Notes from Udine Stazione, 31 October 2025...

It’s 0946 and I am sitting in a fairly crowded cafeteria. Already I have eaten an almond croissant and a mushroom pizza for breakfast and I’m now tucking in to filled pastry of some sort; I think it’s an apple pie. Last night, and no more than 500 yards from where I now sit, I was tucking in to a variation on a cheese and ham sandwich and by and large my diet has been this way ever since I arrived, ever since I set foot on Italian soil. So much for the Mediterranean Diet!

I’ve spent the last three nights in the Quo Vadis hotel, a good 15 minute walk from here and, while it was clean, that was its only redeeming feature. Everything else was rubbish so let’s start with the WiFi, it was non-existent. It ‘worked’  to a degree but not enough for me to use my computer, it was extremely slow. So slow it rendered everything pointless, everything, that is, to do with my computer, which I haven’t used since I got here. I might as well have left it at home and saved the energy of humping it here, there and everywhere.

Then there was the shower which, again, worked, but was little more than a dribble. I would have preferred a more powerful shower, put it that way. However, by far the most annoying aspect of the hotel was the lighting, which was on an energy-saving timer switch. I first realised this when I checked in and asked whether I could use the bathroom, it was virtually next door to the front desk (not always ideal). In I went, dying to go after drinking a bottle of Pellegrino on the train from Milano (see previous post). While mid-pee I was plunged into darkness and had to shake a leg in order to restore the light. It was something I would have to get used to as the entire hotel was using the same system. My room, room 31, was not in the main hotel, but in a spooky annexe across the road. There was a wrought iron gate that required a key card to gain entry; once through the gate, a small courtyard leading to another set of wrought iron doors and once through the doors there was blackness. I could see nothing until I danced a jig and the lights came on. I then humped my suitcase up the solid stone steps, being careful to hold on to the wrought iron banister on my right side but halfway up the stairs off went the lights and I was plunged once again into darkness. I had to dance again, not a strong point, and the light returned.

Throughout my stay at the hotel and without a suitcase to hump around I managed to get from downstairs to my hotel room door before the lights went out, but it was very, very annoying, even if it did add a little excitement to my daily routine.

When I want across the road to the main hotel building, I was even more disappointed. Three-star hotel, three-star breakfast I was thinking as surveyed the cakes and pastries and the tinned fruit and realised that I had three days of this. Three days of sub-standard breakfasts consisting largely of, yes, you guessed it, cake.

Reluctantly I tucked in but I resolved to find somewhere else for the most important meal of the day. What I found was better in terms of its surrounding, but the food was the same  and this time included the pizza and countless varieties of Lindor chocolates. This morning’s meal was my second and now here I am awaiting the 1125 train to Milan after a pizza, an almond croissant plus tea plus a filled pastry which, as I’ve said, I think was apple. I like apple pie but on this trip the amount of cakes and biscuits is just too much to bear especially for me as I’m extremely weak-willed when it comes to cake, as avid readers will know.

I am awaiting the 1123 train from Udine to Milano Central which departs in about one hour from now and when I reach Milan I will take the train to Malpensa and fly home to London.

The Quo Vadis had its faults but at least it was clean, but I wouldn’t stay there again because of its location. Yes, around 15 minutes on foot from the train station, but in  a dreary part of town. I went to bed early on most nights and that was fine but only because I was travelling alone and it can be just that…very lonely, making hitting the sack the best option. Last night I watched a couple of episodes of Only Fools and Horse and then turned in for the night with only my own thoughts to keep me company and for some reason I started to imagine myself as a guest on Graham Norton entertaining film stars with comedic tales and observations. You might think I would remember my dreams, but I don’t think I had any to remember.

And now I’m sitting here watching fellow travellers go about their business, the clatter of crockery, the gurgling espresso machine and the radio blaring out rubbishy pop songs that I didn’t recognise.

