Exploring Gubbio

Tuesday July 1 2008

In some of these old preserved medieval towns in Europe, like Assisi and Gubbio, if you look, you can find some old historic trails that too many tourists don't seem to find and that people these days don't seem to use.

I went into the old part of the town, where the ancient walls beckoned from up high. I found a road that wound up and up, that eventually led me right up to some remains of the old walls. A barricade across the road said No passagio - and I wasn't sure if that was for cars or people, so I turned back. But, in so doing, I spied a small, barely used trail, but definitely a trail, leading up behind the old wall, and below a no-trespassing orchard. So I followed it, the way partially covered by grass and blackberry vines.



It led along behind the old city wall - its defense and sight holes still intact - for a ways before the trail became way too overgrown to attempt to pass in sandals. So I turn around, and as I backtracked, I ran my hand along the ancient walls - I always have to touch these old structures. I used to do rock work for the Forest Service - building steps and walls in the mountains... but my walls were at the most 10 feet long and 5 layers high, not 3 miles long and 2 feet thick and 40 feet high. I know what a pain in the butt it is to fetch rocks to build a small wall, from further away the higher you build. We fetched all our rocks by hand. Maybe the ancients used horses. Maybe they didn't. It was still all built by hand; at some point a human had to lift, carry, and place each single stone in the proper position - and sometimes you go through 5 or 6 rocks before one fits just right, or you have to shape one with your 5 lb hammer or geo pick or sledge hammer, and then you bust it in the process and have to start all over. And you're bound to smash a finger or toe along the way. I'm fascinated by these massive old walls and buildings, and I can feel the hard work and sweat and blood that went into everything.


There are at least 30 old centuries-old palaces and churches you can visit in Gubbio, with any number of ornate altars, tombs, preserved frescoes, and preserved saints to view. The bells clanging and bonging from the churches below the city walls at noon are an aural extravaganza.

At the other end of the town, the Ranghiasci Park rises to meet the old city walls under shady maples and oaks and chestnut trees. Above these walls runs an old aqueduct that is still, some 2000 years later, being used. I haven't figured out how to get up to that yet.

Raising Gubbio

Monday June 30 2008

I don't think Fausto has stopped moving since he dropped me off at the train station on Saturday (or, rather, since before he picked me up for the first time at the train station on Thursday before that). He drove out of the way to the Gubbio train station to pick me up again from my visit to the Marramas, in the midst of another crisis - there was some sort of weekend strike that stopped transport traffic, and it affected the transport of his stables he has to build. Now he's scrambling to get all the materials he needs, and he must use a different design. "People won't notice - the stables will still be good - but I will know it's not the best I had planned."

On the way to my room at the Park Hotel Ai Cappuccini, we stop briefly by the vet gate/endurance village area by the Roman Theatre, where a few more tents and towers have gone up over the weekend. Matteo and another young man are still busy at work there, and Fausto discusses some things with them while answering his phone - constantly his phone rings. He's constantly hopping in his car to go here and pick this up or drop that off, going there to talk with yet another person or company who is helping him with this ride. "It helps when you know many people!" Those many people include friends and family.

Then Fausto has an interview with a television station that he must change clothes and clean up for, then he has to change clothes again so he can go shoe some more horses at his stable, and then... and then...

The work never stops for a ride organizer or ride manager, and the countdown to the event never slows down.

Trapped II

Saturday-Sunday June 28-29 2008

SATURDAY:

Always an adventure, always an education, the Italian trains.

I'm headed to another little Italian town of Popoli. Three trains to get there. The first train to Ancona is 14 minutes late - and I have, on a good time schedule, 10 minutes to catch my second train. When I get to Ancona, we have made up 12 minutes - which makes me only 2 minutes late... and I jump off the first train, and run down the stairs and up the stairs to the track that has the waiting train - must be mine - but that wasn't it. The second train to Pescale Centrale is also late. Like 45 minutes later.

