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I came careering down the piste at speed and skied slap-bang into some chap who stopped right in front of me. At the time I wasn't aware that I'd broken my left collarbone... following two weeks of immense boredom I was on the verge of insanity, and so when on a trip to my local village I found myself returning to my hotel not only with the bag of apples I'd set out to buy, but also with an Interail ticket, entitling me to free carriage on virtually any train in Europe for a month...
European Tales: Interrail trip around Europe, a lengthy tale
Joseph Tame2006-06-30 17:39:54
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nerves. It was then back to the Hofbrauhaus where I soon settled in and initiated a great friendship between a completely drunk beer-bellied local and a young Italian couple on holiday. It was nearing midnight when I staggered out of there, but, determined to dance the night away I used matchsticks to keep my eyelids open and dived into a local underground club.
The next morning I was so drunk that I missed four trains to Florence, my next destination. I did actually manage to board the third train, but jumped off as it pulled out of the station (to the guards horror) when someone told me that it was heading for Venice - I'd forgotten that I had to change in Milan. The lady behind the information counter knew me quite well by lunchtime, offering to escort me to my carriage when the final train arrived.
Heading through northern Italy I was spellbound by the beautiful countryside. I wrote, 'little hills are topped with perhaps a church tower, or an old red-roofed farmhouse. Tall Poplar-style trees stand erect everywhere. The snow that is gently covering much of the land is gently melting away as we head south in the sun. Many many trees, and seemingly derelict old farm buildings dot the rolling landscape.'
It was nearing midnight when, complete with horrific hangover, I met my Japanese friend Kae at Florence station. I slept surprisingly well that night on a cold kitchen floor belonging to a friend of hers, only too happy to sleep off the effects of the beer. The following day Pisa was our destination. Standing beside the famed 828-year-old leaning tower had a similar effect upon me as standing below the Eiffel Tower - it just didn't seem real. Somehow the enormous fame that it has had robbed it of it's 'realness'. There is currently an operation underway to take 30cm off the five-metre lean that it currently has. A huge mechanical corkscrew is being used to extract clay from underneath the north side - the
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