Mlano Train

Again we wander to the station, ready to make the swap from French to Italian. But there is something going on. There's a lot more security than usual and officials everywhere. The station is bursting with people looking animated and enthusiastic, eager almost.

But of course, the Grand Prix is on in Monaco, starting today, and all these people are catching our train. And guess what, there are no seat allocations!
It doesn't end in tears though, we get the cases on, but there are no luggage racks on this train, so we pack them against the door on the side opposite the platform side, so they should be safe. John stands with them to make sure, while I go off to find a seat. The train stops at probably about 4 or 5 stations, all going well, next stop Monaco, where most people on this packed train will get off. Train stops.....the platform is on the other side..... that would be the side our bags are stacked in front of the doors!

'Quelle horreur', no, wait we're in Italy now, or almost....'Che orrore'

Without the slightest hint of panic, John moves one big red suitcase away from the door and rips the other one on top of it, so people can get out. They are very forgiving and tolerant, with the exception of the extremely fat American trying to get on before everybody else had got off.

'Well will ya look at that, they jus' keep comin', they jus' keep comin'. When will they eva stop? And it would help if those big bags weren't in the way! I don't know if she thought John was English speaking or not. Fact was, she didn't care how offensive she was being, she just wanted to get on the train and sit down. She eventually did and didn't shut up the whole journey. Rabbit, rabbit, rabbit.

It is a fact of train travel that there will always be no lifts, broken escalators and lots of steps. I often feel for older ladies on their own, who look alarmingly at the flights of stairs they have to negotiate with their cases, it's not easy. It is also a fact that our suitcases, though not necessarily always red, will always be big cases, because we come from such a long way away and for an extended time. It is another fact, that I'm quite short and trudging up the stairs with these bulky items is challenging, though not impossible. John runs his up the steps to come back and get mine.

Standing there on my own, I look up to see if he's coming, and a young man approaches me and asks if I would like a hand. Oh God, I've become one of those older ladies people feel for......