Bold Undertakings...

Where does your sense of adventure come from?  Have you ever wondered why we’re wired the way we are…I guess it comes back to the age old question are you born with certain traits and/or dispositions or do you learn and respond to your surroundings and experiences.   Hhhhmmm, it definitely got me thinking this week as I reflected on my venturesome leanings. 

I’d like to think I was born with an adventurous spirit, but in reality I suppose its more likely a bit of both - well at least until they decode the genetics to answer this specific question we’ll have to go with that!  

Where to go....so many choices?!

The more I thought about that question this week the more it puzzled me…you see growing up I had a very limited view of the world and would therefore contend that I had a pretty limited sense of adventure.  But if we take a look at the facts we may discover something else at play here.  Let’s see, (1) The town I grew up in, Clunes was a very small country town in rural Australia - clearly not a lot going on, not to mention it was the 1960’s & 70’s!  Rural, isolated and old fashioned…. (2) We didn’t have much money as dad was often working at least two jobs to make ends meet which leads me to (3) without money or time holidays were out of the question for me and my family, not once did we go on holiday during my childhood.  To say it was a bit dull was a bit of an overstatement.   However, that being said it also provided me with something that many people haven’t experienced - a place where you could create your own adventures?   Sure they weren’t too worldly or overly exciting, but it broke the daily monotony.   Perhaps there’s a clue there…

We lived relatively close to a creek, where we often fished, caught yabbies’ (miniature freshwater lobster), swam and sometimes even ventured into old gold mines which dotted the banks – thank goodness our parents didn’t know that one!  J   You see, Clunes is an old gold mining town, well at least that were its original roots way back in the 1850’s and so to this day it remains festooned with old diggings and even a number of deep and decaying mine shafts.  I wouldn’t let my kids within 100 meters of these places.

San Fran is chock full of interesting things to see and try...yum!

Then there were the endless paddocks and farms that surrounded Clunes, plus the miles of country roads (yes, all dirt in those days) and seemingly endless expanse of virgin eucalyptus bush to boot.  

Some might look at this and think – “wow, what a blissful environment to grow up in” and I’m guessing we’d all pay big money to live somewhere like this now, especially the proximity to a aromatic eucalyptus forest…

As I reflect on it, it wasn’t too bad as it provided us with some pretty unique opportunities that a lot of other kids wouldn’t have go a chance to do if you lived in a city or larger town.   Firstly, we learned to drive at an early age (starting after we turned 10 y.o.) – those dirt roads were especially great for learning to slide a car around a corner (but I’ll leave that for another day), we learned to handle a rifle and shotgun with care, as we’d practice our shooting mostly on cans and fence posts, but also the occasional rabbit or kangaroo when it came within striking distance.   We’d often chase or catch wild rabbits (ferreting or spotlighting when we got older). 

If you asked any of my peers from those days they’d say that it sounds like a pretty average Australian upbringing in the bush, and it was!   Not overly complicated if you know what I mean. 

Haight & Ashbury in San Francisco - cool throw back
to the 60's

 If I close my eyes I’m quickly transported back to my childhood and those simpler times…the feeling of the wind in my hair, the sun, hot and clear as it warms my face, the clear scented air filing my lungs and the unique and beautiful sounds of the bush all around me as I walk through the tinder dry under growth.   There was something about the air that made things brighter or more concentrated, or is it just my youth and the romanticized view of those days?  

Hard to tell, but today when I go back, my pilgrimage is now to the local cemetery where mum and dad are both interned.   Although its a very sad outing, it’s also an extremely peaceful place surrounded by all the things that I just described….it’s a slice of home etched in my memory forever.   I can’t think of a better place to imagine them together.

I can see you now all looking at me quizzically asking so why tell me this story?

Well, as you read this week’s blog I’m cheerfully exploring San Francisco with Zach and Sami for the Labor day long weekend.  We decided that we needed to have an adventure of our own and so in the vein of creating your own fun I challenged each of them to create a daylong itinerary for San Francisco that we’d all actively participate in – the ground rules…there would be no complaints, fighting, or not wanting to go along.  We were all in!

