And Outside The Rain Fell...

Arriving into the University town of Koblenz, we were engulfed in thick fog all around. Students streamed in and out of the station, and we had a helping of Yoghurt and fruits to kick off morning.

Walking down into the streets looking for the Rhine, we came across some of the most elaborate graffiti I’ve witnessed on the walls of an underpass.

We could hardly spot the bank of the river amidst the fog, and expected the Rhine river cruise to be quite a lull if the fog did not lift. The cruise was to take us down the river Rhine to Rudelshiem. The journey onwards mostly was fog, until the sun suddenly peeped out around 11 and the beautiful countryside came out in its full splendour. The castles, small and originally intended to collect toll, were built by thieving barons and bishops, from what was then the busiest waterway in the world, now looked rather decrepit with time.

Eventually, the Rhine river ceased to be used for transport by the shipping companies due to the extremely high tolls by the feudal lords, which marked the beginning of their decline. Today, most of them own vineyards, acres of them, and almost all of them have ropeways to the top. Cruising along on this almost historic waterway was obscenely boring, except when the castles popped up in the hills dotting the river. The castles were beautiful, picture perfect with their gun turrets and their towers, their fortifications and vineyards all along the hill slopes. The little idyllic towns along the side were just that – little and idyllic, with an occasional church spire towering above in the sky. Too bad mist covered most of it for good photography. The cruise was at a snail's pace, and weirdly (Mondays being half price for senior citizens) we were surrounded by people over 65, the average age probably scrapping 75! Drifting off into sleep between the “ooooh” and “ammmphs” marking a new castle spotted; the cruise was, in retrospect fun.

The trouble began when we realized our cruise was late, we were misinformed about the timings, and more importantly, we might miss our connecting train to Paris. Being in Paris tomorrow was terribly important; we had classes we couldn't miss.

We reached Rudelshiem at 3.15, running about looking for the station. Spotting tracks by the river, we ran along it, eventually spotting a train at the station. Not wanting to go all around the entrance, the four of us jumped in tandem, spiked bars notwithstanding, across the fence, running across to the shutting train doors. The checker immediately opened the door again, and he did not understand a word of English. Life was harsh, and we did not know if the train would take us to Frankfurt. Our connecting train to Paris at 4.50 pm, and the next train out of this station at 4.10, we were doomed to miss this train. Hungry since morning, feeling wretched, tired, and without a way to get back to Paris, we tried every combination to get to Frankfurt in time. But the soonest we could get there was 5.40, far too late. Worse still, Tards would be catching the train from Frankfurt (and we were to join him there), his phone wasn't reachable and there was absolutely no way we could reach him.

Frustrated and looking for a way out, the only option was to get to Frankfurt and take the Paris train at 7.10, shelling out another 15 Euros and assuming the reservation counters remained open.

We did exactly that, again having to catch a connecting train to get to Frankfurt - this time under a minute (you can imagine it as a comedy - four chaps with heaving baggage, running madly across platforms, trying to get our legs in before the doors to the train closed. My pant too was falling off, so I had one hand on my belt, one on my bag, a jacket on my forearm, another bag on another forearm and a backpack at the back). Getting in just in time, we couldn't stop laughing at what was transpiring.

A perfect day gone all wrong.

Reaching Frankfurt at 5.40, navigating our way to the reservation counter and getting a Queue number of 27, we began designating duties- one hunts for vegetarian food, two guys stand for reservations, and another looks for alternate booking ways.

We heaved a sigh of relief when we got our reservations on the 7pm train, and feasted on huge Falafels at 3.50 Euros a piece. We met the rest of the ESCP gang in the same train, and the day finally was back to normal.

Only it had to get better. Tards messaged, we met the train ticket checker who had been informed of us missing our train and with a big smile sympathized with our situation. Watching the French SCNF(The French rail company) and the Deutsche Bahn(the German rail company) checkers discuss our predicament and decide to refund our 15 Euros was quite a sight. I sheepishly was murmuring Danke and Merci under the same breath.

Everything suddenly sorted out, we relaxed, caught up on lost conversations with others from ESCP and settled down comfortably into our ICE Train, cruising along at 180km/hr. I spoke to the people I love most, and drifted off to sleep yet again.

A mighty 4 day stubble, soiled clothes, unkempt hair and 12 days of unadultered madness. Eurotrip had begun in style. And how.