One Night in Orvieto

Lucy Park was traveling around Italy alone for the first time, and she had a detailed plan for every day. On the fourth day, she took the evening train from Rome to Florence. She was tired after eight hours of museums, so she decided to close her eyes for a few minutes.

She woke up when the train stopped. Lots of people were getting off, and a voice on the speakers was saying something in fast Italian. "Florence already?" Lucy thought. She grabbed her bag and jumped off just before the doors closed.

Then she looked at the sign on the platform. It didn't say "Firenze," the Italian name for Florence. It said "Orvieto."

Lucy ran to the ticket office. A man with a gray mustache was closing the ticket window. "The next train to Florence?" she asked.

"Tomorrow morning," he said in English. "Seven-forty. I'm sorry, signora."

It was almost ten at night. Her phone battery was at five percent, and she didn't know anybody in Orvieto. For a moment, she felt like crying.

"Go up to the old town," the man said, and he pointed at a little red train going up the hill. "It's beautiful. You'll find a room up there."

The little train took her up the hill in two minutes. At the top, Lucy found narrow stone streets, warm yellow lights and a huge old church. Its front was covered in gold and bright colors. She stood in front of it with her mouth open.

She was hungry, so she walked into the only restaurant that was still open. Inside, about twenty people were sitting at one long table, eating and singing. The owner, a man in a white apron, came over to her.

"I'm sorry," Lucy said. "Are you closed?"

"Not for you," he said with a smile. "I'm Marco. We're having a party for my mother's birthday, but there's always room for one more. Please, sit down."

Lucy tried to say no, but Marco's mother, a tiny woman with bright eyes, was already pulling out a chair for her. Someone put a big plate of pasta in front of her. It was the best pasta of her whole trip.

For three hours, Lucy ate, laughed and learned Italian words from Marco's mother: "buonissimo" (very good), "ancora" (more) and "basta!" (enough!). When Lucy told the story of the train, the whole table laughed, and Marco's mother touched her cheek. "Lucky girl," she said in English. "The train knew where to go."

After the party, Marco's cousin Sofia gave Lucy a room for the night in her small guesthouse around the corner.

At six o'clock the next morning, she stood on the old city wall and watched the sun come up over the green valley. Then she went down the hill and took the train to Florence.

Florence was lovely. But on her last night in Italy, Lucy did something that wasn't in her plan. She wrote a postcard: "Dear Marco, I'll be back next year. Please save me a seat at the long table. Lucy."