I’m not sure if you’d call it a test, but clearly they’ve had a very different upbringing than mine, and I wondered if they share the same level of excitement I get when I set foot on a plane or in a new city for the first time?   Strangely that unbridled deep down exhilaration has never gone away for me, or likely to given where I am in my life!

TW in San Francisco earlier today with two very keen
accomplices!   

Clearly, it has less to do with the actual adventure, but with their thinking, creativity and excitement of discovering a city on their terms.  So in preparation I gave them some of my old travel books and suggested they spend some time researching over the course of the week.  Wow, talk about excitement when I picked them up last night!

At the end of the day I’d love for them to suggest we explore some little known neighborhood or restaurant off the beaten track but perhaps I’m being a little too unrealistic with my expectations considering they’re 13 and 11 respectively, but more importantly I’d like to think that at some point they’d be telling their own kids about their cool adventures with their dad when they were kids….hhhmmm now wouldn’t that be something!

Time...

What got me thinking about this week’s blog was something an acquaintance said to me after I got back from Italy – they said, “I want your life”.   Interesting I thought to myself after the conversation ended, “who dictates what your life is other than you?”…   Unless you’re a believer in reincarnation (and not that there’s anything wrong with that), you only get to live this once so figuring out what you want out of life is pretty central to living a contented and fulfilled life…one with no regrets.   I can see a few of you nodding as you read this.

On the dock at Lenno on
Lake Como in the Italian Lakes
- a TW favorite!

This conversation couldn’t have come at a more appropriate time, because after my sixteen days in Italy where I had a lot of time on my hands and spent a good deal of time reflecting on my life to this point and determining no only what’s most important to me but also what’s next.

No surprise that admittedly its been a tad hard readjusting to my day to day “normal” life back in Toronto and yes, I can hear you all now as I smile to myself (inside voice please)…a few come to mind – “cry me a river dude” is one that springs to mind. :-)  Perhaps it’s that darn travel hangover…again!

Anyway, this somewhat self imposed reflection period had been a long time coming and for the first time in quite some time I was able to really take stock and determine my next steps in this very short life we lead.

Without doubt my first priority is, and always will be Zach & Samantha.   Clearly part and parcel of this is to be the best possible dad and continue to heavily influence them and their lives with my love, caring, listening, humor (quite often they don’t see this as a plus), insights & advice, and generally provide them a sense of groundedness that I sometimes wish I had as a kid.   I realize there are some pretty big bundles here, but seriously this would turn into a tome if I didn’t bundle it up!

Strangely as I thought about the other things that I want in my life the list becomes a pretty short one…  

Clearly my health is critical to any plan – so clearly that’s on the list.  We all take this for granted, with the best example being my dad who was what I thought to be healthy and as strong as a bull until he wasn’t.   It happened in the blink of an eye with that single diagnosis – hhhmmm makes you think doesn’t it?

San Fruttuosco & Portofino - what a great hike and
indeed adventure!

So health is number two after the kids.  I suppose that means exercising more often, although I’m not doing too badly with a couple of times a week I need to stay vigilant and perhaps try and ratchet that up to 3 or 4 times a week.   I’ve also decided to try yoga (yes, I can hear you – didn’t we discuss using your inside voice?).  I know for those of you who I’ve laughed at (sorry I mean “with”) and harangued over the years for going to yoga (sometimes even called into question your manhood…).   Well, I’ve decided to put my pre-conceived notions aside and give it a try.  So now I’m on the look out for a class that’s close to home at least one night a week that I can commit to – stay tuned!

There are a few other things that influence your health, not only that but then you need to try and balance them more effectively.

What do I mean by balance?   Well, exercising a little more would likely be a good start; as well I need to pay more attention to my diet (I’m sure I’ll learn to love salads more although it could take a while L).  Actually before the kids went to summer camp they helped me quite a bit with my grocery shopping habits.   Firstly, no more lollies (candy for those of you in North America) - yep, they got me buying dried fruit (raisins, dried cranberries and dried apricots etc.) as a substitute instead.  I do feel better for it, perhaps its mostly mental, but I liked their suggestions and support that they gave me on this one so I plan on staying the course on that one. 