Hrmph - ran and got all out of breath and sweaty for nothing, and it IS very hot here.

With my second train to Pescale being 45 minutes late, that means for SURE I'll miss the third train which leaves half an hour after I would normally arrive, and that means I will have to call Adriano Marrama, who's picking me up, after I figure out which train and what new time I'll be arriving in Popoli.

The second train finally comes in all its 45-minutes-late gloriousness, we get on, and it takes about an hour to get to Pescale Centrale. We make up a lot of time. My third train leaves at 6 PM. We pull into the Pescale station at 5:59 PM. I just happen to have written down all the stops, so I know when Pescale is coming up, so I am right at the doors, ready to jump off the train - and I check ahead of time to know which doors open which direction. (I'm OK on this train - they both open).

Well. As I jump off the train, there is one other train waiting on another track, and that MUST be my train to Popoli where I'm going - right? Must be. As I start running for the stairs, the clock jumps to 6:00. Crap! I fly down the stairs, and run through the tunnel to the next track, and run, up the stairs, with my heavy suitcase and heavy backpack and computer. I run toward a door where some people are jumping onto the train. "Does this train go to Popoli?" I ask them. They shrug - it makes many stops.

I see train conductors toward the front of the train - about 5 cars down. I start running toward them, (still with all my heavy luggage, mind you) and realize I will never make it - I need to be by a door if they start to shut. The men are too far away to yell and ask. Crap! I see a schedule board and run towards it. 6 PM - that's 18:00... my ticket says the train leaves at 18:00... I see 18:06... scan the stops - Popoli is not on there... 18:13 is next... not my stops - this can't be right - crap! I'm looking at "arrivals"!

I run around to the other side of the board, see "Departures" - find 18:00 - Yes! One departs at 18:00! Popoli is listed! Leaving from track 4! I run back to this train - wait - is this track 4?? - whistle blows, doors click, I leap on - leap on, mind you, with my heavy suitcase (which is now far heavier than 17 kilos) trailing behind me, and the doors close on my suitcase and I yank it in and the train pulls out. My heart is slamming (I haven't had much exercise lately, and it's freaking hot!), and I am drenched in sweat, and I am not completely sure I am on the correct train! This was track four, but that's all I know right now.

Nevertheless, I am going somewhere, so I roll into the air conditioned car and flop down in a messy pile, and I hear the stops being announced - and yes, my stop is called, I am on the right train! Whew! Which turned out to be a good thing, I realized later - I had Adriano's number to call, but he doesn't speak a word of English, and I don't speak a word of Italian! I couldn't have told him I was catching another train and when I'd be arriving - although I did learn a very valuable - and common - word referring to Italian trains: "retirado" - late!


***.
SUNDAY:

I'm headed back to Gubbio. Three trains.

So far so good - the first one left more or less on time for Pescale, although I have a whopper of a headache, because I did not get any coffee this morning. I don't care WHAT time the next train is to the next stop of Ancona - I am not going to do anything until I have a cappuchino at the station! I have to buy my onward tickets anyway, so I will make the time for one or two.

We arrive at Pescale Centrale, and it is big enough to have a bar serving rolls and cappuchinos. Great! I have one.

Now, I need to use the WC. There is one next to the bar, and it costs E.50. So, I go to the door, put my E.50 cents in, and the green light comes on - and the door doesn't open. Huh? I push it, I pull it, I try to slide it - and the red light comes on. Finished. What the hell!? OK, I'm not trying this again until I see somebody else do it!

Instead, I go to buy a train ticket onward, (two more trains) and, no, I don't want the train that leaves in 3 minutes, I want the next one - 30 minutes later - which gives me time for using the WC and having another cappuchino! I buy my ticket, then go back to the bar/WC area, and hang around. I hope nobody notices me stalking the bathroom - I pretend I am just waiting at the cafe - and finally I see two women go to the WC. You put your money in, and when the green light comes on, you PUSH ON THE DOOR - (I swear I did that) and you go in. Fine.

