Top Ten Disasters 8. 15th April 2004 Dalmine, near Bergamo, Italy

---

When I first started travelling on my own, over-confidence seemed an unlikely reason for self-inflicted problems. This led to a “disaster” which lacked consequences, but was for a while surreally disturbing.

My three-night city break to Bergamo (or “Milan” as Ryanair would call it) was simply a flight. Going into Bergamo (not Milan) on arrival, I had a leisurely wander round the city before trying a couple of hotels. This sample showed that getting accommodation would be more difficult than I anticipated, so I tried Tourist Information instead. This told me that they hadn’t got a room in Bergamo (or possibly no room within my budget) and they directed me to a hotel in the village of Dalmine.

This started an extended time trying to master the public transport to my hotel. At one point I was dropped from one minibus in the middle of nowhere and transferred to a different one. Using little more than random chance I ended up in Dalmine and found the hotel. This transpired to be clearly a migrant-worker hotel with me as the only tourist. As a man, I came out quite well from this (I think it might have been an uncomfortable environment for a woman). I got a three-bedded room to myself for less than £20 a night and the “restaurant” meal offered little choice but was cheap and filling.

For the next two days, I had the problem of touring from Dalmine (and more worryingly getting back to it again) and never got beyond the “random chance” stage.

For my last night, I checked into Bergamo Youth Hostel. This was 22 years after Steve, Roy and I had tried to check into the hostel and were turned away by an apparent 16-year-old with a machine gun. No such excitement this time plus two major advantages – I found a kindred spirit to go and watch Serie B football with me and I didn’t have to use Italian public transport on a Sunday to catch my flight home.

---