Uncovering these little gems in my 
travels has been truly amazing!
(Dolceacqua - Italy)

Okay so now I have more exercise, a little more emphasis on choosing the right foods but I also need to try and take away some of the stress associated with my life.   Easier said than done and a pretty complicated one to tackle wouldn’t you agree?   To me stress is interwoven into everything we do – stress of living in a big city, stress of the commute, stress of the job, stress associated with families, stress of paying the bills on time…well, you get my drift.  There are lots and lots of things that stress us, every day.   However, I think in part if you’re happy in yourself (personally) then that can help arbitrate the stress levels to a large degree as well.     

Again, a very complicated topic to tackle “what makes you happy” is extremely hard to isolate per see.   It suppose it depends on the day, your personal relationships, your workload, and clearly the stress levels impinging on you at home, at work and everywhere in between.   I tried but soon realized that it’s too easy to get discouraged when you tackle such an enormous topic, so I tried to peel it back and really understand at the most basic level what makes me happy...easier said that done.   A great little exercise with a sunset and half a litre of fantastic local Italian red wine helping your thought process along!

Here what I came up with:  other than seeing my kids thrive and be happy it’s the following:  (1) surround myself with people who care about me and that support me for who I am...yes, even with all my flaws!  (2) Change my personal perspective and focus on “working to live”…not the other way around.  I guess this means that I should start planning my next travel adventure! (3) Ensure that my priorities are aligned to my personal values and that I keep my work – life balance in perspective no matter what I do or for whom I do it.  (4) Be true to myself and follow my passion.  Strangely I’ve given this advice to many of my counselees at work over the past few years, and now after taking a little while to step back I probably should consider taking my own advice J

Hard not to reflect with an amazing sunset and
a terrific bottle of red Italian wine.

This one is big pretty big cos’ it means that I need to be in an environment which allows me to be more creative on a daily basis, a little less rigid and controlled perhaps…hhhmmm? 

My way of interpreted this particular one as I was self reflecting was to set myself the personal goal of publishing a book within a year (before the end of next August…yikes!) 

Wow, I said it out loud for everyone to hear.   What makes that statement so exciting and real is that I’ve thought about doing this a lot over the last few months (admittedly with a significant amount of encouragement and support from all my weekly blog readers – almost 10,000 people over the last seven months), and now by saying it out loud it actually brings it to life and makes it real.   It’s now no longer just a dream or hope, but a tangible goal that I’m going to now go and do.  

As you’d expect there’s a lot more on my wish list but this will do for a start don’t you think? J

Surrender

As you know I’ve been fortunate to travel quite a lot over the years as my many of blogs can attest, but my adventures to India stand out.  Why you ask? 

They say once you’ve been to India you do one of two things, you either embrace or you resist it.  If you resist, well it can be a jarring experience full of tough images and emotional challenges.  However, if you embrace India for what it is, then it has a way of getting under your skin, and on some level fall in love with the people and amazing beauty and simplicity of the Indian way on life. 

It was just a few short years a go that I had to go to India for business. Prior to getting my shots at the local Vancouver clinic I looked at the map of the world to see what shots I’d likely need.  India was awash with the myriad of things I could contract or be exposed to, looks like I’m going to get them all I thought to myself.  I remember the sense of trepidation as I had every immunization known to man – Hep. A & B, Cholera, Dengue Fever…you name it I had it.   

A page from TW's Immunization Travel Card
(one of the many...)

Holy shit this is serious I caught myself thinking (ensure that it was only my inner voice and not the outside one is always a good thing in a crowded clinic), but never the one to shy away from a good adventure (plus the whole work thingy…) I accepted the fact that I was about to become a veritable pin cushion!

