Standing alone at midnight on a dark, cold train platform somewhere in the Alps, the train bound for Florence pulled in slowly and stopped, with only one door opening near the front car. Scrambling with my luggage in tow to reach the only open door, I was met by a porter who informed me that due to a train strike I would not be boarding my sleeping car as assigned, however a few hundred lire later I was onboard, the sole passenger on a ghost train bound for Florence.
