Stranger Things II

The Fuck It Tour

Travel, Get Over It

To continue where I left off this morning, after waiting for over 24 hours for Budget to call me back, I had, at some point, heard the sexy sounding Italian agent say something about “I have found you a car in Lucca”.  I decided that one more morning spent in phone queues was not remotely conducive to a pleasant day having spent two already.  I further decided, fuck it, I’ll take the bus to Lucca and present myself at the Budget desk and, batting my baby blues at whatever agent was in front of me, I would straighten out this mess and move on with the planned itinerary.

Ha

I bought the bus ticket, went to the bus stop by the main gate, and waited.  And waited.  Finaly, after several busses (not my number) had come and gone I asked a driver on the next one “Lucca?” No Inglese, but after somehow taking pity he just motioned for me to get on the bus.  We took the “scenic” route, through town, first of all, picking up milling crowds of teenage school kids.  We then proceeded through every small village between Barga and Lucca. Stunning valley drive, lovely day, upper 70’s, and at least counting down the 30 miles from Barga to Lucca. 

Until

He motioned me to get off the bus

I was somewhere, no sign of the town I was in, but he gesticulated at me while machine-gunning Italian, complete with the requisite Italian hand gestures.  Effectively he was saying “Sit. Stay. Lucca bus come.”  Well, it finally did!  I made the last 5 miles and saw on my phone that the Budget office was on the opposite side of the old walled Lucca (which is not small), so I got off and walked the last half hour with some hope!

Not so fast buddy

Since I had no contract, only a photo of the car and the tag number, she accessed my agreement but informed me that they had not “found” my car.  Ever so slightly accusatory, she asked who I had called.  The list was way too long for me to enumerate for her. I explained I had called, written, and texted, the numbers they had given me for 24hr roadside assistance pamphlet. 

She further explained that they only had all electric cars there in Lucca, not something that would work for me with my agenda.  But!  I could go to Pisa airport where they had more cars.

And then it got real

“Well, since we do not have the car you rented, AND, you do not have a contract in hand, we cannot provide you with yet another car.”  Period. So going to Pisa was a non-starter before it started.

It was now approaching the cutoff to cancel my reservations in Ravenna and the weather said rain the entirety of my stay, so I quickly cancelled that next leg of my journey.  I’d deal with my friend Joe’s 65^TH birthday weekend in Chianti later, that was days away.  Small steps.

I got my AT Bus app fired up and found two more buses back to Barga today.  Bought a ticket online and set off to the bus stop on the app.  Another half hour trudge and, I had missed the 5pm bus.  The next was not for a couple of hours.  I was in shorts, remember?  Beautiful day in the 70’s?  The sun was setting, last night it was 11C.  That’s like the North Pole to my thin blood.  Hanging around on a street corner for two hours?  Not so much.

I decided a taxi was the last and final answer to this leg of the saga. I called a taxi line, the very helpful and amazingly efficient, and magnificently fluent woman, was asking me questions about my location.  Looking around there was not much.  By the now rapidly setting sun, I determined I was at the main north gate to old walled Lucca.  She immediately asked if there was a large round-a-bout.  Why yes!  And then she asked if there was coffee stand and named it!  I was standing in front of it.

I will add, she was in Rome

The taxi showed up in six minutes. Some things DO work here! I wearily climbed in and said Home James.  In 40 minutes, I was exactly where I had started, minus 92 well spent Euros.  While a largish amount of money, the utter luxury and convenience of being within reach of, warm clothes and a glass of wine and dinner was more than compensatory.  Besides, I had spent more than that on a taxi to get us 1.5 miles from Levi Stadium to the hotel after the Stones concert a month ago. Nuff said.

I still have no car

Nor any idea where my old car is

I did get a very brief call from, I think, Budget this morning but they only spoke French.  Call ended, no further follow up.  I may be able to rent a car here in a Barga-adjascent suburb for the weekend so Joe’s party may still be in the works.  I will deny knowing anything about a previous rental, clean slate and all that.

Dave is threatening to turn in my felonious self to the authorities. I fear they will catch up with me in Istanbul and I will spend the rest of my life in a Turkish prison for stealing a Fiat Punto, dented and full of flats.

I think the Fiat is in Mexico by now