For the most part, our trip to Ptuj went smooth. The kids were great on the train ride and had a great time once we were there. They were even perfectly fine at the parade, which was surprising given the costumes and noise. The weather was nice, our hotel was nice, the people we met were nice.
But, a trip to Ptuj wouldn’t be a trip to Ptuj without us doing something dumb along the way.
We arrived early at the train station on Friday, met some friends, Don and Cindy, who were joining us for the trip (and who the kiddos absolutely adore), found our train, and got ourselves and our bags and strollers on board. As we were boarding, Rosetta, who is always good for a one-liner, said, “Mommy, do you see any trains?” So far, so good.
Two-and-a-half hours later, we rolled into Ptuj. Being naïve tourists, we expected to have a few minutes to get ourselves off the train when we stopped. Not the case. The train stops just long enough that if you’re standing at the door with your luggage when it stops, you might be able to get yourself and some of your luggage off the train before it takes off again.
So, the train stopped, we got the kids and our bags off, I stepped back on the train to grab the strollers…and the doors shut and the train started moving. Chantelle, the kids, and our bags are on a train platform in Ptuj, and I’m headed to Hungary with the strollers. Fantastic. Fortunately, Chantelle got the conductor’s attention and he stopped the train. I literally threw the strollers off and jumped off myself. Lesson learned, disaster avoided.
But…we still had a train ride home to mess up. And we took full advantage.
We got to the Ptuj train station early Saturday evening and we were going to have our ducks in a row this time for getting our bags, our strollers, and ourselves on board. However, somewhere in the middle of carrying our bags and strollers down the steps to the tunnel and then up the steps to the platform, we left one of our bags behind. And it was Chantelle’s. Don’t ask me how because we only had two duffel bags (yes, that means that Chantelle had one duffel bag and the kiddos and I had another), but we didn’t realize it until we were boarding. Don jumped off the train and ran down the steps to see if it was in the tunnel to no avail.
So, there we were, on our way home, assuming Chantelle’s bag was gone for good. Chantelle was trying to figure out how to replace everything in her bag, I was trying to figure out how to add one more item to the vast inventory of screw-ups I’ll be reminded about until the day I die.
Again, we were fortunate (apparently all of Grandma’s prayers are saving us from ourselves)…The train conductor came and told us our bag was in the Ptuj office – someone had found it and brought it there – and they would put it on the train to Ljubljana in the morning. Phew.
But, of course, it wasn’t quite that simple. The train arrived in the morning, there was no sign of the bag, and I couldn’t find a conductor who spoke English to ask about it. And the train was about to leave again, maybe with our bag on it. I ran up and down the platform like a lunatic until I finally asked a gentleman who turned out to be the Ljubljana station agent…he asked the conductors and they told him the bag was still in Ptuj because they weren’t sure what to do with it. So, I went with the station agent to his office, he made a phone call to Ptuj, and he assured me that it would be on the Sunday evening train. And it was. Lesson learned, disaster avoided...until next time.
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