Here was the itinerary: Madrid - Barcelona - Tarifa - Interlaken. Easy, right? We learned the hard way that Europe is a lot bigger than the map in our travel book would imply.
We assumed it would take a day to get from southern Spain to Switzerland, but we hadn't accounted for delayed trains and having to take the scenic route. After our harrowed escape from the surfer frat hostel, a day trip to Morocco and a mad dash to the train station, we thought the worst was behind us. We were prepared for a night of sleep, regardless of the less-than-spacious sleeper room outfitted with two rows of bunk beds, stacked three beds high. It had been an exhausting adventure of a day!
Do the math – three girls, six beds…
Roommates in hostels and sleeper trains alike had not been too much of a problem. That is, until we arrived, sweating and slightly out of breath, to our train accommodations. We were “greeted” by three surly dudes who looked like they had just missed the 80s punk scene and were still pissed off about it. Our quick hellos were met with undeterminable grunts, so we stowed our stuff and then fled the tiny, hot room already stinking of man funk to the dinner car. Over ham sandwiches, which is apparently all they have on trains in Europe, K1 entertained me with her top 10 list of the trip so far, and K2 delighted us with her artistic prowess:
Despite little sleep that night, we had some reprieve with a quick visit in Madrid during the downtime between our next departing train. From what I saw, it’s a gorgeous city that deserves more than a few hours! I’ll put it on my list for a more thorough visit some day. Back on the train, we entertained ourselves with dreams of Switzerland and a few rounds of MASH (yup, middle-school style). A slow train through France put a damper on those Swiss dreams though, as we learned that due to delays, we had missed our connecting train to Interlaken. K2 would have made her high school French teacher proud with her conversation skills – I, on the other hand, sat there dumbly while a French teenager behind us rolled her eyes.
The only option we had was to take the scenic route through southern France, a major detour from the route we had planned. The countryside was beautiful though, which almost made my numb butt cheeks worth it. Almost. We arrived in Geneva late at night and realized we could go no further. Not one smidgeon of a second on another train or one of us would have a meltdown – to be honest, probably all of us.
I think we remedied the situation the best way possible. We treated ourselves to a semi-fancy hotel room, hot showers, a pizza and a bottle of wine and were amazed at how much better we felt. Sometimes good friends and a good night’s sleep are all you need.
And now we are yet again on another train, only this time Interlaken is so much closer.
xo,
L
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