On to Rome...if we can make it

Trying to get train tickets to Rome was nuts.
We didn't understand how the system worked and no one wanted to help us, regardless of whether they spoke English or not.
We went to the ticket box, they told us we had to go to information first. We went to information, they printed out a sheet. We went to the ticket box again, bought our tickets, and then realized they didn't have a time on them.
Hmm.
In France, they have people walking around the station to help direct tourists around. Not in Prague. We went back to information and inquired. We asked the guy in the window, "Do you speak English?" not wanting to seem arrogant in believing that, as Americans, everyone should speak our language.
He responds, in English, "This is the Czech. We speak Czech in the Czech."
Okay, so you're mocking us.
Leslie says, "Well we don't speak Czech. That's why we asked." But we asked our question anyway, about the departure times, and we think he gave us bogus information, so we asked another window, but they just printed out a sheet of departure times.
We decided to sit and eat lunch and wait to see if our train appeared on the departures board.
When it still didn't appear a half hour before we thought we were supposed to leave, we knew something was off.
Looking at the ticket again, we figured out (I don't even know how) that we were at the wrong station.
So we ran to the metro and prayed we would make it in time.
We did, though it was quite confusing, even at the other station.
Oh well, to Rome!
Well, first to Vienna, then Rome.
We had dinner in Vienna, followed by apple strudel - yum - and then took our overnight train to Roma.