So yeah, Italia. La dolce vita etc. Except it's not all jumping in the Trevi fountain or riding around on a Vespa. Sometimes it's a bit more like The Good, the Bad and the Ugly.
Meet Roberto, the bad. Roberto is the owner of B&B Cycas in the small town of Terracina, where we decided to spend a couple of days at the seaside before heading back to Rome. Roberto's B&B looked nice and seemed perfectly situated: just a few metres from the beach and close to the historic centre as well. So we booked a room.
A week or so before our departure we received notice from the Terracina B&B office that Roberto was having some trouble with his family and would not be able to accommodate us. They offered us alternative lodging at another B&B, also just a few metres from the beach, but considerably further from the town centre. Not perfect, but we didn't really see any alternative so we accepted. We did find it strange that they offered us this new B&B at the same price as Roberto's even though it advertised considerably cheaper rates on the internet. We inquired about this, but they sidestepped our question and we just decided we'd figure it out when we got there. The lady from the B&B office said that Roberto would pick us up from the train station and drop us off at the new B&B, so could we please let them know when we would be arriving. Which we did.
So, Monday afternoon, 4.23pm we step off the train in Terracina. We come out of the station, no idea what Roberto looks like and no phone number to call, but we figure he'll be looking for us and we're looking for him, so we'll find each other. Ten minutes later and we're the only ones still waiting outside the station. No Roberto in sight. I think: hey, this is Italy, nobody's on time here. Let's give the guy a break, he'll be here any minute. Another ten minutes later and we're beginning to believe Roberto is going to be a no show. I cross the station square to check out the time table at the bus stop. Can't make sense of it, but it's not encouraging that no bus has passed here yet. After waiting another ten minutes we decide to give up. No use in waiting for Roberto any longer. We figure we'll just make our way into town and find the B&B by ourselves.
More than an hour later we are still walking towards our B&B. With two large suitcases, good for almost 40 kilos. Did I mention this B&B wasn't so close to the town centre? A couple of minutes after 6pm we get a call on Annette's mobile. It's Roberto. Where are you, he asks? At least we think that's what he's saying. His English is not so good. We somehow manage to explain to him where we are. Stay right there, he says, I'm coming to pick you up. So we stay put and wait. We have no idea what car he drives, but he said it was white. So we are on the look-out for a white car. Several pass us by. After ten minutes waiting a Smart stops. It's Roberto. In a Smart. You know, those tiny cars that seat two and have zero trunk space. Roberto, a greasy fifty-something wannabe playboy, orders Annette to get in the car and tells me it's only 500 metres further to the B&B, I can manage with the suitcases, right? Um... I guess.
By the time I get to the B&B Roberto has left and we are in the hands of our lovely landlady, who is exhausting herself in apologies for the evil Roberto. The B&B, Casa Martellini, turns out to be quite nice, except it's a very long walk from the centre of town of course. Our room is small but clean and our hosts are sweet. The landlady does not speak a word of English, but thankfully her daughter does. Over an aperitivo they explain how they had called Roberto earlier to inquire when he would finally be arriving with those guests he'd promised. At which point it transpired that Roberto had of course forgotten all about us. Later our hosts also revealed why Roberto wanted us to pay the price of a room at B&B Cycas (evil Roberto's den) and not the usual price for a room at Casa Martellini: he would collect the surplus as commission for passing on his customers to Casa Martellini...
Thankfully our hosts did not charge us this surplus. In fact they were darlings and did their best to make our stay as pleasant as possible. They recommended us good restaurants and even gave us lifts into town and to the train station. It's only thanks to them that our stay in Terracina didn't end up a complete disaster.
So Roberto, I know you're not reading this, but I'll humour myself for a moment and imagine that you are. You fucked us over, mate. I'm full of understanding for the unforeseen circumstances that made it impossible for us to stay at your B&B. But if you say you're going to pick us up, you don't arrive almost two hours late in a fucking Smart. You had our number, if you couldn't pick us up you should have called to let us know. And you know what a commission is, Roberto? It's payment for services rendered. You didn't render any service, you just fucked us over. If anything you should pay us. By the way, how were we? Any feedback is welcome. You've got our number.