I notice it is possible to buy the station café’s merchandise in the shape of a tee-shirt with the words Il Caffee della Stazione written on the front and an illustration of a train. These, I figured, are the best kind of merch because it’s unlikely you’re going to find anybody else wearing it and that excited me! I’ll be one, I must buy one!

But then, when I had taken off my writing glasses and took another look, they weren’t tee-shirts at all, they were, in fact, paper bags in which to put cakes and pastries to take home. Disappointed, I made my way to Platform 6 and boarded the train to Milano.

Notes from the 1735hrs train from Milano Centrale to Udine, 28 October 2025

I was going to walk to the station around 0545 trundling my suitcase behind me. Imagine the noise: those tiny plastic wheels on concrete pathways. So I took the cab instead and it arrived quietly around 0620. I had to be at Gatwick for 0705, which was easy and not walking to the station bought me time and meant that I could have breakfast. I made up a couple of crumpets (slice of bread-sized) and brewed a cup of tea and relaxed for a few minutes watching early morning television. My alarm went off at 0500hrs. One minute I was asleep, the next I was wide awake and wishing I was still asleep. I wasn’t.

I was dropped off at the North Terminal and went to check in, except that the days of checking in with a human being were over, now the customer is expected to do everything, including putting the suitcase on the conveyor having attached the sticky label. Then it was off to security where I was told to make off my shoes. Once again, I cursed Richard Reeve, the shoe bomber, who languishes in an English jail where long may he rot. That man has caused many travellers many problems and will continue to do so. In short, I hate him and I’m sure I’m not alone.

I found a restaurant, Sonoma, and ordered a full English breakfast and a mug of tea. Oddly there were less calories than the healthier option. I smiled to myself. Once finished, I wanted to pay up and leave but there was nobody around. Earlier I had been asked if I wanted to scan a QR code using my phone and then order the entire meal without using a waitress. I didn’t fancy the idea as I felt that, sooner or later, somebody was going to be out of a job. Still, when I wanted to pay there was no waitress in sight so I wandered around in search of one whilst considering just wandering off and not paying. I always figure that the best way to get somebody to take payment is to act as if you're not going to pay, but I’m far too honest to go through with it. The waitress eventually arrived, I paid, but couldn’t tip them as, I was told, the tip wouldn’t appear on the receipt, meaning I wouldn’t be able to claim it on expenses.

The board said the gate would close at 0855 and it was getting on so I hoofed it to gate 46 where a queue had formed, giving me a chance to answer the call of nature. The flight was fine, very smooth all the way. I landed around noon, there was a mild delay at passport control and a longer than expected train journey from Malpensa airport. After that I spent most of the day at Milan Centrale station. The non-stop train to Udine (I say non-stop but I mean no change of train) didn’t leave until 1735 so I mooched around and I can’t say I enjoyed it. Unfortunately for me, I had left my Eric Ambler novel in the office and so had nothing to read, not even a newspaper. Not having anything to distract me, I was left dealing with the mildly irritating banal scenarios the world threw at me, all absolutely nothing in the general scheme of things, but annoying all the same. So minor I won’t bother you with them but suffice it to say it’s been a long day and I was glad to eventually board the 1735 Milan to Udine train, although I discovered that two perfectly normal travel adaptors simply didn’t work in the sockets provided underneath the seat and this means problems later as my phone only has 23% battery left and I’m sure I’m going to need it when I reach Udine and need to get a cab to the hotel. It’s unbelievable, two perfectly good adaptors and neither one fits the sockets under the seats. I brought two with me in the hope that if one didn’t work, the other one would, but neither work. I have switched the phone off and because I rely on my phone for everything I now have no idea what time it is although I do know that the train arrives in Udine at 2140, so not at all early. Once again, I feel the world starting to conspire against me. If the chargers don’t work in the hotel I’ll be uncontactable for the entire week.

I don’t know what time it is, it’s dark outside so I can’t see anything and without going on a trek I have no idea if there’s a buffet car on the train. I’m also travelling alone so there's nobody around to help me out. I’m baffled as to why the chargers don’t fit the power sockets, there is no rhyme nor reason for it.

