“Is this it?” she asks.
“I’m not sure,” I respond.
Our train to Offenburg leaves at 9:41. Our connecting train was delayed coming into the station, so we literally had a couple of minutes to grab our packs, disembark, and find our next train. The trains (usually) leave on time in Germany, so there is no room for debate.
The timetable screens are all in German, of course.
There is a train in front of us leaving for Offenburg at 9:40.
Our train to Offenburg is scheduled to leave at 9:41.
Is it one and the same? How many trains go to Offenburg within 1 minute of each other?
We jump on, and it pulls out of the station.
The title of this Post gives away the ending, but not the surprise.
We are going to end up in the same place, but 4 hours later than we expected. Ugh!
Additionally, it’s a commuter train and not the fancy bullet train with the doors that swish open.
The carpet is coffee-stained, and seats are well-worn. Double Ugh!
Hold it!
I have heard legendary stories about what happens to you in Europe if The Conductor (OMG-Not The Conductor) finds you on the wrong train without the right ticket.
It is apparently a big European No-No.
The “I’m a just tourist” excuse is of no use. They will give you a big fine with the required payment in CASH on the spot (Lord help you if you don’t have the Euros for the fine) and kick you off of the train at the next station. You are left to your own devices (hope they are charged).
Time ticks by as we wait to learn our fate from The Conductor.
He finally enters the carriage and slowly works his way toward our seats.
He is in front of us now. He looks over his glasses and asks us for our tickets (Your Papers!) in firm German.
I immediately launch into my litany of rehearsed excuses:
“Our train was late.”
“We can’t read German.”
“We got confused.”
“Why are there so many trains going to Offenburg leaving at the same time?”
“I’m blind.”
“The dog ate my homework.”
And of course . . .
“I’M JUST A TOURIST.”
He holds up a hand to stop me and says, in perfect English,
“I don’t speak English.”
Hmm.
I nod and hand him our tickets.
He scans them, nods, and . . . goes to the next passenger.
And that’s the last we see of The Conductor.
Surprise. The condition of the train and four extra hours of train ride melt away just like the landscape speeding past my window.
Leave a comment