Friday, June 15, 2018
Neu-Ulm is not Ulm. I had a hunch but Rob had to find out the hard way and left me stranded. Or I left him stranded. I suppose you could look at it either way.
Neu-Ulm is not Ulm. I had a hunch but Rob had to find out the hard way and left me stranded. Or I left him stranded. I suppose you could look at it either way.
We returned to the train station on Thursday to buy tickets for the next day, Friday. Train fare to Donaueshingen, for a train leaving at 9:30 in the morning, was 66 euros, including our bikes, for both of us. That was with no reservation, first-come-first-served, and if there wasn’t enough room on the train for our bikes we’d have to wait for the next one, or the one after that. Sure sounded like a lot of built-in uncertainty. But the price was right.
“Could we get a
ticket for an earlier time?” I asked the young woman selling us our tickets.
She checked. “That would cost twice as much.” A reservation was also much more
expensive.
“I’m sure you won’t have a problem,” she said. “It isn’t the
summer holiday yet and you’ll be early enough to avoid the weekend travellers.”
We would have to change trains in Ulm.
“Will we have enough time?” I asked. If I couldn't worry about the train having enough room for our bicycles I'd worry about making our connection.
“You have 45 minutes,” she said. “That’s plenty of time.”
She explained that we should look for the car with a bicycle
on it. And that we should get on the cars at the back of the train because the
first cars would stop sooner than Ulm.
We bought our tickets. But even with her assurances I
thought about all that could go wrong. We wouldn’t get a place on the train.
We’d miss the connection in Ulm.
Nothing I worried could happen did. And what did happen was completely outside my visual field of anxiety.
We arrived at the station before nine o’clock the next morning, with plenty of time to wait for the train. I kept an eye out for other
bicyclists who might beat us on board and take over all the available bicycle
spots. I really had no idea how the bicycles would be transported. Would they
go into a cargo space specially designed for bikes? The ticket seller had told
us that we would board with our bikes so maybe not.
The train pulled in and we found a car with a bicycle symbol
on it and made sure that the sign said it was going to Ulm.
We were among the first to board. There were a couple of rows of seats that folded up to make room for strollers, wheelchairs, and bicycles. I parked mine behind the restroom and right in front of two seats Rob and I would sit in. Rob parked his along the side of the car, close to the door. The location of our bicycles turned out to be an important detail for what transpired as we approached Ulm.
We’d always heard that the trains in Germany are on time
and this one did leave right on schedule. We relaxed, looked out the window,
read a little, ate the sandwiches we’d brought along. We couldn’t understand a
word of anything that was announced, except that none of the stops were Ulm and
it was too early for that anyway.
We were among the first to board. There were a couple of rows of seats that folded up to make room for strollers, wheelchairs, and bicycles. I parked mine behind the restroom and right in front of two seats Rob and I would sit in. Rob parked his along the side of the car, close to the door. The location of our bicycles turned out to be an important detail for what transpired as we approached Ulm.
Rob's bicycle. He had a straight shot down an aisle (to the right in the picture) and out the door. |
My bike. I had to get around the corner to get out. |
Then, after a few hours, we heard “New Ulm,” and Rob said, “That’s our stop.”
I looked at my watch. We still had some minutes to go. We didn't have our map out, but maybe
New Ulm was before Ulm. I said, “Why don’t you check and make sure it looks
like a main station.”
I don’t think Rob heard me. He unstrapped his bike and as
soon as the train stopped he wheeled it down the aisle and got off. I looked
out the window and saw a couple other tracks so I thought, “Okay, we’re here.”
First I had to put a couple things in my pannier. I wasn’t
that far behind Rob but before I could get off the train, a very large man with
a white cane who was talking loudly and had a middle-aged man and woman
accompanying him, blocked my way. At first I thought, they’ll see me and let me
off, I don’t want to be rude to this man who obviously has a disability. But
when I said, “Excuse me,” the male companion said, “Can’t
you see this man is blind? You need to wait.” I waited and watched as the large
man ambled into the aisle waving his cane back and forth, pulled down one of the collapsible
seats and sat down, completely blocking my exit.
And then the doors closed and the train started to move, and
every nerve in my body fired a note of panic. “My husband got off the train and you wouldn’t let me
off!” and the woman said, “Look, your man is off the train.” And the man said,
“It’s no problem. You just get on your bicycle. It’s only one or two
kilometers.”