I have another cappuchino, and I go to the WC. I put my E.50 in, the green light comes on, I push on the door, it opens, I enter. No problem this time! There's a second door. I push it - and - nothing! It won't open! WHAT THE HELL!? I push on the door again - NOTHING! I start to panic and try the door behind me that I just came in - NOTHING! I am trapped between doors to the bathroom - can't go in, can't go out and I've already paid E1! AHH!

Two ladies are coming to the adjacent doors to exit, and they look at me like I'm a retarded foreigner - which I am, because I CAN'T GET OUT! HELP! They pass through their doors, still looking at me funny. Well - I can either stand here till somebody else strolls along to the bathroom - and what are they going to do - pay to get through the first door and get stuck in here with me? - or I can get down on my belly and crawl under the door into the bathroom (I'm not crawling back out, because I want in the bathroom!) So, I lay my suitcase down, take off my backpack and computer, and shove them under the door, just as another woman is coming to exit the other doors, looking at me, of course, as if I'm too cheap to pay E.50 to use the WC. I crawl on my hands and knees - is this not the ultimate humiliation? into the bathroom, use it, thank you very much... then have to face going back out - through the double doors next to the ones that trapped me. Oh, help!

I take a deep breath and dive through the first one... and try the second one - and it DOES NOT OPEN!!!! I wait, think, no, this really is not happening, and I try the second door again, and this time, it opens to let me out.

After that, I deserved one more cappuchino (really had a headache now), then went to wait for, then get on, my next train.

Now, here's a few words on the Italian trains. When a train pulls into a station, you never know exactly (1) how many cars there will be, (2) where the train will come to a stop in the station (in the middle? down at this end? Closer to that end? Will I have to run?), (3) where your second class (unreserved) car will be in the scheme of things, and (4) how much time you have to stroll alongside the train looking for a car you can get on before the doors slam shut and you missed the train. Sometimes the train sits in the station for 20 minutes (late) or sometimes it's less than a minute. It's best to run as far down the train as you can, then pick a door and pile on a car, any car, and sort things out later - which I did on this train.

I ended up getting a little anxious, piling on with many other somewhat anxious people (apparently the Italians have not exactly figured out (1), (2), (3), or (4) yet either), and so, I found myself, with many other people and their luggage, between 2 reserved 2nd class cabin cars. Which meant, if I wanted to make my way down train cars to find a 2nd class coach with a seat that I paid for - it would be like climbing several Mount Everests of people and suitcases in the aisles - who also had seats in the same cars I did and saw the effort as too overwhelming. So, I just stayed in the vestibule - which was fine by me, as it was air conditioned - as did a few other travellers. It worked until the food cart came by and I had to squeeze in a corner, but other than that, it was a pleasant way to pass 1 1/2 hours by train.

The good thing about the Italian trains is - they do get you where you are going (eventually), - sometimes with a bit of extra effort. And while you might get trapped in the bathrooms, at least the bigger stations ARE a good place to get a cheap cappuchino to console yourself with - once you get untrapped from the bathrooms.

Riding With The Italian Champion!

Saturday June 28 2008

Or, Raven Rides Italy!

Here I am again, gallivanting off to another endurance family, who are welcoming me into their midst. I don't know them, and they don't know me, but Fausto has arranged it, so off I go.

After 3 train changes and a bit of adventure, I got off in the little village of Popoli - I'm not sure if you'll find that on too many maps - in the Abruzzi region (in the center) of Italy. It's in the foothills of some surrounding mountains that provide plenty of skiing in the winter, and plenty of horseback riding activities and hiking in the summer. A few people got off the train here with me, and there was only one person waiting at the station: Adriano Marrama. He didn't speak English, and my only Italian words are those that happen to be the same as the few Spanish words I know - in other words, it was hopeless. We tried and tried to communicate, but other than the weather, and scenery, it was pretty hopeless and we just laughed at each other.