Sure enough once I told the doctor where I was going she started reeling off all the ones I would need, so I just smiled my best TW smile and said “no worries – let’s do it!”

Now that over with I had to also get a couple of letters – the first had to be an invitation from our local India office, another form my client to say that I had business in India and hence needed a work/travel visa.  I arrived early in the morning to the Indian Consulate General in Vancouver with my letters, photos and the fee (of course) to secure my visa.  Once I had filled out the forms I also had to submit my passport along with all the requisite forms, fees, photos etc.….   “Don’t worry it will be mailed to your home address in seven business days” the consular agent told me, and although a little disconcerted that I had just given up my passport I was pleasantly surprised to get everything returned safely and on time.

The big day came for my departure and with a fair amount of trepidation and excitement I boarded my overnight flight to Frankfurt, before changing planes and tracking south to Bengaluru (Bangalore) in southern India.   

John (my old boss) and I arrived into a crowded and muggy terminal, chock full of westerners, ex-pats and those returning from or arriving for holidays and family visits.   Even at 1:00 AM it had a frenetic yet orderly place if you know what I mean, there were many international flights all landing around the same time.  Some might say it was controlled mayhem, others might leave out the word “controlled”, but whichever way you look at it I personally felt out of my element, well at least for the moment anyway.

Busy Indian street

Once through customs, which included a number of checkpoints, questions and enquiring eyes from the large number of security forces engaged in the process we had been instructed to keep a sharp look out for our driver (Mannish) who would be waiting for us, “don’t worry he’ll have a sign”.   We scanned the large crowd of drivers and people waiting for the many arrivals, the crowd was shoulder to shoulder and he also craning his neck looking for two North Americans amongst the large crowd of new arrivals, did I hear you say “pin in a haystack”?  

Once we located each other, he insisted on taking out bags and quickly led us out of the terminal and across a road to the car park and his waiting car, you see Mannish was going to be our driver for the entire time we would be in India.  He worked for one of the many car rental companies, and is highly recommended and indeed safer to have a driver than to risk driving in this chaotic locale.

I’m not sure if it was a combination of my exhaustion or the humidity or the scenes that greeted me as we drove into the city from the airport, even at this incredibly late hour my senses were being bombarded a strange assortment of images, smells and sounds.   I was clearly “no longer in Kansas” (the line from the Wizard of Oz) and thought to myself that this was going to take some getting used to.

We grabbed a few hours sleep at our palatial hotel before showering, grabbing a quick breakfast and heading down to the taxi rank where we asked for Mannish and his car number (#14), quick as a flash our car appeared in the driveway with a beaming Mannish perched behind the wheel.   Wow, that was fast!   Only later in the week did we realize that he slept in the car for the entire time we were in Bengaluru, always on call – 24 x 7.   I remember thinking how spotless the car was day or night; Mannish always crisply dressed which was, to be honest a bit of a contrast to the world outside the car…   How on earth did he manage to look so impeccable I thought?

Leela Palace Hotel - Bengaluru, India.  To be clear, the
Leela is not really roughing it!  :-)

After the first day or so, I’m no sure if I just got used to the scenes that surrounded me or became blasé particularly when stuck in traffic. Initially what got to me most were the young children begging at the windows of the car as we stopped in traffic or perhaps was it the row upon row of shanty huts that lined the sides of the roads, any space became a potential housing development or was it the abject and what seemed like pervasive poverty surrounding me on all sides?

The conundrum for me was the absolute happiness and positive attitude of the people I met during my visits, such a huge contrast.   Here was poverty like you’ve never seen before on one hand and on the other such a strong and positive outlook on the future of India – simply uplifting!

I also realized early on in my first visit that the only way to survive India was to “surrender” myself to it.  Although I’m not a big fan of spicy food I now have a new appreciation of real Indian food and some of the differences between dishes from the north versus the south of the country.  Definitely opening myself up and allowing myself time and mental space to find an appreciation of the sights, sounds, smells and textures that were constantly evolving around me was an interesting situation to be in.  Accepting all of its contrasts, extremes and indeed this very richness brought my experience to life on a whole new level – hard to explain, but I was able to “breath”, strange as it sounds.

