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Took this panorama after hiking up Via Crucis (that’s where all the Golgata-style statues are placed as if to remind the weary climber to not complain, for at least you’re not hauling up a cross).

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As our stay on Sicily was coming to an end we were faced with the decision of how to best make our way across the narrow, and as a result maritime-traffic-wise somewhat busy, strait. It’s not that it was a navigational challenge, but we had options in terms of how to get to Messina, which is the port town on the Sicilian side, and from there ultimately to Reggio Calabria, which is situated a touch south on the toe of the geographic boot that is Italy.

Despite having logged a decent number of miles as a traveler so far in life and being armed with the knowledge that things usually work out if you have a credit card and a smart phone with a local SIM, I was uneasy with the fact that we didn’t have a committed plan with pre-bought tickets. So, in an attempt to minimize possibilities where we would have to be responsible for obscure connections, I found a Trenitalia combo ticket that would get us from Taormina to Reggio with only one simple change to a regional train in Villa San Giovanni. I did not however not anticipate the blow-out that resulted from this.

When attempting to buy this ticket from the clerk in the magnificent Taormina railway station, I was greeted with a response so incredulous it bordered on hostile. He (rightfully, I realized, sheepishly, afterwards) thought my plan to hitch a short ride on the IC (Inter-City) train as it barreled north towards Rome what with the two hour delay to load the train on the old clunker of a ferry to detour via VSG was stupid to the point English was failing him. What I afterwards thought was interesting was that it essentially would be nothing to him if I spent more money to take a slower trip just so I didn’t have to make more connections and improvise by having to find out where ferry tickets are bought and then figure out how to board the ferry. Despite that, he took it upon himself to muster enough emotion in his response to convince me that there was a better way.

I don’t expect that he will remember me, but I will surely and fondly remember him because he taught me something fundamental about short-distance travel in unfamiliar parts: With a known destination and a rough idea of the transportation options, don’t require everything to be lined up in advance. Such plans are bound to be brittle and the premium you may end up paying to remove or reduce a modicum of uncertainty yields a poor return in addition to robbing you of valuable travel experience. Perhaps it’s similar to golfing in an obscure way: Golfers need to know where the green is, sure, but they have to hit the ball from where it lies; you can’t plan all the strokes in advance and expect it all go according to plan.

 

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