I buy a ticket to Limone and figure I’ll work it out later. In any case, my train is delayed, forcing me to stay overnight on the Italian border.
At the station the next morning, a helpful staff member assists me. He presents me with my ticket. The ticket’s destination is Ventimiglia on the Italian Riviera.
Credit: Jamie Brown
“But I’m not going to Ventimiglia,” I tell him, “I’m going to Tende.” He nods confidently. “We only sell tickets to Italy.” This is bizarre. I can now get to Tende, but only if I pay for a ticket that will take me into France, down to the Cote d’Azur and back across the border to Italy.
Half an hour later I’ve arrived at my destination in Tende, and the seat I’ve paid for keeps moving all the way down to the coast without me.
Things aren’t much different in France. A few days later we’re heading to Ventimiglia across the border to meet friends for lunch. To do this we have to buy a ticket to Menton in France. Of course, we can get off the bus in Ventimiglia if we wish, but our ticketed destination is in France. We get off in Ventimiglia.
Buying our train ticket back to Tende feels like deja-vu. The machine tells us our destination is errata. We buy a ticket to Limone, then get off at Tende.
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I’m starting to wonder if this stubborn refusal to recognise the other country is a legacy of the region’s tumultuous past.
Once part of Italy, Tende was officially absorbed into France in 1947 following the Treaty of Paris. “My grandfather was Filippo, and I’m Philippe, and now no-one my age speaks Italian anymore,” one Tende local wistfully tells me.
After a while I suspect it’s less about history and more about bureaucracy. Someone in finance has probably decided upgrading ticketing and timetable systems for these small border crossings doesn’t add up. In any case, I will likely never find out.
Discussing SNCF and Trenitalia with French and Italian friends inspires a world-weary look and a shrug bearing the weight of generations.
We keep trying to buy the right ticket regardless.
When it comes time to leave France, we spend five minutes at the unattended train station trying to buy a ticket from Tende to Limone, so we can connect with our pre-booked Italian tickets. Computer says “no”.
We give up, board the train, and sneak across the border into Italy.
*A very long time ago, when I didn’t know any better, obviously.