Colin Hardy reports on how he made the most of his retirement gift from the Diocese.
We were given a most delightful gift from colleagues in the Diocese when I retired from my temporary position as Director of Schools for the Diocese. We thought the only possibility open to us was to put the retirement gift towards a holiday in Rome; a city which we hadn’t visited before.
We planned, we arranged the visit, and we were ready for a wonderful break. Our trip came round and we were to leave on 14th April. We found ourselves landing at Rome airport for our short city break at the same time the Iceland volcano was beginning to determine the travel routes of thousands of holidaymakers and business travellers.
It was Wednesday, we were not scheduled to depart until the following Monday: the problem with volcano ash would soon pass; we were in Rome to explore and enjoy the city. By Sunday, our confidence was waning. The rumours and counter rumours within our hotel were growing. UK airspace was closed. Rome airports were closed. BBC World Service reports were suggesting the power of the volcano was increasing. Weather maps looked most unhelpful. Pessimism was rife. No train tickets were available from Rome railway station until at least Tuesday and then only to Milan. Queues to enter the railway station were longer than those to enter St Peter’s. Passengers to the UK were being offered the possibility of flights back from the following Thursday but with no certainty. There was the fear that hotel costs could rise. Were we covered by our travel insurance for additional costs? Had we sufficient personal effects, including medication, to enjoy a longer stay? What were we to do?
We became honorary Danes. A lovely Danish couple who we had met on the first evening had been due to depart on the Friday but found that their options were reducing fast. They, with a few fellow Danes while queuing unsuccessfully at Rome station, chanced upon a novel solution. They would book a coach from Copenhagen which would travel to Rome and take a coach party north. We asked to become part of the party. We subsequently encouraged a further 11 passengers seeking to return to England to join us.
The passenger list grew and by Sunday evening, there were about 40 committed travellers which led to the projected fare falling from the initial fixed 350 euros to probably about 200 euros. In the meanwhile, our Danish friend had had to transfer half of the cost of the coach booking from her own account before the coach would leave Denmark: a most generous statement of faith. As planning proceeded, a network of contacts across Rome grew, telephone requests were received and by early Monday, all but two places on the 53 seat coach were booked. And then the organiser received a telephone call from Copenhagen from a husband whose wife and friend were being put down in Rome airport by a flight from Thailand: the plane could not fly further north. The final two places were filled! As 7pm grew near on the Monday evening, the 53 intrepid travellers collected at our hotel to await the arrival of the coach. An English couple with young daughter spoke to us and enquired how we were travelling: could they join? Unfortunately not, the coach was full. They told us that their flight company had offered the possibility of a flight home the following Wednesday: nine days to wait and even then there was considerable uncertainty along with significant hotel costs. They were not a happy pair.
The coach arrived to a loud cheer. We were soon seated in anticipation but as the driver left the hotel grounds, the coach collided with the entrance gate – a large front passenger window had been broken! We were not roadworthy! A three hour limp to the Volvo garage in Rome enabled temporary repairs to be undertaken, followed by a slow overnight journey to Florence to a larger Volvo garage where semi-permanent temporary arrangements were made by four workmen, well by one actually while three played football. The delay was an inconvenience for our Danish and Finnish friends but for the English party, the delay became somewhat more worrying. In anticipation, thanks to one of the teenagers in our group who had brought his laptop with him on holiday, we had all managed to book a ferry crossing from Zeebrugge to Hull with boarding for foot passengers closing at 5.30 pm on the Wednesday. Would the 15 hour delay affect our travel schedule?
More laptop examination of options: we would be dropped off at Munich station and take a train to Bruges. We could now enjoy the coach journey. The Italian Tyrol, the Bremmer pass, Innsbruck all passed without incident, views were magnificent, much better than by aircraft and we arrived in Munich at about 11.45 pm. All coach passengers disembarked for farewell embraces, we were by then all close friends. Into the station we rushed to purchase our tickets by the automatic ticket machines.
But wait, a problem arose: the ticket machines would not take plastic! Cash was acceptable, and half of the English party had to seek cash dispensers before tickets could be purchased. We had tickets, we had the journey schedule, we had sufficient time, and now we could relax.
The train was standing in the platform and we were advised we could enter the train immediately. The train was due to leave at 3.17 am but to our consternation, all seats throughout the 28 coaches were reserved! Initial panic subsided when we were told by a local passenger that the German Rail practice was to use the reserved seat sign as the default mode with actual seat reservations showing about 15 minutes before departure time. Warmth and comfort enticed sleep but we needed to see if we needed to move to unreserved seats. False alarm, we were OK and the journey on the ICE train commenced.
Cologne at 8.00 am was a memorable sight. The railway station was like a 1940s refugee film. The platform was so deep with people. Would we travel beyond Cologne? But any chance of possible despair was immediately abated as the efficient German Railways had organised a fleet of coaches to transport passengers without reserved seats from Cologne to Brussels. An interesting motorway journey followed. The suburbs of Cologne, the E40 motorway and the entrance to Brussels were all dense with traffic. Time was ticking, the ferry would not wait! Our schedule was extended by well over an hour but fortune smiled upon us – we caught a train immediately from Brussels to Bruges.
We indulged in Belgian chips and then took the final taxi ride to Zeebrugge port – three hours to spare! We could really relax both before embarkation and on board. The sea was a millpond; the shower in the cabin was bliss and the bunk the most comfortable imaginable. We were nearing our destination – home. Hull to Newcastle was remarkably routine and then the final surprise. We were three days overdue at the car park at Newcastle airport. What were to be the penalty charges? Zero! The parking company were waiving charges on all travellers caught by the volcanic dust: a truly generous gesture. We would definitely use their company again.
And our reflections? The journey home was much more memorable (and scenic) than the journey there. The comradeship was significantly greater and the food more interesting. The additional cost while unplanned was significantly less than those reported for many people similarly stranded. I just wonder whether my former colleagues and friends in the Diocese had known something that we did not know!
Would we do it again? Yes, but the next time we would plan to go by ferry, train and coach and plan for it to be part of the holiday. You meet such a lovely cross section of people.
And by the way, Rome was truly lovely! We might even go again but by train or coach.