Skipping Town

Patrizia's hostel has 3 sleeping areas. A "dorm" with 3 beds. A "private" room with 2 beds. And a "wtf" room, which is a bed in the living room, opposite a couch, which probably gets sold as a bed, as well.

Originally, Patrizia had tried to put me on the bed in the living room. I said no because there was no place to lock up my bags. So she put me in the dorm room with an Aussie couple.

When I got in late that night, I told them I would sleep in the living room, since no one was there. They said that it was just the 3 of us, so I might as well see if the room next door is open. It was, so that is where I slept.

The next morning Patrizia came in. When she saw that I had taken the private room she flipped out. Yelling at me in Italian and English, she says that a couple had tried to come in very late, saw that I was in the bedroom, and left, renting a room from somebody else instead.

This did not happen.

My points of proof: 1) The trains don't run that late. Unless these travelers have a car (extremely unlikely), there would be no way to reach Riomaggiore after 10:30pm. I got in at 12:30am. 2) Except for the bar, the town is completely shut down by 10pm. There would have been no one else to rent a room from. 3) I'm a light sleeper. I did not hear anyone come in. Nor did the Aussies.

Patrizia is a liar, and she was trying to intimidate me into paying 50 euros for this fictitious couple.

After she left, the Aussies and I agreed that the best thing to do is leave without checking out and submitting to her demands. She didn't have my name or passport information, so skipping town without consequence seemed entirely possible.

There are two ways to get to the train station. The direct route down the hill and past her office. Or the back route, involving some steep hills and stairs. I decided to take the back route. It made me sick having to sneak out of this beautiful town, as if I was committing some crime.

The Cinque Terre is so beautiful (and I've only seen it in the rain). But a town, no matter how beautiful, is nothing without good people. If I hadn't met some fun locals the night before, Patrizia might have permanently tarnished my image of the Cinque Terre. As it is, I would still like to go back someday.

The 20 minutes I had to wait at the train station in Riomaggiore were the longest 20 minutes of my life. I kept expecting to see a wild-eyed Patrizia come running around the corner with the polizia. Thankfully, that didn't happen, and I am now several hours south in Napoli.

Travel lesson number 2: Follow the rules, dot your i's and cross your t's with the Italians. Mine isn't the only story. They're not above making a big show of emotion to make you feel like you owe them something. Like whatever insignificant thing is going to cause the entire space time continuum to unravel, throw our planet out of orbit, and cause the sun to explode.

A little perspective, please.