Adriano's 22-year-old daughter Chiara just won the 160 km Italian Championship in Assisi a few weeks ago, on one of the 52 horses (!) in Adriano's endurance stable, I Cavalieri dell'Antera. **Author's note: There is controversy surrounding this, as I understand it: Chiara was the first to arrive at the finish but was declared to have made a mistake on course, as did several others. Chiara and some of the other riders contend that one area of the course was not marked, nor were there any officials to point the way. Simona Garatti was declared the official winner, but perhaps this is still in contention. **


Adriano took me to the Albergo (hotel) Moretto in Pratola, owned by his sister Bruna and his niece Annamaria, who welcomed me and plied me with pizza and beer - very welcome after the challenging train rides! Adriano left me there to go take care of horse business, then came back at 10 PM to pick me up and take me to dinner with daughter Chiara and her boyfriend, and daughter Marinella and her husband Jean Felice. It was a loud Saturday night crowd at the restaurant - a typical European Saturday evening dinner - and it wasn't till 11 PM that the others arrived, after a long day at a "pony endurance ride" with one of the youngsters they teach.

After a filling dinner, Adriano dropped me back at the hotel around midnight, with instructions from Chiara - be ready at 8 AM, with your riding clothes on!


Sunday June 29

Woohoo - I unpacked from the bottom of my suitcase the helmet and chaps I've lugged around for 4 weeks (and for 5 weeks, on the trip before this one) and put them on! Adriano picked me up at 9, and we were off to his I Cavalieri dell'Antera stables!

Adriano started his stable 20 years ago for trekking. Five years later when his daughter Marinella started endurance riding, it became primarily an endurance stable. Chiara did her first short endurance ride when she was 11 years old. Now, it's a very busy stable, to say the least, with, between the three of them and one groom, horse trekking (with Adriano), endurance riding and training (with Chiara), and lessons and handicapped riding (with Marinella). In November they will begin building a hotel higher up in the hills - in the middle of their olive orchards - for an agriturismi (farm-stay) accomodation, which will fit in nicely with the trekking business.

Horse pictures and paintings by children decorate the walls of the snack bar area, as do numerous endurance trophies the family has collected over the years.

Chiara and Adriano saddled up horses for 4 of us, and Paulo from Rome accompanied us on his huge Hannoverian gelding, for a ride in the Italian countryside - a first for the Raven and me!

It's easy to see why Chiara, at such a youthful age, attained the title of Italian champion. First and foremost, she cares for her horses and enjoys each of them - "they are like children. Each one is different. I love riding them all!" She's very concerned about their well-being, and very aware of the need to take the time for the development of the whole horse - muscles, bones, metabolics, and the mind, especially their mind. (The mare on which she won on at Assissi will probably have the rest of the year off to relax). You can go fast on a horse, she says, but you have to go step by step to get there. She very much respects her sister Marinella and her knowledge and horsemanship, and she aspires to be more like her!

Chiara may ride fast in races when the horse is ready, but like many other top stables around the world I've visited, she doesn't regularly train hard and fast. She knows it's good, for the body and the mind of the horse, just to go out and have an easy hack or just walk, to let the horse know it's okay to take your time and relax.

We had a lovely 90 minute ride through the rich green countryside of Italy, with my mount being a 4-year-old mare that Adriano predicts will be another Italian champion. I had to agree that this mare was pretty nice at this stage...


After the pleasant ride I had lunch at the house with the family. And when I say family lunch, I mean Family Lunch: Mom, Dad, two sisters, husband of sister, Grandma, and Auntie Marianna, who kept piling food on my plate because I'm so skinny. She wanted to fatten me up in this one meal. We had piles of fresh salad, vegetables, and fruit from the abundant garden out the front door. Marianna would spoon one helping on my plate, then another "Due?" "No! No due!" I'd say, and she'd plop the 2nd helping on my plate anywy. Of everything! I'd surrender - there was no arguing. "OK, due!" "Tre?" "No three!"

