a. I like to be pampered with someone to carry my luggage and I prefer a private van or bus.
b. Public transportation is part of the fun. Let's take trains and other forms of public transportation to save money and mingle with the locals.
Signore and Signori, (drum roll) may I have your attention, please.
Public transportation trounced private by a resounding 78% to 22%.
THANK-YOU, SCHOOL AMICI. You have restored my faith in the inherent sensibility of human beings.
My twenty-nine year-old daughter is stationed at the Naval base in Sicily and this spring we took a trip from Genova, through France, to Barcelona. I was surprised that she wanted to drive. "What about the train?" I tried to suggest. But there were places she wanted to see in the mountains. We wouldn't be as flexible.
Before we had even left Genova, Maryl realized the error of her American ways when she went to get her car and it was gone. The rest of that day was spent figuring out how to find the lot where it had been towed on the other side of a very big, confusing city. Turns out her great spot on the street was a bus stop.
Add to that the cost of gas ($8 a gallon), tolls (some as high as $15 and there were a lot of them), parking, insurance, and the stress, getting around by car in Europe is no bargain, even if you don't have to rent.
But the cost of the convenience of going exactly where you want, exactly when you want really hit home when I had to fly down to Napoli to meet Michele unexpectedly. Since I couldn't chance missing the flight, I decided to take a cab to the airport. It was a ten minute ride and cost me 25 Euros ($40). On my return, the hotel was only three kilometers from the airport, but the driver I asked said the price was still the same. In Genova, rides to and from the airport are apparently "one size fits all."
There was no rush. I could take my time. And so I decided to save my money and practice speaking Italian.
"C'e' un autobus per Pegli?" I asked.
They told me the bus number. They told me where to stand. They showed me where to buy the ticket.
It took a few minutes longer and I had to transfer to a train, ride two stops, and then walk a half a mile with my rolly-bag and back pack. I got lost once when I turned the wrong direction out of the train station and had to ask again, "Dov'e' l'albergo Castello?". But I got there.
The cost? One and a half euros. Needless to say, the next day when it was time to leave for the airport, I wheeled my suitcase out the door and walked right back up the hill to the train station. In twenty-four hours on those two trips alone, I saved about 70 bucks. Now multiply that by three weeks. Taking public transportation is one of the easiest ways I know to make travel more affordable so I can go more often and stay longer.
But the real advantage was not monetary. It was the young bus driver who slowly and patiently explained the sciopero (one of Itay's ubiquitous strikes) of public utility workers that was blocking the street that he would normally take when he dropped me off in front of the train station. "Binario due," he repeated several times, pointing in the direction of the right track. When I hopped on his bus the next morning he remembered me and wanted to know all about where I was from and what I was doing in his country.
The mind-blowing bonus of public transportation is the power of knowing you've learned enough to finally get around by yourself and understand what people are saying, to live like a real Italian and not have to pay a driver or a teacher (or a husband) to hold your hand - and that, my Amici friends, is absolutely priceless.
