Getting to Cessole

The hike to Cessole (Chess Olay, because mispronunciations can land you in another city) was longer than expected. We left our hostel at 8am, hoping to catch one of the two buses that departed for Acqui Terme from Milan each day. Lugging our luggage up and down the stairs to the subway was not the best part of the day. In fact, at one point, I turned to Michelle and told her that I know I will be glad I packed fun and dressy clothes when we visit Greece or go to Rome, but this was not a time to be glad about the extra weight.

Well, the bus station is outside the subway stop and has no sort of operator or cashier person to assist. Most of the bus drivers speak Italian, which is great because that's their language, and only Italian, which is not great for me. I know how to ask a question with no verbs and only key words ("Bus a Cessole?"), and that's exactly what I did. Every driver told me the same thing: no one knew what time the bus left, but they all knew which bus went to Cessole. Wouldn't you know that when Michelle checked out the bus sign, only one bus leaves for Acqui Terme each day, which is not what we found on the internet? And of course it leaves at 6:40pm. It was ok, though, because a nice guy who was nervous about his English told us that the train leaves pretty often from the train station. We only wasted 45 minutes there. No problem.

We got back on the subway. With our heavy bags. (Did I mention Michelle has a cold?) We hiked right back up the green line to four stops away from our hostel, wouldn't you know. The train station was full of people waiting in line. Important note: in many places where you need assistance in Italy (stores, train stations, I'll let you know when I come across more), you must take a ticket in order to be helped. If you just wait in line for half an hour and get to the counter without a ticket, you must go back to the automated machine, take your ticket, and wait again. Long story short: we got on a train at 1:25pm.

We arrived in Acqui Terme just after 4pm, but the next bus going to Cessole didn't depart until 6pm. I got a cappuccino and cannoli for 2.50 euro (a very good price!) while we waited at the train station bar. Some fun events happened in that town this summer, including salsa and country dancing, according to some flyers left on the walls in the bar. I thought it was neat to know that small-town Italy encourages community events like we do in the States.

When we stepped onto the bus, we told the bus driver we were headed to Cessole. Could you guess that he didn't stop at Cessole? Apparently bus riders are supposed to stand and tell the driver where they want off, even though we heard no one say a word to the driver the whole time. The kid who got off at the next town over with us kind of shrugged when I asked him how the driver was supposed to know that people wanted off his bus. He told us that the next bus didn't arrive until tomorrow, so we were out of luck as far as getting back to Cessole by bus. No worries. I had a Tim phone with tons of minutes on it (which I purchased in Milan because the phone I bought in Morocco and was planning on using with an Italian SIM card in Italy was locked and could only be used with a Moroccan SIM card in Morocco). By 7:30, Pia was there to pick us up, and she laughed at us and said, "You have to tell the driver you want off the bus!"

Hazelnut Trees

What a day! Everyone--five other WWOOFers, Pia, Mauro, their two boys, and the guests who were there for a wine tasting--welcomed us with open arms. I'll be sure to tell you all about our work on the farm and the characters here in future posts. Arrivederci!