I’m Lovin’ It
It all started with a discussion on the lack of meat in much of Italy’s culinary choices. Today at work we were hungry, which caused a long discussion about food, and got me thinking about cheeseburgers all day. I hadn’t had any kind of “carne” (red meat) for at least five days. At this point, it is almost too embarrassing to write, but I must go on. I decided I wanted McDonald’s.
In the U.S. I surely would have chosen Taco Bell or Wendy’s, but in Italy, the only option from that genre is McDonald’s. Although McDonald’s is a “Worldwide Partner” of the Olympics, and the president of McDonald’s is in Torino right now, the nearest McDonald’s is an hour away. An Italian hour away.
I talked up Kevin, Erika and Kim on the idea, and soon we all had visions of warm, smushed cheeseburgers in our heads. We decided to meet at 7:00 to leave. Being the flexible Olympic workers that we are, we planned on plenty of bus stop waiting time. At 7:20 we were able to catch the bus to Pinerolo, although it was the bus normally used by volunteers, not the fancy media bus (which was probably only 30 seconds behind us). No stretching across the aisles on this trip, and it necessitated a trip up to the driver to inform him that the internal climate of the bus was similar to some areas on the surface of the sun. Actually, I wasn’t quite so poetic, but I called upon my expanding Italian vocabulary to say, “Es molte caliente en il autobus.” When I don’t know the Italian word, I use the Spanish word, and that probably just makes me sound silly. It did quickly cool down, so I guess my Spantalianish worked.
After the 70 minute bus ride, we arrived in Pinerolo. Unfortunately, this hot little worker bus also took us to a strange stop, and we had no clue where to go. A conversation with a train station worker was unfruitful, but we soon found some Canadian curling team family members, who pointed the way. Several more conversations with different people to verify that we were going the right way and we arrived to the media compound in Pinerolo. Still, the golden arches eluded us.
We went through the whole rigamarole of security, just to ask a fellow TOBO worker where the McDonald’s is. Somehow he found it humorous that we were actually seeking out a McDonald’s, but he did point us the right way. We left the compound, and as we rounded a corner, we were suddenly basked in the glorious yellow glow of those golden arches.
For some reason I’m dragging this story out, so I’ll try to get on with it. Needless to say, we were quite happy at our own navigational prowess, through the foreign land of Pinerolo. We enjoyed our meals, and decided to make our way back. We went to wear I thought the bus stop was, but Pinerolo seems to be a bit behind the times, and does not have the official Olympic bus stop signs set up yet. That’s okay, I know this is where the buses stop, I’ve been on one here before. A bus pulls up, and look! It’s trusty ol’ OFM3, the special media bus that goes to our lodging. No, wait, that one is going back to Torino, we need to wait for the one travelling back up the mountain.
Some more minutes went by, and lo, another media bus arrived. OFM3! Surely this one will take us to our haven in Pragelato. Nope, again to the wretched land of Lingotto. Wait a minute, why are all of those buses on that side turning off their lights? They’re the media buses, but all “Fuori Servizio,” and I can guess what that means. Again I’m dragging this out.
Perhaps we’re at the wrong stop. We walked back into the venue and media compound (this means going through security again). This time we couldn’t find any TOBO workers, but the NBC workers were burning the 10:30pm oil. Let me just jump ahead and say that the NBC producers at Pinerolo may have been the nicest people I have met in Europe. They began dialing different numbers and trying to put us in touch with TOROC transportation. Unfortunately, all we could get from many phone calls was that we were at the right stop, and so we decided to go back and wait. We ended up talking to the NBC people for a little while longer, and they even told us that if we got stuck, they could get an NBC car to drive us home. If anybody at Pinerolo talks to the NBC people, tell them that the little lost TOBO kids made it home safely.
Back at the same bus stop, I talked to one of the buses that was shutting down for the night, and the driver didn’t speak a word of English the entire time (none of them do). However, I was able to successfully translate a complex message from him, informing me about tonight’s bus schedule. Although every written schedule says that buses from Pinerolo to Pragelato run until midnight, it seems that tonight they decided to turn in early, and quit running in that direction at ten (”ciente,” I think). Buses coming down the mountain still run until midnight.
The next bus to come along opened its doors, and although it was supposed to be going to Lingotto, a kind American with a New York accent told me that they had convinced the driver to take them to the larger bus stop in Pinerolo, because many of them had the same problem. We got to the large bus stop, where the volunteers began to work to figure out how to get us (and several others) back up the mountain. We talked to some Norwegian spectators, and congratulated them on the bronze in the Nordic Combined at our venue today.
I seemed to have stretched this story out way too long, and I know it’s much more boring than my actual work today, but I felt like writing this whole thing out because it was frustrating and fun and tiring and one of the million roll-with-the-punches experiences I have had so far. I am now sitting on the aforementioned bus on my way to Pragelato. Unfortunately there are three Pragelato stops, all 10 minutes apart, and the driver doesn’t know where to go. I had better go sit up front and make sure we do get home. Kevin, Erika and Kim have been sleeping for at least a half hour.
I will write soon on the amazing emotional experience you get at the finish line; it’s something you don’t realize until you’re surrounded by athletes and coaches who are shouting and crying and collapsing from exhaustion.
Oh, speaking of that, tomorrow we start at 6:15. And I’m still having the time of my life here. Ciao!