Coastal Craziness

Way back on August 1, after spending all of 1-1/2 days back in Zürich since returning from the U.S. (just long enough for Hobbes to reacquaint himself with our smells), we boarded a train that Friday morning for a seven-hour trip through the Alps and down into Italy. Destination: the Adriatic Sea.

The Australian/American (Philadelphia) couple who first opened the friend floodgates for us at Europameister--Steph and he ride the same commuter train to the same office complex--invited us with a group of eight unknowns to the beach resort town of Rimini, Italy, for the weekend. Steph and I, still jet-lagged and generally travel weary, were slightly regretting our positive RSVP several weeks prior, generally grumbling about the 14 total train-hours and staying in a cheapo beach hostel (not our usual highbrow style) during the coming three days with a group of basic strangers. A work colleague of Steph's had characterized Rimini as a tourist trap for Germans, and blog followers may remember my generally mixed feelings on Italy from my first-ever trip in March. But far from being homebodies and willing to take chances to meet people, we dug down for a little extra social energy and set out. Funny how those decisions always seem to pay off.

We half-accidentally bumped into two group members--another Australian girl and American (Iowa) girl--on our train and chatted for most of the trip; it's easy to kill lots of time learning about everyone's background & situation and comparing notes on Switzerland. I absorbed the rather parched countryside views as our Swiss train passed through the famous Emilia-Romagna region's gourmet trifecta towns of Parma (prosciutto), Reggio (Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese) and Modena (balsamic vinegar) before switching trains in sweltering Bologna. We spent the 45 minute layover sampling some tasty panini-type sandwiches before boarding...the Italian Nightmare Train.

The final planned 70 minute ride seemed to last 7 hours itself. On a packed, crummy old undulating train with broken air-conditioning and windows that barely cracked, the relentless baking sun and humidity were stifling. The journey began with an hour's motionless delay. My lightweight shirt and drawers were soaked through with perspiration--with actual damp dark spots like spilling water on one's self. Quite lovely, but I certainly wasn't alone. At some point, things became comically uncomfortable; we just laughed. Ultimately we arrived in Rimini, deciphered the bus system (not nearly so organized Switzerland's but then, whose is?) and cruised in a somewhat better-ventilated bus down the town's long main strip to the hotel.

The tiny modest hostel room, also sans-AC, met our low expectations with a combo bathroom/shower that indiscriminantly sprayed water all over the sink, toilet and aging bidet (?). We walked the short distance to the beach and rendezvous'ed with the previously-arrived full group around 6pm, also enjoying a short beachside jaunt through the warm salty waves. The all-Zürich-based group featured two Londoners, two Scots, a Canadian, and one Swiss in addition to the already familiar double-Australian/double-American combo; all single (one dating couple) and mostly younger by several or more years; nobody had known each other before moving to Zürich anywhere from three years to nine months ago.

To make a long weekend story short, everyone was extremely friendly (keeping with my theory that not many ex-pats are duds) and we had a blast dining, drinking, dancing and beach clubbing until way too late both nights and relaxing in typical laid-back beach town fashion during the day. The beach was surprisingly large and uncrowded, full of Italians with hardly a German in sight. After only a day of unwinding, the hostel room seemed perfectably serviceable--it is a beach town after all, yes, not a global finance hub? Nearly every local was happy and friendly, food was inexpensive and occasionally delicious, our companions were fully entertaining and we felt right at home. My previously somewhat hard stance on Italy softened appreciably after a totally enjoyable weekend and I can say (gasp!) that I cautiously look forward to returning in the future.

Just to make us appreciate Switzerland all that much more, however, the entire Italy-based train ride home lacked AC and we fidgeted variously (I quite hungover, although Steph not surprisingly had behaved much more responsibly), uncomfortable under a constant slight film of perspiration for the full seven hours. I even unbuttoned five buttons and left my chest fairly exposed the entire trip. How's that for embracing the local culture? Doesn't seem so silly to me now.


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