It was a fine Sunday morning during the
last semester of my college life when I was busy with my preparations for my
job interviews to somehow score a good government job (though the hopes were
not at all high). I was already recruited by a company which I wanted to be in
but my parents were disappointed by that choice. They wished me to get a job in
public sector company a.k.a. PSU ( the government-run companies). Then there
was the final-year project report submission which which was also giving me a
big head ache. There had not been much significant progress in my final year
project on robotics, so, though I had got well trained during all those years
of mine in college, in the art of somehow completing assigned tasks at the
eleventh hour (the concomitant induced habit was to always procrastinate till
the eleventh hour), it was the eleventh hour, and was not able to figure out an
escape plan, a plan ot get the report completes in time. I was browsing through
the net in an attempt to get material to fill up my report with, when I
received an email from someone on the behalf of the World Academy for Science,
Engineering and Technology (WASET) informing me that my submitted paper had
been selected for their upcoming conference in Italy and I was invited to give
a brief presentation regarding my work. That was really a joyful moment, but
that joy died even before I could run to my friend who lived in the next room
in the hostel and yell out how excited I was.
Just a couple of months before I received
this invitation, I got an opportunity to work in a professor's team form Poznan University (Poland) which was working on mobile robotics during the winter
vacation. But my parents refused to allow me to go there saying that the
winters in Poland are more than harsh and no way could they allow me to face
that severe weather, how academically beneficial this project might be. II got
more than depressed by their decision. It seemed like a huge devastation for my
aim to pursue a career in robotics. I worked on my research in college,
half-heartedly, and same way prepared for the exams that followed. And...I
performed really bad in the semester exams but somehow managed to submit a
paper on my research work for an international conference. Now, I had this
invitation with my paper being selected for publication in the conference
proceedings. I suddenly felt no reason to be happy as I was almost sure that
since the winters are not over, no way my parents will ever be ready to send me
to another European Country (...how academically beneficial the this might be).
A day later I told my sister about it. She
congratulated me but with the compliment "...but I don't think parents
will allow you to go there..."! Wow, what a reassuring compliment. That
evening I got a call form my dad and he inquired about this Italian
"Conference Thing". I just told that these people seemed to be in a
mood to publish my paper but wanted me to come to their place for a
presentation. Next question.. "so .. who will accompany you there? "
...no one ... I was the sole person from my institute who got his paper
selected for that. "Who will be there to receive you?" ... How can I
know.. as far as I knew about students attending international conferences, they
themselves had to find their way and manage everything from travelling to
accommodation to arranging money for funding the tour. "Where will you
stay and for how many days??" ...if I am not going there.. am I supposed
to get bothered by such ... unrealistic... details. And the call ended. Next
morning, it was my mom who called when I was on my way to my class, and what
she said.. was not at all ... believable "Son, when id your conference, I
think you should attend it!" ... I told my mom to call me back after few
minutes, ran back to my room, read the invitation e-mail again, mugged up all
minute details of the event and call my mom back. And there were the same
questions form her which were asked by my dad earlier...but ...my answers were
all brand new... "Going there.. alone.. no way!! yes.. many Indians are
there.. whom I will be meeting at the airport .. if I get the chance to be at
the airport and make this journey". "Certainly there will be someone
to receive me there mom, its an international conference and I am on the
invited guests".".......just three days two nights... there are so
many hostels near by.. quite cheap.. certainly affordable..(I was able to find
a cheap dorm in Florence where they just orivide you bed and NOTHING else for
13 euros)... even I heard they serve Indian Food"....I was almost about to
burst out laughing when I made that last statement. Then came the verdict,
"Okay.. so start the preparations, and tell us how much it gonna
cost".
After the call, I sat for a moment, to make
myself belief that it was really my mom and that my parents have finally agreed
to send me. After I was sure that it was not a dream. I pulled up a new tab in
the browser and searched "Make My trip ... Florence.. Mumbai ...