Which meant, by the end of lunch, I was so full I could hardly move from the table. They asked if I needed a nap? They would take me to the hotel to rest. Oh, no, I didn't think I needed a nap. Marianna took me back to the hotel anyway - stopping to show me a little scenic mountain canyon sanctuary on the way - and of course I fell asleep at the hotel.

Adriano returned at 5 PM and picked me up and took me back to the stables, for another ride! The weather had actually turned pleasant - instead of blazing heat, the sun was obscured behind clouds - there were even little rain showers around, and possible thunder clouds! - and there was a very nice breeze.

This time I got to ride a mare that Chiara will probably ride in Gubbio (I wanted to say, "Wait! Are you sure?!"), and I went out with Adriano and another man, on a different track, hard and soft dirt roads past rolling fields and olive orchards.
This mare was also quite nice; we walked at first, then had a good climb at a trot or canter, before coming to a paved road. We followed this into a regional park full of people walking and biking, and where there was a little bar - and we parked our horses and went and had a drink! Chin chin! We toasted. "Interval training," said Adriano - work the horses, give them a rest, (and us a beer), ride them back.


After our refreshing break, we mounted up and rode back home, walking all the way. You could tell the horses enjoyed the outing - they were willing and strong on the way out, and willing and relaxed, moving out, on the walk back. Adriano made me laugh because he was always on his cell phone - sometimes two of them! The mare was quite pleasant, as was the scenery and the cool breeze, as was riding in Italy! I told Adriano it was beautiful here, but he said in Italian - and I understood - if I thought this was pretty, I have to come back and go trekking up into the mountains - it is stunning up there. Chiara confirmed it - and confirmed I have to come back and see it!

We got back at 8:30 PM and I had dinner with the family and more friends again. This time, Mom Francisca took over the piling of my plate, and didn't take no for an answer. I think I did pick up a few pounds this weekend!

The friends took me back home to the hotel, where, after a hard day's work - two huge meals and two great horseback rides with a new family in Italy - I fell into a sound deep sleep.


Monday June 30

The Marramas put me on the train back to Gubbio in the morning - after racing all over the place looking to buy a ticket for me, then refusing payment - and all I had for a thank you, after the great rides and great hospitality, was two words, a heartfelt Thank You!

Happily, I'd see them again in two days in Gubbio at the Nations Cup.

Italy: Gubbio Endurance

Saturday June 28 2008

It's not just a love for endurance horses and riding, or his enjoyment of organizing rides, or his love of his hometown of Gubbio and his desire to share its history and beauty and show it off to the world that causes Fausto Fiorucci to go to the time, trouble, and expense of putting on an international endurance ride. It's also his passion to widen the popularity of endurance in Italy and make it more accessible to more riders, and to elevate the profile of the sport and introduce a larger public.

In 1998 his Faula Arabs stable joined an association with the city of Gubbio - hence 'Faula Arabs Gubbio' - to make Gubbio a center of excellence for endurance in Italy, and around the world. With endurance it's possible to blend sport, culture, history, and tourism together, and perhaps there is no better place in Italy than Gubbio in which to take advantage of this.

While the city of Gubbio has long been famous for its archaeological history (traces of prehistoric settlements from the Paleolithic times have been found; Gubbio was an ally of Rome as early as the 3rd century BC), its numerous well-preserved medieval churches, city walls and Roman theatre, and its festivals (Procession of the Dead Christ on Good Friday, The Race of the "Ceri" on May 15th, the "Palio della Balestra" - Crossbow Festival in May, and the biggest Christmas Tree in the World), as a recent development - since 2003 - Endurance Gubbio has developed into one of the most significant events in the city.



