A beautiful day of backpacking through Venice was comeing to a close when my buddy Mark and I decided it was time to head to the train station. Our plan was to be in Florence by 9:00PM, grab some pizza, drink some wine, and then head to our hostel.

Unfortunately there weren't any trains heading directly to Florence, so Mark asked at a help station how to get there.

"Well, where do we go Mark?"
"Uh... Bologni or something."
"We're going to a town named after a meat?"
"Just check the train boards, it sounds something like that and it leaves at 5:15."

Well lo' and behold, there it was, Bulloni! Except it was leaving at 5:10, not 5:15, and we only had a couple minutes to make it! We ran to the train and made it just in time, and there were even a few booths left available.

An hour or two later, the train conductor stopped by to see our tickets and find out where we were going. "We're headed to Venice." Blank stare. "Venezia."

"You're going the opposite direction."
"Well we're going to Bulloni for a connecting train."
He stared at us like we were idiots. "I think you wanted Bologne."
Oops.

By the time we got off the train and found one headed in the proper direction, it was getting late and the number of trains were dwindling. Around 10PM we found ourselves back in Venice. Around 2AM we pulled into Bologne. And about 3AM, a short, portly Italian man entered our cabin, gave us some creepy glances, and then commenced what can only be described as a cacophony of noise sounding vaguely like a rabbit being sucked slowly through a two inch hole.

Two hours later, we took our first steps in Florence. We stayed for one day.