My thank you dinner morphs into our host insisting to cook for us. He drags his feet with preparations.

I offer again to help, but he says,

"It's fast. No problem."

Under an hour till our train departs.

My boyfriend and I exchange worried looks until our host serves up dishes of egg and tomato spaghetti. We gobble it up like we've been stranded on a deserted island.

Half an hour left.

Plates empty, we thank him, apologize, and don our bags. But, I want a picture together. Our host runs to get all gussied up and change sweaters.

Ouups.