A highlight of our initial visit was our team dinner - prior to our visit John has spoken to the local lead and said that we wanted to take the “team” (John had meant Leadership team) to dinner during our visit.   We were assured that everything would be arranged for Wednesday night at a local restaurant.  As it got closer there seemed to be a fair amount of excitement and buzz was in the air about the big dinner.  The buzz was not confined only to the leadership team…hhhmmm It seemed as though everyone knows about the dinner – strange I thought myself.

At 5:00 pm we headed downstairs to locate Mannish who was going to take us over to the restaurant, after an excruciatingly long delay stuck in traffic, even with running a couple of red lights and driving up a one way street the wrong way we finally arrived, only to find the entire team – yes, all 140 people already at the restaurant.   As we entered they all clapped and cheered…this was when I noticed John turn slightly pail.   He genuinely thought that we were taking the eight people on the local leadership team out for dinner, not the entire team!

Apparently they had booked the entire restaurant, all three floors including rooftop, a live rock band (these guys were amazing and could play any cover, taking request all night long :-).   I could see John doing the math in his head, 140 people for a three-course meal, drinks, live band…he leaned in and quietly asked how much money I had on me.  I said I had about $100 US dollars, plus about 5000 Indian Rupee, plus my credit card if need be.

Bronze statue of Ganesha at the restaurant - he is worshipped on
many religious and secular occasions, especially at the time
of beginning new ventures - like starting a business

After an awesome meal, great music, endless drinks it was beginning to wind down at around 10:30 pm and the moment of truth was about to come - time for the bill if you please…   After all was said and done we ended up splitting it on our credit cards but the whole lot came out to about $350 US dollars for the entire night.

The next morning everyone was abuzz with stories from the night before, it clearly had been a huge success.   As I walked the bays it was awash with peels of laughter, lots of post mortem discussion and clearly there was a good vibe about how much fun we’d all had the night before.  Now that was a team-building event! 

I wanted to get a sense of the real India and so over the course of the week I made it a point of speaking to Mannish so I could learn a little more about his life.  I must admit I was shocked to learn that he like the other drivers employed by the rental car companies, each driver only got one chance per month (roughly speaking) to drive someone from the West.   It didn’t matter if his clients were only in town for one day or two weeks this was this driver’s singular opportunity to make some extra money over and above the meager salary ($40 per month) for his general driving services.  

He also explained that he lived in a village about 50 miles outside Bengaluru and that each weekend if he wasn’t working he would walk or hitch hike home to see his wife and two sons, sometimes taking him most of the day to get home before turning around and making his way back to the city and the next driving job.   They lived a subsistence life in the village; with almost the entire amount he earned going to pay rent with the remainder on food.   The tips he made from his western customers allowed him to buy non-essentials (school uniforms, books and  medicine for his one son with severe asthma).

At the end of the week John and I pooled our remaining Rupee and gave it to Mannish as a tip, not a lot but the equivalent of about an extra month’s salary ($160 US dollars).  As we handed him the wad of notes, his eyes misted up as he gripped our hands strongly and shook them until I thought I was going to lose feeling in my fingers. 

Some people might be skeptical and dismiss this as a token act or that it just made us feel good, but I would contend that making a difference to someone’s life irrespective cannot be measured in the size of the act, but the act itself.

I guess I’d like to think that this small token of our appreciation and esteem for Mannish made a difference and perhaps provided a little breathing space for him and his family, even for just a little while.

Whenever I think of India I warmly think of all my friends there and how they touched my heart with their kindness and generosity!

2:15 Shuttle

These past few days I’ve been camped at a hotel just outside the village of Camogli, which is situated on the Liguria coast some 25 km south east of Genoa, Italy.  The actual hotel is high up on a hilltop overlooking the ocean so with spectacular views of the sea and mountains it’s hard to contemplate leaving…

Looking towards Genoa at Sunset from the Hotel
- the Liguria Coast is a very special place indeed!

