The Ozzies

The next day, we got off the train in Patras, and who should be stood in the station? Lisa, one of the Oz girls! Linley was nearby. It was really a small world.

It worked out in our favour, because they told us which ticket office to go to and which ticket to buy. If left to our own devices, we would have paid €100 to get a place on a sewage trawler. As it turned out, we paid €6 to get a place on the nicest ferry I've ever seen, all the way up to Ancona. Whereas we were expecting to have to go to Brindisi, right in the heel, Ancona was a lot more northern, within spitting distance of Florence. Well, not quite, but you get the point. It did mean that we wouldn't be able to see Bob again, but I could live with that. There are always more Bobs.

We got on the ferry with the Ozzies, and kept each other entertained until the wee small hours. The boat obviously hadn't been designed with the likes of us in mind - the bars had marble floors and there was even escalators and lifts. Quite ridiculous. We only had deck space though, but even that was covered and sheltered.

An annoying German Bridge Engineer came over and joined us when we were playing cards, and started showing us average tricks. When we reciprocated, he would stop us halfway through to tell us how we were doing it - you know the sort.

Karim decided to fix him by showing off his special trick. This one can be done at home. Ask the volunteer from the audience to pick a card, memorise it, and then put it back in the pack, so it's half sticking out. Then he cuts the deck and shuffles it a few times, in full view, with the card still sticking out. Then the grand finale comes when he just says "Is that your card?"

It made me laugh every time. The German didn't really get it. He just said "But you didn't shuffle my card! You didn't shuffle my card!"

Then we had to go one better, so we performed our rather cunning mind-reading trick that I had seen done in Barcelona and annoyed Karim about until he had told me how it worked. It involved the German writing down a word, and then Karim reading out a long list of words, including the German's. I, with a blindfold on, would tell them which word was the German's. This really pissed him off, because he couldn't' figure out how it was done and me winding him up by saying "Come On! You're German! Where's the methodical approach? Where's the logical reasoning?" didn't really help.

At least I didn't make the bad taste German joke.

I can't actually commit to paper how the trick works, because apparently I'll get burned by gypsies or something. Besides, it's too funny to share.

We moved into a corridor to sleep - the carpet was warm, it was quiet and comfortable. And the kind staff didn't kick us awake until just after nine in the morning - more proof that we were really travelling in style.

I had brought Lisa and Linley up to date on the Marie-Louise situation, and had even borrowed Lisa's mobile to send her a text message - "There Is No Spoon". We exchanged e-mails and I added them to the list of people to inform about how it all worked out. I really wanted to be telling people good news. I couldn't really imagine getting enthusiastic about writing an e-mail to a load of backpackers saying "Guess what - struck out! Them's the breaks, I suppose".

We travelled together as far as Bologna, and after a quick pizza, parted company. Bless them. It was good to keep bumping into them. And they certainly made the difference between an enjoyable boat ride and a terrible one.

We travelled North through Italy, and found ourselves on a German overnight train heading to Munich. We were going to get off one stop before, at Summerau, which is the town of choice for people wanting to go to Austria.

It was to be our first German train. We were looking forward to it - for one thing, it couldn't be any worse than the Italian train that was the only other choice, and for another, even if it was bad, then it would be a great German Trains Are s*** Story.