Frankenstein Sundae, 149

Leaving Geneva, Switzerland, to pursue the Shelleys in Italy ...

The next day—April 22, 1999—I was on the train, racing along the shore of Lake Geneva (as I wrote in my journal), thinking about how in some ways it looked like Yellowstone Lake, which, of course, does not have the city of Geneva sitting on its shores. I commented, too, about the beauty of the day (cursing my luck: Why didn’t I have this day at Chamonix!?). And on I rolled toward Italy, where the Shelleys had gone with such hopes early in 1818. Such vain hopes …

My first stop (a quick one to change trains): Milan, where I nearly got on the wrong one. (My ignorance of the Italian language biting me for the first time.) And then Bologna, which had a McDonald’s in the depot. And then Florence, where, as I wrote in my journal later that day, I was a little shaken. Here’s what happened, pretty much as I wrote it then, an account of a wee “adventure” when I stepped off the train:

I headed the wrong way out of the station (which is front? which is back?), and by the time I figured out I’d erred, I was in a [full streaming sweat], back at the station, in a crowd. A gypsy woman approached me—feigning the sale of cloth; I knew she was picking my pocket—and she did! I yelled at her, “Get away! Get away! No!” Then she offered me my own passport for $, indicating I’d dropped it. A sly smile. I grabbed it—& fortunately saw [virtually right in front of me] the Hotel Roma & signed in. … And so there are lessons to be learned: Avoid close contact; keep valuables even more secure; get a better city map than the one in my Michelin Guide; carry passport in inside pocket—keep jacket zipped in close contact & keep hand on wallet. 

It was the oddest thing (though oddest is far too pale a word): I saw her coming; I knew she was going to pick my pocket; she still slipped my passport out of my front pants pocket without my feeling a thing. And, as I said, I was “shaken,” so, feeling sorry for myself, I hung out in my room awhile, then recovering somewhat (oh, the buoyancy I could so quickly recover in 1999!), I took my camera and headed outside on a beautiful day to photograph one of the world’s most remarkable cities.