And it's not just another endurance race in Europe, but a CEIO Nations Cup. It's like the European or World Football Championships (by the way, Spain just won the European Football Championship on Sunday) - a cup for endurance riding nations to compete in. This is the future of endurance, Fausto believes: a way to involve more than just individual endurance competitors, by developing a strong team sport, encouraging larger national teams, and thereby providing more riders to compete against each other. Instead of one main goal each year - the European or World Endurance Championship - there are several CEIOs for which to constantly prepare and develop teams for. In addition, the Nations Cup rides "promote solidarity and dialogue between nations" - they are venues from which to share and learn from each other - and to cast an eye toward future participation of endurance as an Olympic sport.

Each country may establish a single CEIO which takes the name of the country putting it on; and at the end of the year, a final order of placing on the circuit is calculated. This year there are four CEIO Nations rides: Belgium, France, Gubbio, and Portugal; and next year England will also have one. Riders must be chosen by their federations to participate in the Nations Cup rides.

The vet gates and finish for the Gubbio Nations Cup - it's now a fixed trail, marked by permanent wooden signposts - (and the 120 km and 93 km rides) on Saturday are right beside the remains of the Roman Theatre (built in the 1st century BC to accommodate 16,000 spectators), with a splendid picturesque view of the ancient city of Gubbio spread out on the hillside above.

Faula Arabs Gubbio

Friday June 27 2008

Two gold medals, four sliver, one bronze in European and World Endurance Championships. Once Italian Champion (1997), once European team Champion (2001), once Individual European Champion (2001). One otherworldly horse - Faris Jabar. And this, after Fausto Fiorucci only began riding horses about 15 years ago, in the early 1990's. He'd been a runner, and biker, and a champion fisherman, but it wasn't till his friends said to him one day, "Come ride a 30 km ride with us," that he got on an endurance horse for the first time in his 40's. He won. And he was hooked.

Whether it was beginner's luck, or skill, or both, Fausto came across perfection early - he liked the young 3-year-old Faris Jabar ("brave rider") the first time he saw him, but it wasn't until 2 years later that he got him. He was a stallion at the time, and, Fausto shakes his head, "He was impossible." Once gelded, Faris eventually blossomed into a terrific endurance horse - nothing like him in the world, Fausto will tell you. He may be biased (who isn't about their own horse), but all those medals and the Italian championship came with Faris Jabar. When Fausto speaks of Faris, he is still, after 15 years of competing on him, amazed at what the horse can do - at his mind, at his heart, at his will, at his turn of foot. Fausto runs out of words, and it's not just because he can't find the English word, or I can't understand the Italian word. It's because Faris Jabar still leaves him speechless, shaking his head. "He has.... not just heart... but..." he gestured inside and whirling up to the heavens. "Soul," I offered. "Yes. Soul." Later he came up with another description: "He is like poetry. He is my endurance poem fantasy." When he rides Faris, he controls him with just his voice, not his legs, "OK Faris, let's go!" - although sometimes he admits he does have to use his arms to pull back on him and slow him down.

Fausto and Faris just won a 120 km race a few weeks ago - Fausto clocked the last loop at over 50 km/h - and were going to compete in the Gubbio CEIO Nations Cup on Saturday (of which Fausto is Organizer), but Fausto broke his ribs while riding another horse recently. It isn't the first time Fausto has ridden injured - he's ridden shortly after surgery on a busted ankle, and once with a torn shoulder ligament (both times, he had to be lifted on and off the horse), but this time he's a bit concerned about puncturing a lung if anything else happens.

He and his wife Laura Ombretta founded Faula Arabs in 1992, shortly after Fausto began riding endurance. Through the years, with his steady success, and his dedicated observation and careful studying of the horse, Fausto developed his own approach to endurance, which he offers in an endurance school, with emphasis on not one particular thing, but all the details in the whole picture. "You can have 1000 things, and if one thing is wrong, the whole thing is no good." If a horse has a problem, you have to think ahead to possible consequences, not just look at the one little problem. In his endurance school, he shares his experiences in conditioning, balanced riding, proper equipment, feeding, and shoeing. Nine years ago he developed his own patented Horsetec horseshoes, (Faris was his first guinea pig), which all the horses in his stable now use.