However, I wanted to tell you about one of my adventure this week.   As usual the sun was shining high in an unbelievably blue sky – “azure” as the locals would say.   I had decided to hike to Portofino via the small and remote village of San Fruttuosco, which is only accessible either by foot or boat.   The hike to Portofino is about 10 km through the Parc di Portofino.  Interestingly the Italian government realized that both the land and sea in this area is a natural wonder to Italy and decided to create both a national and marine park.   You can see why as its absolutely gorgeous!

Parc de Portofino trail - looks easy!

Definitely feeling up to the challenge given that I’d hiked the Kokoda Track in Papua New Guinea last year and reckoning I could now pretty much tackle any type of local hike I set off with high hopes of an easy stroll in the park.  

Prior to leaving the hotel I had stopped into the front desk that doubles as the Concierge; I tried to explain to the somewhat bewildered front desk clerk that I was planning on hiking to Portofino and wanted to know how I could get back to the hotel.

Clearly my Italian is not primo, or his English equally up to the challenge, that being said he endeavoured to explain that the best way back was to catch a boat from Portofino that would stop at San Fruttuoso, where I would change boats and then take one to Camogli from whence there I could catch the shuttle back to the hotel.  

Which shuttle would I like to book for this afternoon back from Camogli he asked smiling?

I then asked him how often the boats left from Portofino to San Fruttuoso and Camogli…every hour he said confidently.   Looking at my watch I calculated that it would take me a couple of hours to hike to Portofino – it said 3.5 hours on the guide (however given that I was an experienced hiker) I thought it would only take me a couple of hours, then a look around in Portofino, possibly lunch… “Put me on the 2:15 pm shuttle back from Camogli” I told him self-assuredly.

Smartly I ensured that I had water and snacks for my hike, but instead of hiking boots (which I decided to leave home at the last minute to save on space with my carry on) I decided to wear my sandals…(mistake number one).  I reasoned that if the porters in PNG can hike across the Kokoda track in thongs (flip-flops to you in North America) then surely I could handle this little jaunt in my sandals…  How hard can it be I think naively?

Walking through wild and ancient olive groves

The Parc entrance was at the top of the hotel car park and so with high hopes for easy walk and some magnificent views, I set off at 9:38 am.  The path leading out of the hotel was well laid stonework and very flat, but after the first turn the path turned into a dusty and narrow pathway…well it is a national park after all I thought to myself.   Fortunately the path was well signed and so not easy to get lost, thank goodness because it became decidedly steeper – both up and down and actually quite reminiscent of my Papuan adventure.  

Hhhmmm these sandals were probably not a good idea I said out loud (first sign of madness) after about an hour and still not at San Fruttuoso…where the hell is this place anyway?   Sure enough through the trees from my high cliff vantage point I spot what looked like a church down in a little cove.   Slowly winding my way down this steep grade through wild olive groves to the village…hardly a village as it consisted of half a dozen stone houses an ancient abbey, bell tower and restaurant.   Such a remote but beautiful little place I think to myself and so after a few quick photos decide I better get a wriggle on if I’m going to make the 2:15 shuttle.

Now that I’ve come down into San Fruttuoso I have to get myself back up and over to Portofino, and thank goodness rather than having to scale that enormous mountain, I can follow the path around the ocean and over the headland…now for the easy part I think to myself…just a little stroll to Portofino and everything will be back on track.

San Fruttuoso can only be reached either on
on foot or by boat but is such an enchanting little village!

As I continue my ever increasing hike up the headland, the sweat is dripping off me and my camera is at the risk of being drowned so clipping it to my back pack I trudge on – man it must be 35C I think to myself…

I run into a couple of other hikers coming the other way and what strikes me is that they are clearly experienced as they all have walking poles, oh and the proper footwear…

The views of Portofino are magnificent as I round the track and spot it far off in the distance.  It takes me just over 3:15 min to make it to Portofino, and now completely drenched in sweat, I look as though I’ve been swimming rather than hiking.  After a bit of an explore I look at my watch and calculate that I probably don’t have a lot of time to spare before the next boat leaves for Camogli so I quickly seek out the Tourist Office to get directions or the very least a ticket.