Travelling by train at night is both boring and depressing. While I bought myself a copy of the Economist, it’s a little too heavy for an evening read after a day of travelling so I’ve resorted to writing in a notebook. I’ll transfer the contents to my blog when I reach the hotel. Next stop Vicenza, says a notice hanging from the roof of the carriage. The notice is basically a small television screen on the ceiling of the carriage, high up so everybody can see it. Actually there is a clock on the screen too, it’s 1915 – a small victory, I can tell the time so all is not lost.

Outside nothing but blackness. Inside, the sound of somebody blowing their nose while others murmur in quiet conversation with their companions. It is now 1917 and I am in train number 8993, the 1735 Milano to Udine train. Virtually everyone is playing with their phone.

I don’t know where my hotel is in relation to the railway station, that's why I’ve turned off my phone in case I need to use the GPS which, of course, uses up a lot of power. I’m hoping there will be a lot of cabs when we arrive at Udine, but I have experience of the rank outside the station and I know it to be, well, rank. Let’s see.

I bought myself two large bottles of Pellegrino in Milan and have finished one of them. We have arrived at Vicenza and I can’t see a thing outside the window. Next stop: Padova. It’s 1925hrs and there’s over two hours to go.

I keep thinking about checking out the existence of a buffet car, but I have a sneaky suspicion there isn’t one and if there was one, what would I buy? Am I even hungry? I could probably do without, but a walk would do me good. I can’t see anybody clasping paper cups of coffee so I’m guessing there isn’t one. The train is on time, says the television screen hanging from the ceiling. It’s 1929. Both my mum and dad were born in 1929.

It's 1935 and we’re arriving in Padova. I tried those two travel adaptors again, hoping somebody would tell me why they don’t fit or perhaps even offer me one that does work, but no, nobody’s going to be of assistance, it’s often the way of the world.

It’s 1949 and I’m guessing that if there was a buffet car an announcement would have been made or, at the very least, a note on the television screen. We’re about to arrive at Venezia Mestre. The worse thing is that I’m going to have another train journey like this one on Friday when I head home and it’s all because of one of my silly travel rules, this one my aversion to and avoidance of Ryanair who fly direct to Trieste from the UK. I just don’t like them and I never will. But because of that rule I am sitting here now looking out at the darkness and wishing I was already tucked up in bed. I suppose you could call this train the ‘red eye’. There are still people out there waiting for trains, holding cases or bicycles but certainly on their way home and this is when I feel homesick even if I haven’t yet spent one night away from home. The people outside are silhouettes, but there are more illuminated platforms that reveal the colours of their clothes and the plastic bags they carry. In fact, there’s one illuminated platform, the rest are fairly dark and, therefore, those awaiting trains are dark, colourless figures. The train is remaining in the station for longer than normal.

The train is travelling back in the direction from whence it came and yes, I know that was really bad phrasing, but it’s going back the way it came. Treviso is the next stop and I’m guessing that if we hadn’t gone into Venezia Mestre, the journey might have been a little quicker. I just heard ‘toilet out of order’. That’s all I need. Better keep hold of that remaining bottle of Pellegrino.

I’m in Coach 7, seat 32, a window seat, and while coach 7 was the lead carriage, the fact that it has now changed direction means that coach 7 is now the very last coach of the train, meaning that when we reach Udine, I’ll be one of the last passengers off the train and that could mean no cabs left at the rank and with my phone on its last legs and two, not one, but two faulty chargers, I could be up a gum tree, up shit creek without a paddle, in dire straits and I really don’t need it. It’s amazing how things conspire against me. ‘We are now approaching Treviso. Thank you for travelling with Italo. Goodbye!’

It's 2021 and the temperature has gone down from 16 degrees in Milano to just 7 degrees in Treviso.

