Lost and happy

We boarded the train after being told assuredly by a ticket inspector that it would take us to the same destination (Florence, Italy) as the one we missed. We had no choice but to believe him as we helplessly ogled at all the German words. Leaving Salzburg, Austria was bittersweet; we were enchanted by the town and our home-like hostels (hardwood floors and balcony included), but were jumping in our seats to explore Florence.

However, as the clock ticked on and the landscape grew mountainous and snowy, we began to question where the locomotive was going. Many stops later, our tickets were inspected. The puzzled conductor asked us where we wanted to be, and reluctantly informed us we were actually on our way to the final stop: Zurich, Switzerland. At first I was thrilled, but my joy was promptly deflated to the tune of the daunting $400 price tag due to our little mishap. The next obstacle: finding a hotel. With only two options, we picked the Welcome Inn.

We landed in the bustling Zurich train station and jumped on a tram to get to the hotel. Stepping off of the tram, we were welcomed by an endless cement walkway atop several lanes of highways that looked like a path to nowhere. We were alone in the ominous darkness. Because life has a sick sense of humor, it began to rain. Brimming with exhaustion, I dialed the hotel for directions. Upon hearing our whereabouts, the receptionist anxiously directed us to the nearest building, secured by gates and guards, stating that the hotel van would retrieve us there. We could only guess we were in the industrial part of the city.

Finally, we made our way to the Welcome Inn, whose beds, which eclipsed the hostel’s cot-like ones, fit the name. We roamed the streets scouting out food. What did we choose? A Chinese restaurant. Yes, you read that right. With stomachs full of lo mien, we settled in after our taxing day. As expected, chaos quickly ensued. Zap! After all the lights went out, we discovered we were using the wrong adapter. We told the front desk, who got the lights back on with ease. The next day, we boarded the correct train and landed in Florence in one piece. But I now more than ever want to visit Zurich.

This account may not offer a philosophical outlook, but I will leave you with three crucial pieces of advice: always buy the Eurail pass, never assume your adapter works just because it looks the same, and trek on, fellow travelers. You never know where you may end up.