I really don't feel like there's much to say about the first leg of my journey. I had a minor incident with my clear, resealable plastic bag and then another when I realised I didn't have any cash, but that's what debit cards are for... That happy moment was the last time I used said debit card as I usefully went and forgot the PIN shortly after.
The flight itself was relatively uneventful and soon I was at Nice airport trying to make my way to Sanremo. It's a disconcerting feeling when you can't communicate with someone and, despite my A level, all the French I had left was pretty much sans use. Collectively, myself and my two friends managed to buy three tickets each to go to Sanremo and with the best will in the world, though we had quite a lot of luggage, we didn't have that much.
There was much excitement as I was greeted by my first double-decker train of my stay and everything was very clean and efficient. Then we hit Ventimiglia. It's the first train over the border from France and, to be frank, it's a dump. We used the underpass to change trains and were immediately chased up the stairs by a toothless old lady who seemed to want to terrify the young child behind us.
Welcome to Italy...
We had the pleasure of a drunk Frenchman in our carriage at Ventimiglia, but not for long as he was soon evicted by the rightful owner of the seat. Twenty minutes later we're in Sanremo and walking out of the largest underground walkway I have ever seen. It is to be hoped that no-one ever arrived at the station late unless they'd been taking lessons from Usain Bolt...
We were greeted by the company that would be taking care of us over the next month and whisked away to our hotel at the edge of the city and that was that. I had arrived.
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