Today was a five-train day and the only thing that worried us, missing one of those connections, was not a worry.
The ride was pitch black on the 6:09 from Arles to Marseille, a beautiful sunrise on the 8:10 to Lyon, sunny skies on the 10:38 to Geneve, the sun set on the 13:39 to Milano, and then pitch black again on the 17:34 to Como. All were on time except the last which was 20' late, standing room only (in first class), and lacking any sort of stop announcements. The 2nd class Trenitalia from Geneve to Milano, the longest and most scenic stretch—mountains, vineyards, and pretty Swiss towns—felt more cramped than an airplane, with minimal legroom and little luggage space.
It was an exhausting day and I'm leaving out the embarrassing discovery I'd bought train tickets for the wrong date and the tale of how we lost our Como apartment keys which lead us to banging on the windows of the closed Carrefour market where we knew we'd left them. By the time we were settled into our apartment we were ready for a glass of wine. Or two.
