Wrong train

As it happened, our train didn't leave at 4:30 from the central station. First, we find out that it left at 4:07. So we get to the central station with ten minutes to spare instead of thirty. But wait, what's this? There are no listed international trains at central station. I go to bother an off duty ticket agent. Turns out, trains to France leave from a different station entirely.

We make a break for the taxi stand, and I shout at the driver in my panic. No need to shout, he says. But didn't you read your ticket? he asks. After this rocky start, he warms up to us. You're like gypsies, he says. Nah, I reply, but he insists. Now I realize that he was right. We each have a heavy pack and 2 random bags stuffed with plastic bottles, scarves and things.

The taxi driver explained that there are maybe 6 stations in Milan, with two that are major. I told him that we are on honeymoon, and had just come from the mountains. Then I tipped him a euro on a 7 euro fare and he was happy.

In the end, we're on the train. C is happily reading his book, and I'm decompressing.

I can't wait to be able to speak French again. Italian is definitely trickier!