I asked the bewildered agent when the next boat to San Fruttuoso and Camogli leaves – she stares at me and says…”no boats today – perhaps tomorrow”.   “You could walk - its only three and half hours to Camogli if you don’t visit San Fruttuoso” she says smiling.

At this point I think she realized the look on my face as one of utter dejection…then she said that perhaps I could catch the bus to San Margherita Liguria and then the train to Camogli, but I would have to hurry as the next bus was going to leave in three minutes from the end of the road…   She quickly showed me where the bus would drop me off and where the train station was (10 min walk from the main piazza in San Margherita) on a tourist map which she now gives me and bundles me out the door pointing to where the bus will be in mere moments.

Destination - Portofino

No time to wait, I sprinted up the road to find a long line of people waiting and if I wasn’t completely drenched before I was positively dripping now as I stood in line for the bus under the continuingly unremitting sun. 

Sure enough the bus is absolutely packed and I’m stuck at the back standing in a pool of my own sweat surrounded by, for the most part rather unhappy tourists as they eye me with horror.  The bus swings wildly around each corner on the exceedingly narrow coast road I’m often pushed into those around me…feeling acutely embarrassed and apologizing (“mi scuze”) like there is no tomorrow we eventually arrive in San Margherita. 

At the second stop in San Margherita the bus starts to empty, so thinking that this must be the main stop I also jump off only to realize as the bus pulls off in a cloud of blue diesel fumes that I am about a kilometer from the main piazza…crap! (Mistake number two)

After an additional 10-minute walk I find the signs to the train station – buying a ticket and getting a confirmation that the next regional train via Camogli leaves in 15 minutes I allow myself a deep breath.  

Looking at my watch, surprisingly I can still make the 2:15 pm shuttle.

I observe a number of express trains fly through the station at high speed and even a couple of regional trains heading in the other direction (La Spezia) on the other platform, they are all meticulously on time.   I think to myself how Trenitalia have really got their act together and run a tight ship.  Nice!

My train is due any moment, but there is an announcement to say my train will be delayed 15 minutes, which is in both Italian and English.   Okay still good!   With 5 minutes till my train is scheduled to arrive another train slowly chugs into the station and stops in front of me.   Almost all of the people around me get onto the train; this must be it I think to myself as I board (Mistake number three).   In the hub-hub of boarding there is another announcement but I can’t hear given all the noise around me, so I ask another passenger if this train stops in Camogli…they have no English and have a slightly confused look as I ask again – “Camogli?”

The jerks forward…this must be it I think to myself, there can’t be too many options although I must admit a shadow of doubt begins to sneak into my psyche as the train builds up speed and heads into the first tunnel.

At the second tunnel it seems to be traveling at least 100 km per hour, and given my understanding of the local geography Camogli is just on the other side of this tunnel…

Not exactly my first choice of final
destination for the quick trip back...

“Noooooo” I think to myself as the train barrels through Camogli and I sit somewhat dejected for the next 20 minutes as the train travels all the way to Genoa without another stop.   So now I’m 30 km from where I need to be.   Seems like the harder I push the further I am from my goal…hhhmmm seems like a life lesson to me!

Eventually detraining at the Genoa Brignole station I now procure another ticket back to Camogli and wait patiently for the next regional train that eventually arrives on time (without any delays) and to the right platform. 

What a day I think to myself – such an unexpected adventure!   I could be mad, upset or dejected, but instead I choose to smile and think how fortunate I am to have had such an amazing day in such a beautiful part of the world.  This is what traveling is all about, dealing with the unexpected, both good and bad…enjoying myself along the way and now getting to you tell the tale.

p.s.   Yes I missed the 2:15 pm shuttle….no surprise there!   The 20-euro taxi ride back up the mountain to my hotel was worth every last centime.  :-)