Outside, ghostly and empty trains in sidings as the train finally arrives in Treviso and slows to a halt, it’s nearly half past eight. In one hour from now there will be just 10 minutes to go and hopefully I’ll be skipping to the taxi rank, a spring in my step and the sound of plastic casters on concrete annoying all and sundry. Next stop: Conegliano. We’re getting close to Udine! Once again, we are reminded that the train is on time.

In under half an hour there will be just 40 minutes left to run (or ride) and that’s a heartening thought. I was under the impression that the man opposite me, or rather across the aisle from me, was English, but he’s not. I can now hear him speaking with a strong Italian accent in Italian so there goes my earlier hope that he might have helped me with my travel adaptor problem. It was never on the cards! Nobody can help and nobody will, in the same way that if you’re driving and need to get into another lane, nobody is going to let you in, you’re on your own, just remember to be equally as unhelpful when you’re in charge of the situation. Not that he was in charge of any situation, he didn’t even know what I was thinking to be fair.

The Italian has stood up and has put his jacket on. He’s overweight and in desperate need of regular exercise. I hope he gets his act together, but I sense he won’t. He looks a bit like the actor Michael Sheen and has a grey and bushy beard. It’s 2041 – exactly one hour before we reach Udine. The next stop is Conegliano and this is where Michael Sheen lives. It’s dark out there and everything is very poorly lit. I only spotted one person on the platform waiting for a train. The next and penultimate stop is Pordenone, then it’s Udine.

The train is still on time and I’m thinking about my last bottle of Pellegrino. I had two but drank one and now I’m thinking what a great decision it was to buy them. Drinking water staves off hunger and I’m now doubting that I’ll eat anymore until breakfast time. It’s a shame the train is on time and not early. How great to be, say 20 minutes early. It won’t happen, I know that much. It’s 2055.

Milestone times are being racked up! It’s 2100 and that means a straight 41 minutes to go. I can’t make out what’s happening, oh, sorry, yes I can, the train slowed and I thought we had arrived at Pordenone – we have give or take a few yards. ‘We invite travellers to prepare and collect their luggage. Thank you, and goodbye!’ It’s warmed up outside, it’s now 8 degrees. The train is approaching Pordenone, which is deserted, just one person on the platform. ‘Do not cross the railway lines’ advises a sign. Or ‘Vietato attravesone i binare’. I wonder if anybody boarded the train. Perhaps one solitary kid in a dressing gown like in the Polar Express.

The train very slowly departs Pordonone and everything out there is in darkness as we pick up speed and head for our last stop: Udine. Milan to Udine is quite a haul, especially late at night, but for me anything is better than flying Ryanair.

The train must have banked left as my full bottle of Pellegrino slid towards the edge of the seat-back tray. I just caught it and placed it on the seat to my left. It’s 2112, roughly 30 minutes to go. I’m amazed at the darkness. I haven’t seen any roads, no street lights, nothing.

There’s still a smattering of passengers left in Coach 7 as the train races though another deserted station and into the deeper blackness on the other side. It’s pure blackness out there, no signs of life, no street lights or high streets or tower blocks. I can see distant street lighting but it really is pitch black in the foreground and no sign of life at all. It begs the question: where is everybody? Do the Italians go to bed early? Is there nothing to do in these parts? 2019 and roughly 20 minutes to go and it’s all over. Apart from Ryanair, which will never be an option, I can’t think of how I could make this journey simpler. I could have taken three trains, but that might have been fraught with potential pitfalls, like missing a connection and not making it to Udine, who knows? I opted for the direct service but I’m beginning to wonder about the return trip. If there’s nothing until 1735 from Udine I might (in fact I will miss my flight). And yes, I know, I should have looked into this a little better, but I think I might well find myself on numerous local trains on Friday so I need to be up with the lark on the 31^st and on the ball. It’s 2025, roughly 15 minutes to go.

The train is slowing, there’s 10 minutes left to go but still nothing but blackness outside. Udine is a city, albeit a small one, and yet there is nothing out there.

People are readying themselves to leave and so must I!

Footnote: There was a cab outside and I reached my hotel in around five minutes. You can read all about the Quo Vadis Hotel in my next post.