The day I left Rome was not my lucky day. I woke up really early, and I had to get out of bed before I had a chance to fall back asleep, because my dad and I had to be at the train station early. He was off to the airport while I was headed to Perugia, the town where I would be taking Italian classes for a month.
After an unpleasantly cold shower and a quick cup of tea, we took a taxi to the station. I nearly missed my train, but I may as well have missed it, because my train never reached its destination, due to a strike in the Umbria and Le Marche regions. I got dropped off in Foligno instead and had to share a taxi with four other unfortunate commuters to reach Perugia.
However, with the time it took to organize the ride, I was an hour late to meet my landlord-to-be, and it cost me another 20 euros in taxi fare to find out that he was no longer at out meeting place. Of course, I hadn't thought of writing down his phone number so I couldn't contact him.
I had to switch to plan B – to stay in a hostel and try to contact my landlord later to apologize for not showing up. I arrived at the hostel just as they were closing down (apparently the hostel is locked down everyday from 11 to 3:30), but the lady let me leave my suitcase inside, and kindly showed me the way to the tourist information centre. I wandered a little around town while I waited for the hostel to open again.
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