AirFares"(Make My Trip is website quite known in India for booking air
tickets)! A figure of INR 50,000 came up for a to-and-fro journey and my jaws
dropped. Then "Florence Mumbai India Italy trip cheap tour deals"
...and after such random and ridiculous google searches, I finally found out a
miraculous deal, Quatar airlines had a scheduled flight with a round trip
ticket pricing INR26000 on the day just before my conference, from Mumbai to
Milan via Bahrain. I then stumbled upon a post by a guy replying to
someone's query in a forum regarding travelling in Italy, where he said that a
7 Euro bus ticket was all one needed to go from Milan to Florence and can stay
in affordable dorms for as low as 13 euros per night. So that was it. My
itinerary for the tour was ready. I called up my parents "Dad... yes the
Flight is till Florence but will go via Milan and Bahrain... yes there most
probably will be a bus at the Florence Airport to pick me up and take me to the
venue of conference ... Ohh..no no..the dorm is very near to that venue..and I
have booked a bed for three nights." So there I got my money for the
flight ticket form parents, got the funding for conference registration from
college and there I was all ready to apply for my VISA and get the tickets
done.
The days that followed were a bit hectic
but my enthusiasm and zeal charged me up beyond any levels that could be bogged
down by hectic schedules or cumbersome official works. I got some foreign
currency, 300 euros for the three days trip seemed sufficient, got the tickets
...to Milan in reality...but to Florence as per my parents..and my visa. I took
the flight from Mumbai where my parents stay, and before leaving they give me
mobile phone with international calling facility. So on 26th February 2012, I
bade adieu to parents and started the journey from the Mumbai International
Airport. I reached Bahrain at 8pm local time and had to catch teh next flight
to Milan after two hours. Everything seemed fine but still for those entire two
hours I kept thinking again and again about what could possibly go wrong. I had
my tickets, I had checked bus services between Milan and Florence, I had got a
bed in a shared dormitory booked for me, and there was a print out of the
google map showing the path from Airport to the Conference Venue. It might have
been the usual apprehension of a first time international traveler. At
9:15pm passengers for the flight to Florence started queuing up after the
announcement for the start of boarding.A Quatar Airlines employee was checking
the boarding passes and visas of the passengers before allowing them to
board the bus to the plane. When it was my turn. the employee looked at my visa
stamp and suddenly his looked from the practiced professional smile to a
doubtful stern look. After a minute, he asked me to step aside and babbled
something in some apparent Arabic Language in his walkie-talkie.There came some
black-suited guys (and I got reminded of CIA, I dont know why , may be because
of my overdose of Hollywood thrillers ). They asked me to follow them to a room.
And that was the point when I felt my heartbeat fastening. I was getting
scared.
That room was a usual room where a man who
seemed in his early 60s asked me to handover my passport to him. He took out an
eyepiece and started examining my visa. I did nt like the way that guy suddenly
raised brows and let the eye piece drop after examining my visa. He got up and
left locking the door behind him. Suddenly I started feeling being locked up in
some interrogation room by some secret service agents (again Hollywood thriller
movies' overdose can be thought to be the reason). And there came the sense of
guilt. "Why I had to lie to my parents, it happened because I lied. If I
get out of this dilemma.. God... I promise.. I never gonna lie again to them..
NEVER... promise.. Help me .. God!".. when I was wondering how efficient
were these repentance prays of mine...the man with eye piece..returned.. gave
my passport back and said, "Sir..we were just checking whether your
luggage was right or not. Now we will take you to the Flight in our
car"....and I was like "So it was really like a Hollywood movie...
Govt agents fooling the victim with some cover up story ...worse then lullaby
for kindergarten kids." But when I was escorted to the flight in a Land
Rover... I had no more qualms about the events that just took place.
So I finally reached Milan's Malpensa
Airport at 6am on 27th February 2012. I exited the international terminus,
entered a cafe near the exit gate, grabbed a coffee and started making my plans
ahead. "I have to catch a bus to Florence. But where is the bus terminus
and how to get there?"..when I was thinking about all these, I saw a bus
stopping near the exit gate, the driver got down, entered the cafe and joined
some other guys after buying his coffee. I went to him and said "How can I
get a bus from Milan to Florence?". Everyone at that table gave me blank
stares. It took me few moments to realize that its Italy where all speak
...only ..and only Italiano. So I said in Italian (that I tried to learn from
some online courses while preparing for my journey)"Caio ... bus...
