Scorching heat and soggy feet: The difference a day makes.

It had been hot. Very hot. The rivulets of marble that teased their way through the plaza had shone bright white in the unrelenting sun. Light danced upon every reflective surface; gleaming spoons dipping into wells of ice-cream, winking camera lenses, and shimmering water as it tumbled and dashed playfully about the manes of the sculpted horses. Such was Rome in the depths of summer. With both regret and excitement Amy and I were leaving that evening on an overnight train to Austria. Our packs were fairly small, mainly shorts and light cropped trousers, a solitary pair of jeans that had seen us across the Channel. The cool air on the train was a welcome relief from the enduring heat and we embraced it gratefully. Despite the train’s attempts to keep us awake with its erratic rocking and too hard bunks, exhaustion overwhelmed us and we slept.
Arriving on the platform the air was cool. Our vibrantly coloured clothes seemed too bright against the muted greys of the concrete platform and dull sky. We waited nervously for our connecting train. The route was beautiful; dipping into valleys and creeping through tunnels carved into the rock face. Suddenly we were plunged into darkness – another tunnel. After a while we emerged and for a moment I imagined I was seeing fields of shining bright marble, but as flakes of white began to linger on the window, a cold feeling crept through my stomach. Mountains of white loomed on either side of the train, thick blankets of snow already settled about their roots. Slowly the train halted. An announcement came overhead and our fellow passengers looked disgruntled, beginning to gather their things. In a dream we followed. Knees quivering we trudged along the platform. From my limited German I established one thing – the train had been cancelled. Without much of an idea what to do next we saw a bus appear promptly outside the station. Our soaking trainers squelched as we pushed through the thick snow and onto the crowded bus; the other passengers surveyed us with amused faces. We set off, traversing the tiny, steep, winding roads thick with snow; the driver manoeuvring them fearlessly. Eventually, we arrived and we promptly changed into every piece of clothing we had before dashing wildly through the icy streets to our hostel. We were the only visitors, so we nestled into as many blankets as we could find and fell asleep, unaware that the laden clouds that were once more tucking us into their own blanket…