the train was running and he said yes, and we relaxed. We waited and waited and no train came.
Again, the good God was watching out for us. On the platform, there happened to be a young German woman who spoke excellent English. There was an Australian couple waiting there too and they started asking her about the train. I went over to listen. She assured us that there would be a train--but on the weekends, they sort of run as they please. They are often late. So we all relaxed again and waited. And waited. Suddenly there was an announcement. Our German angel told us that apparently the train was NOT coming. “You mean, not all day?” I asked in astonishment. “Apparently not,” she said. I was becoming vastly frightened, not knowing what we would do.
Now I have to tell you that this is a rural station. There are no elevators to the platform. You have to haul your suitcases down a steep flight of steps and then back up another. I had come down with a really sore throat the day before in Salzburg and was feeling quite ill, so Ken had taken over the two suitcases as well as his backpack. It was no easy feat to go up and down those stairs for him. So off we went, sick at heart, down the steps, up the steps. Just as we got to the top, there was another announcement. Our German angel said, “Oh wait. Now it appears the train is coming after all.” Smiles all around.
Off we all trooped, up and down stairs. Ken was looking a bit frazzled. We got to the platform and stood there. A train whizzed by on the wrong side. We waited. Another announcement.. German Angel says, “Well, sorry everyone, but they are saying our train won’t come after all!”
I was beyond upset. “I don’t understand this!” I blurted out. “Surely there are people in Aubing who work in Munich even on weekends. How can here not be a train.”
“Well, of course there are,” she said. “But they probably knew about the strike and took other forms of transportation.”
So there it was. We had run into one of the famous European train strikes.
“What are we going to do,!” I cried. “We have a train to catch in Munich. How will we get there!”
German Angel said “Oh we can do this. We’ll just catch the bus to Pasing (yes the famous Pasing again) and the trains will run from there.”
She walked us all to the bus stop. I asked how much it would cost. “Oh the buses are free,” she said. And sure enough a few minutes later a bus came, we all climbed on board and off we went to Pasing. We arrived there, and our German Angel disappeared without us getting a chance to thank her. But the Australian couple knew the way to the train station and yelled for us to follow them. We did, and to our great relief, the train DID come and we got to Munich without incident. Further incident I should say. We had a great time on the train chatting with the Australians who happened to be going to Salzburg as we had the day before. Turned out they had been staying at the same hotel we were and we all agreed that it was one of the nicest places ever. Mrs. Australian asked what time our train was and I said 9:15. “Ours is at 9:14” she said. We were all a little worried about missing our connection still, but German Angel had said she thought we would be fine and as it turned out all our worry was for naught--we arrived in Munich in plenty of time.
We found our train and boarded. Fortunately they post the train numbers as well as the destinations as ours never said Vienna. It said Budapest by way of Salzburg. If I hadn’t known the train number, we would never have known what train to board.
After we got on, I noticed that I had been wrong about the time our train was supposed to leave--it was 9:14, not 9:15. And this train was going to Salzburg. I laughed and told Ken that I bet our Australian friends were on it somewhere, and sure enough at Salzburg, Ken saw them pass by on the platform.
Yesterday, I said I didn’t care for the Mozart Balls, but Ken did. While we traveled today, Ken had his bag of balls right at the top of his daypack. He kept reaching in and getting another one. Suddenly he turned to me and asked me if I had taken the bag. I said certainly not, that I was not feeling well and the last thing I wanted was a Mozart Ball. “Well, they are gone,” he said in disbelief. I shrugged. Figured they were there somewhere and basically forgot about it.
I really was feeling ill. As I said I started coming down with a sore throat the day before. Ken had spent almost an hour running all over Salzburg trying to find Excedrin for me (For some strange reason, if I take an Excedrin early on when getting a sore throat, it seems to keep me from getting ill). Poor guy was sent from one place to another while I stayed at the station watching the bags. He was finally told that since it was after 5 p.m. they could not be purchased. Apparently in Europe (at least in Austria) you have to buy them from the pharmacist and he had gone home at 5. “I know it seems strange to you,” the clerk told Ken. “I know that in America you can get them anywhere, but here we just can’t do it.”
So in spite of Ken’s very husbandly efforts, I had not been able to get the Excedrin. I was feeling really ill, but felt I should eat something as I hadn’t had much the day before. We had purchased those lovely Austrian pastries for me, and Ken handed me one. I ate a little, but it just didn’t set right, so I stopped eating it. After awhile the swaying of the train started making me sick to my stomach and I was frantically trying the entire rest of the way to avoid an international incident by making a mess in the train.
We finally reached Vienna, and again, I was able to see the hand of God in our plans. For every other hotel booking, we had had to walk and hunt before we found the hotel. Here in Vienna, the hotel was attached to the train station! How wonderful was that! I simply could NOT have done the walk/hunt thing. In fact I was so sick, I wasn’t sure I would be able to make it until Ken got us checked into the room. Finally we were in what was a really nice room, and I collapsed into the bed and slept the rest of the day away.
Ken however, kept up his search for the Mozart Balls. He had hunted all over the train before we left it. The bag was simply not to be found. He thinks someone took them, but I don’t know how that would be possible. I never left my seat and who would reach under seats to steal a bag of Mozart Balls anyway??? But Ken was still somewhat convinced that I had sneaked them out while he was out of his seat and hidden them as a joke. He took advantage of my collapsed state to search my suitcase and backpack. Ha Ha Ken--I didn’t have them! Told you so!
He went out and bought another bag.
End of Day 9 No Photos
No comments:
Post a Comment