Remember this map ...
Well, the ladies behind the glass at the train station in St. Moritz suggested we not do that ... it would have been two buses and three trains ... I was a little disappointed because I had my heart set on this route, but I had already experienced lugging my mother's and my luggage off one train, looking for the next train, moving all luggage to the next platform and getting it back on the next train, so I took their advice.
The bus ride turned out to be the most scenic bus ride I have ever been on ... and my mother enjoyed it, and as the mantra goes, that was why we were on the trip -- for my mother to have a good time.
Turns out we got to see a lot of Switzerland after all ... and it was interesting to hear the language shift from German to Italian the closer we got to the border.
The bus left us off in Chiavenna which has a little train that only goes to one other city: Colico ... where we got on another train to Milano -- and that trip was all along Lago Como ... we waved at every villa just in case George was around (just kidding), but it was gorgeous.
Milan to Venice was not nearly as scenic because we were on the fast train ... but by that time we were just ready to get to our destination.
Venice started off on a negative because my beloved bag lost its handle on the way to the water bus. Then I couldn't find the woman whose BnB we were staying at ... I was able to find the place, but the buzzer didn't work (and it didn't really matter because she was out looking for us) ... and the special global phone I got just for this portion of our trip did not have any cell service in Venice ... ah, the irony.
So, Venice, beautiful as it was started out with a distinctly sour taste.
It was the true beginning of "it's an adventure" part of our trip.
Several sweet people allowed me to use their phones to attempt to call our BnB host ... but each time they tried, the little voice on the other end said that it was a non-working phone.
As I trudged back and forth between my mother with all the luggage at the door of the BnB and the water bus stand -- I got really good at that route -- I worried about how we would recoup our prepaid hotel ... if we had to stay somewhere else ... how we could afford a hotel if we could find one ... and how this might ruin my mother's trip.
As the sun started to go down, I ducked into what seemed like a normal hotel that was on the route between our BnB and the water bus ... it turned out to be one of the more expensive hotels in the area. The man at the desk looked carefully in his reservation book (not in the computer, interestingly) when I asked him if there was a double room for the night. He looked at me and then asked what my budget was because he had only one room left.
He never told me the price.
I told him the story ... and he asked me for the sheet of paper with the phone number. He called it and got our BnB host. He explained to her that I was there...looking for her, and he told her I would wait for her there. He sensed that I was concerned that I had prepaid for a place that didn't exist or to such a flake that I couldn't find her. I never said anything about it ... I couldn't allow myself to even contemplate it aloud ...
When I told him that my mother was waiting outside the building with all of our luggage, he commanded that I go to get my mom and bring her back to the hotel to wait.
When I got to the building, the door was open and my mom was nowhere to be seen. I went up the stairs and there was our BnB host. I helped my mom get settled into the room. But I needed to go back to the hotel to thank the gentleman for helping me.
He said to me, I don't want you to have a bad impression of Venice, when I thanked him for his help.
And just like that, Venice returned to its beautiful splendor.
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