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I'm sitting in an empty train car that bears a striking resemblance to a jail cell, except with green curtains. Apparently the only wheelchair accessible car on this Trenitalia local from Florence SMN to Pisa Centrale is one that's completely empty except for a desk and an office chair — no other passengers, no seats at all, so I'm stuck in my wheelchair. And I was looking forward to a nap, too. At least the trip is only an hour or so.

The conductors just passed through my car on the way to the cockpit (or whatever it's called on a train — the engine room?). I guess this must be kind of their lounge area. I hope we start moving soon; the gray, trash-strewn, rainy railyard is depressing as hell.

I just said goodbye to Abby and Kate, who got on another train bound for Milan. They'll spend a night there before flying home to the States. My plan is to stay the night in Pisa by myself and then take a taxi to the airport, where I have a flight tomorrow morning to Barcelona. I can't wait to see Spain.

I'm listening to the Raconteurs, the new Detroit supergroup comprising the White Stripes' Jack White, singer/songwriter Brendan Benson, and the rhythm section from the Detroit Cobras. If the lead single is any indication, their debut album will be quite a listen.