Karim's Sister

I got an overnight back to Nice, arriving on Sunday afternoon. I decided to pop over to Monaco while I was there, but it was a bit of a let down. Because it was Sunday the baggage place was closed, and that meant I had to wonder around with all my stuff. And bearing in mind Monaco is basically one big hill, this made for less than pleasant sight-seeing.

It also meant I had to catch a train back to Nice, as no night trains ran from Monaco to anywhere I wanted to go to. This was the fourth visit to Nice for me. The first time was fun - I had slept on the beach all day. The second time was a means to an ends. The third, I was just passing through. But to have to go there for a fourth time really made me realise how un-nice Nice really is.

I even saw the same bearded lady I had seen on my first visit. In the same place as well. And, if memory serves, she even garbled the same incoherent nonsense at me as I walked past.

Anyway. I arrived in Venice first thing in the morning, and took the next train to Bologna. After only an hour of trying to work out how to use Italian phone cards I was chatting to Karim's sister, and then the man himself. She had, bless her, treated him to a hotel room for the night. I informed him that I was sleeping on his floor and jumped in a taxi.

But by the time I got there I found that she's upgraded the room to a double. I have never loved a person more. I had a bed.... a shower.... a bed!! After a week of living the high life, and just two days straight on trains, I was a broken, dirty man. The bed was the best thing in the world.

They (Karim's sister and her friend Becca) even took us out for dinner. I decided that in honour of the occasion I would have a shave - my first for at least a fortnight. I realised afterwards that I looked about five years younger, and decided not to shave again in a hurry. Dinner was fantastic. It was a place that I kept thinking we were going to get chucked out of - definitely too good for us. Me and Karim that is. His sister and Becca were more than suited for such high standards. We were just tourists.

The next day we started giving some serious thought to our long-term plans. We were supposed to go from here to Prague, and then work our way east and south, passing through the likes of Bulgaria, Sofia and Bucharest before getting to Athens before the 1st October when our Interrail tickets expired.

But, when we examined our financial situation, the outlook was bleak. Karim had been promised his money within two weeks, but as he had already borrowed a fair bit off me that meant we had next to nothing to survive on until his cheque came through.

We decided to sack off Prague and Eastern Europe in general, and head south through Italy. We had heard that if we get to Brindisi, right in the heel, then our Interrail tickets would get us free passage on the ferry to Patras in Greece.

So that was the plan. That afternoon we got a train south. By morning, after the worst night's sleep ever and both of us swearing that that would be our last ever ride on an Italian train, we were in Brindisi.