Right. Like it was that easy. Like I would know the way and Rob
would know I was coming. I said, “I told you I
needed to get off the train. You wouldn’t let me get off!”
The man said, “You should have been at the door.”
The woman said, “You can call him.”
“His phone doesn’t work,” I said. Even though our phone
carrier had assured us that Rob’s phone would work, it
didn’t, and we hadn't figured we'd need it. We'd obviously figured wrong.
I thought, these people should offer to help me in some way.
But they didn’t. When the train stopped at the next station - which was Ulm - just a few minutes later, the
woman said, “Get on the next train and meet your man.”
I had no idea what I was going to do. Should I get on the train and go back to Neu-Ulm? Should I leave my bicycle or bring it with me? Would Rob
know to wait for me? What should I do? Should I bicycle to Neu-Ulm? Or should I
wait right where I was? And how would we ever make our connection to
Donaueschingen? I had no idea what to do. I was angry and worried and upset and before I started crying I wanted someone who could speak English to come and help me sort this out. But I was all alone. I needed my husband.
I pushed my bicycle into the station, thankfully not as big as
the one we’d left in Munich. Still, plenty of people were milling around in front of the
information booth that was just inside the door. I went up to it, and tried to look very much
like someone in distress so I could cut the line without anyone getting too
upset with me. I must have succeeded because no one yelled at me when I went
right up to the first woman who was free. “Sprechen Sie Englisch?”
She pointed to the woman sitting next to her. I pulled my
bicycle over and said, panic in my voice, “My husband got off at the wrong
station. He’s in Neu-Ulm. Is there any way you can call there?”
“There are no phones there. He could take the next train. It
will be here at 12:04.” Our connecting train left at 12:15. We might still make
it, if Rob knew to get on that train.
I looked at my watch. Fifteen minutes. I was too restless to
sit down. I checked the board and noticed that the train to Donaueschingen left
from a different track. We’d have to carry our bikes down a flight of stairs. While
I waited hundreds of scenarios ran through my head. Would Rob figure out that
he was at the wrong station and get on the next train? Or would he try to
bicycle here? Would he stay there thinking that I would come to him? No matter
what, I was going to stay exactly where I was, in front of the information booth.
Because I was in the right place. But did Rob know that?
I pictured our situation as a scene in a movie, the train station emptying out at the end of the day and me waiting for Rob in front of the information booth as darkness settled around me. And Rob, in New-Ulm, waiting for me, both of us convinced we were in the right place, waiting for the other, neither of us wanting to make a move. What a nightmare.
I was loaded with adrenaline and needed to do something but there was nothing I could do. Except wait for the next train from Neu-Ulm. And not think about what I would do if Rob wasn't on it. I kept checking the clock as if my watching it would make the time go by faster. I sat down and then stood up. I walked out to the train platform and then came back inside.
I pictured our situation as a scene in a movie, the train station emptying out at the end of the day and me waiting for Rob in front of the information booth as darkness settled around me. And Rob, in New-Ulm, waiting for me, both of us convinced we were in the right place, waiting for the other, neither of us wanting to make a move. What a nightmare.
I was loaded with adrenaline and needed to do something but there was nothing I could do. Except wait for the next train from Neu-Ulm. And not think about what I would do if Rob wasn't on it. I kept checking the clock as if my watching it would make the time go by faster. I sat down and then stood up. I walked out to the train platform and then came back inside.
I went back to the information booth, back to the woman who
spoke English. “Are you sure there is no one in Neu-Ulm with a phone?” I wanted
a different answer this time. But I didn’t get one.
“There is no one at that station,” she assured me. Great.
I walked back onto the platform where the train had dropped
me off, then realized I didn’t even know if the next train from Neu-Ulm would
be coming on that track. I went back inside the station and sat down in one of the
chairs. I checked the time. It was a
few minutes after noon. I got up and went back out to the train track.
A train pulled in and people began disembarking. I saw
someone come from down the track pushing a bicycle. But it
wasn’t Rob. More people got off. And the heavy flow of people disembarking slowed to a trickle and no one was my husband. Dejected, and worrying about what
to do now, I began walking back inside with my bicycle. Then, I heard,
“Connie!”
And there he was, coming from a ways down the track, pushing his bicycle. I yelled, “Quick! We can still
catch our train!”
I'm glad you were able to connect back up with Rob, but you would have enjoyed Ulm if you were stranded there for a day or two. It's a beautiful city!
ReplyDeleteWhat a cliffhanger........
ReplyDelete