Firencze ..Milano ...dove...Oggi" (Hi... Florence.. Milan ..where
..today). They laughed..said something in Italian, and one of them pulled me
and made me sit next to him. I just managed to smile back and kept drinking my
coffee. After all of them were done telling their own responses to my query and
after finding I am not getting even a single of those words, they decided to
leave and pull me along. Somehow I managed to understand that they want me to
board the same bus that one of that had parked near the gate. On the bus,
"Stazione di Milano" was written beside a pic of a train engine. I
told teh driver"Bus.. no .. station..no train.. Firenze bus". He
nodded and told me to take a seat. I just assumed there mught be a bis stop
near the station and got in the bus.
After arriving at the station, I went to
an inquiry centre. To my utter astonishment and to my pleasant relief, I found
the woman sitting there quite able to speak in English. But after asking where
to get a bus to Florence, I got a reply which was more devastating then being
pulled out by Bahraini officials. That lady said that since its winter season.
the road routes are not quite suitable so only mean to get to Florence is via
train or plane, and that trains tickets of the first class were only available
which could be bought for .......JUST ....254 euros. I had JUST.. 295 bucks (5
euros for the Bus ride to station)... I finally bought the ticket ...and as I
proceeded towards the platform... came back the same feeling of guilt....
"How I had to lie.... God... never again... just save this time! ..But
even God cant help me survive here in this European city with mere 40
euros!!!!" I boarded the train and I have to confess it was one the best
train bogies I had ever seen in my life. But the more I got mesmerized by the
luxury of that train coach, the more I got scared about the impending
catastrophe. The light hum of the pacing train lulled me to a nap and I woke up
only after the man a person who seemed like a train official came to check my
tickets and told me that Florence gonna arrive in minutes.
I got down at Florence. The city I had so
many times dreamed to visit, the city that was traversed by Ezio Auditore di Firenze
in one of my favorite games "Assassin's Creed", the city of the
Medicis, the city of Leonardo da Vinci, the feeling could have been much much
more lovely would I have not been left out with just 40 bucks to survive
and attend a conference for three days.I might have again got back in the
"feeling-guilty" mode while standing at that station but then came an
American guy asking me for directions about the hotel to which I too was
supposed to go and confirm my attendance for the conference. The guy was fed up
of asking the people around who were not at all able to grasp his queries in
English which to them was jibber-jabber. I took out my google-maps print out,
partnered with the American guy and instead of stewing too much about me being
broke, decided to just think it to be yet another adventurous episode of my
life. Well I did nt turn out to be a very good map-decipherer but I resorted to
"sign-language" and started asking the people around. I dont know how
stupid I might have been looking while asking people about a river that flows
near by at the bank of which there was the hotel. The American guy went to the
extent of taking out his bottle and and spilling water hoping it might help.
But it didn't. So we went to a cafe, opened google translator, got Italian
translations for some common questions that could help us find our ways, and
then left. And that was the thing that helped. With many 'sinistra..destra
..ditto".. ('Left ...Right..Straight) and lots of hand gestures, we
finally found the hotel.
I seriously still cant recall where the
American Guy got lost while I was waiting at the reception desk for the
receptionist. While waiting, I was making estimates about the upcoming
expenses. I had to pay 13 euros for a night for staying at the dormitory.
"Three nights .... 39 euros.. and I will be left with just one
Euro!!!!"... "One Euro.... three nights.... I may survive if I go on
a fast for that time"...When I was making all those estimates and thinking
about ways to face the apparent apocalypse, there came the receptionist, asked
me my name in astonishingly fluent English, checked the invited peoples' list
and confirmed, and finally said the most reliving words I had ever heard at any
of my direst moments, "Sir, we will be serving complimentary breakfast,
lunch and evening snacks to all the attendees..and you are welcome to choose
any of the delicacies that we will be putting up on the menu for the
event".
There was food, I had money for shelter, so "yesss.... .I
will make it.. I will survive.... in Florence", I told myself, then
thanked the receptionist who seemed bewildered by my huge sigh of relief on
hearing about they serving food. I asked her for directions and finally made it
to my dorm. And when I was done settling down on my allotted bed, I was having
a more broader smile while lying down as the dormitory people had to take up
some unexpected maintenance task which was about to last for three days and
thus had to provide me a room for two at the same price.
