I find myself safely in Bologna - the journey in itself was unremarkable but the company I kept has left scars! I arrived at the port of Split at the appointed time for the ferry crossing, picked up my boarding pass - so far so good - and then sat awaiting the customs post to open so we could be checked through. Next to me was a lady from Bosnia who lived in Italy and instantly became my new best friend!
I don't speak Italian and she spoke only a few words of English but that didn't stop her mammoth efforts to tell me her life story and the best way to get to Bologna where she was going. I know that her father had recently died of cancer. She was returning home to her Italian husband who is a wonderful man who puts glasses and food on the table and then does the washing up. I am in agreement that any man who has this ability has to be wonderful. My experience of men does not match this in any way. I instantly liked him!
She was clearly a seasoned traveller on this ferry. She knew what was what. I had bought the cheapest seats and not a private berth for the overnighter, partly because I was overwhelmed by the different choices of berth- with or without shower, with or without windows, sharing or not sharing. She was pleased we would be spending the night together. I wasn't so sure.
The boat was mostly empty. At one point the bar area numbered no more than 40 people and these seemed to be the passengers in total. The seating area had no more than 10 when we came to settle down. She said we could upgrade ourselves by taking unused berths. Her efforts in this were stymied so she came back and involved a man from Split in her conversation. So then there were three. A lady from France was looking for a place to charge her phone. That made four. Our lady, Jordan held court in two and a half languages.
Eventually, a grumpy and probably very reasonable man complained from across the seated area that there was too much noise. There was! This didn't stop immediately, though. Even I had understood Mr Grumpy's plea and so we did part for the night.
In the morning, she gave instructions about leaving the boat, how to get to the train station and I duly tagged along with her and the French lady. Now there were three. All was not so simple though. Jordan was clearly not one for reading timetables, she needed it told to her and by passersby aplenty.
At the train station she bought her ticket and after her the man at that counter closed his kiosk. I needed the same ticket. At the next counter I asked for one like the lady next door. It worked. We got a very cheap, slow train to Bologna. Ideal considering my hotel didn't do early check ins. Us three ladies shared breakfast, Fanny, my new French friend is a hardened traveller and said that it is unusual to have single ladies on the road. For me, I have come across a fair amount of single women - all wonderful, self-sufficient people, as was Fanny.
Finding the right platform for our train was a comedy. I naturally looked at the board but this was not the way it should be done, apparently. Jordan must have asked four different people which platform. She was determined to get me to my hotel. It was her task which she was more than eager to fulfill.
On the train, she played the Candy game on her phone, loudly. She showed me how to play the Candy game that had a jumping pig in it. To be honest, I can't get excited about flashes and sparkles on my phone but Jordan did and the train knew this. I tried to read.
She insisted her husband drive me to my hotel. They both had a very big heart and I appreciate the company and inward smiles I had along the way. For a few hours my life was not my own to control. I was blown off course by a whirlwind of hurricane proportions. Travelling alone is teaching me to roll with the punches and be in the moment.
Thank you, Jordan. You are one in a million and your energy makes the world go round.
Buona giornata, ti amo Marms
XXX
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| My boat |
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| Bye bye Split |
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