Fausto seems to some horsemen to have the secret to fixing lameness and soreness problems; but his secret is: "There is no secret." It's common sense. You look at the horse, you think about what is going on with the horse. "If you have one small problem with the foot and you try to correct it this way, you affect the horse here (the knee), or maybe here (the shoulder). You have to think about everything."

Fausto currently has 9 horses ("That's enough!") to ride, several brothers to Faris Jabar, and an able young horseman, Matteo, to assist. "He's my future!" says Fausto.


You can see Fausto's obvious appreciation for not only his horses, but for animals in general - his barn is full of cats, who come running like dogs when they hear his voice, guineas, chickens, a swan and a duck. And then there's Du Du William de Villa Fiorucci (or some such title), fierce Lord of the Fiorucci manor, ferocious protector of Fausto and Ombretta, who doesn't know he's the size of a teacup.

He's the apple of the Fioruccis' eyes... just like a certain gray 20 year old gelding in one of the Faula Arabs paddocks.

Trapped I

Thursday June 26 2008

I was headed by train from Milan to Gubbio, where Italian endurance rider Fausto Fiorucci was picking me up at the statzione.

I missed the first train at 9 AM, because it was full, so I got on the next one 2 hours later. I called Fausto to let him know. Six hours later, I was almost at Gubbio... but the train stopped in the station just before Gubbio, and it just sat there, for 20 minutes, doing nothing. So after coming two hours later than planned, now I'm 20 minutes late.

We finally got moving, and in 15 minutes were coming into Gubbio. I have a habit I follow when riding trains - get off the train the same door you that got on. I gathered my bags, and headed back to the door from which I entered the train, and there waited with another Italian couple for the train to come to a stop. I saw Fausto on a bench waiting, talking on his cell phone.

The train stops. We push the door button. Nothing happens. We push it again. Nothing. We start pounding on the button in a panic - nothing! We look at each other in bewildered panic. Bloody hell! We grab our bags and run through the train car to the next exit door, and push the button. The door starts to open - just as the whistle sounds and all the train doors slam shut and the train starts moving! Oh no! I see Fausto get up, frowning, starting to walk away, because I didn't get off the train. I start slamming on the window and yelling, "FAUSTO!" but he doesn't hear me. AHHH! The three of us look at each other - we are stuck on the train! This is like the start of a Stephen King novel!

I called Fausto on my phone, but could only leave a message, "I was on the train! I saw you! But we couldn't get off! I guess I will get off at the next station and hop the next train back to Gubbio." The couple decided the same thing - and that is when we noticed that one of the doors had a sticker with a slash across the picture of a person stepping off the train. "No uscita" - no exit. On the other side, no such picture; you can exit through that door. The only problem with that is, unless you are familiar with the local station stops, you don't know which side of the train you must exit from! "Ay, Mama Mia!" they exclaimed. Mama indeed!

We start to get worried as, 6 minutes later, the train starts slowing down for the next station. If our exit is on the left side of the train (which Gubbio was not), we are OK. If our exit is on the right side of the train, we can't get out this end of the car; it would have to be out a door at the other end - we won't make it again. We are at both door windows, craning our necks to try to see which side the platform is on... and we luck out. The platform is on our left, and we can exit the left door.

We stumble out at a tiny, abandoned station. You can't even buy a ticket here if you need one. And the next train back to Gubbio is not for another hour. Where is Steph, to fall on the floor laughing with? This IS funny, right?

Well? What can you do. I called Fausto - who had to leave and go to his office for a patient (he's a dentist) - and told him I'd be back in Gubbio in an hour.

I eventually made it back there, and I think Fausto saw the humor in the story when I explained it later. I wasn't quite sure yet that I did, since I inconvenienced someone else.

But of course, the Raven found the whole adventure amusing.