Milan. A weird, weird place. When I very
first thought about it, the only thing I specifically knew about Milan was that they were
known for fashion. I knew I wasn’t going to be dropping big bucks for anything
super fashionable, so we discussed skipping out on the city. But after
researching, Milan
was by far the cheapest city to fly into, so away we went. We flew in on a red
eye, leaving 6PM our time, arriving 7AM their time (there is a 6 hour gap, so
it was 1AM Eastern Standard Time).
When we arrived in
Malpensa, the city of the airport, 45 minutes from
Milan, we caught our first train! I had never
ridden on a train before, I think Graham has, but it was a very simple
experience. Nothing different from a tram or monorail. Checking it off my life
list though. When we arrived in the station we became horribly lost! I had
step-by-step directions but they were not helpful. As stated on the
Tourist in Italy blog it took us a while to get our bearings due to the layout of
street signs. Thank ya map for saving the day!
As we prepared to
leave the station we literally watched a protest grow from a rag tag team of 25
people, to hundreds of Italians chanting, throwing smoke bombs and carrying
banners with their said cause. We never did find out the definite reason for
protesting, though there were lots of different hints. There were LBGT signs,
flags with Fidel Castro’s picture, a large group of workers holding a mock
coffin and someone suggested it could be because of anger towards the Milano
Expo. It was very strange and very annoying. Coincidentally they zig-zagged in
our path for a while (we were going straight, so we had about 3 encounters with
them) until they finally had a large gathering filled with speeches in the
Duomo’s center.
While they were
yelling over inequality or whatever, we were en route to the Duomo Di Milano
(Cathedral of Milan) when we caught up with them again! It was really the main sight seeing location I cared about
visiting, considering the fact that there are few things in Milan. The Cathedral proved to be very grand,
enormous and inside (we couldn’t take pictures) was decorated with precision,
tall ceilings included. Regardless, it was marred by the fact that Graham and I
couldn’t enter with luggage. So instead we took turns going in, while the other
watched the items, and then I was scolded in Italian for sitting too close to
the door. My life, man.
We were ready to
go drop our suitcases off when I noticed a large flock of pigeons that kept
circling another girl. All of a sudden a young man came up to me, without
saying anything, and threw a small handful of corn into my glove. Instantly, the
birds began to come to me and I realized. A fool, that’s what I knew I was in
that moment; this would be no free experience. Sure enough, the young man gave
Graham corn and asked for our camera so he could take a picture. Several young
men came up and I reluctantly gave it to them, calmed by the presence of 20
police officers directly behind them to watch the protest. They snapped and I
whispered to Graham to be prepared to pay. I was totally kicking myself for
being so gullible, but decided I better smile and make those pictures worth it.
When we were done, sure enough, they told us they wanted “a donation” (please-
scam artists). Graham was really, really annoyed and dug in the fanny pack for
a 1 dollar bill. He was even more frustrated when he couldn’t find one. The
only bills we had were 5’s and 10’s. “A 10! A 10 is good!,” the man said in
English (you could tell they were Island boys),
meanwhile he wasn’t even the person to take our picture. I was so incredibly
ticked off, “NO. A 5 is fine.” Especially considering it wasn’t even worth 5 Euros. And so we paid them and stalked off. I
was totally livid, but realized from that point on to watch for those type of
people.
After getting
strawberry gelato (“fragola”) we realized another mistake. In Euro’s there are
NO bills smaller than a 5, they are represented in coins! There is a 1 and 2 in
fact. Then we found out their remaining coin system consisted of: .50, .20,
.10, .05, .02 and .01.
So we learned how to deal with money.
As we walked to
the room we were staying at, I realized how bad of a decision it was to travel
without dropping our luggage off first. Graham and I each had 2 bags: I had a
book bag and carry-on while he had a rolling suitcase and carry-on. The carry-on
bag began to form a little welt on my shoulder and we marched toward our room
with determination and speed. Unbeknownst to me, there was a Metro system
underneath us that could have taken us there in about 2 minutes. Instead we
walked for about 45 minutes, when I originally planned it out, that didn’t
sound too lengthy, and I began to kick myself yet again.
Finally we
arrived, we were staying with a local man who rented out the apartment adjacent
to his own. It was more spacious than a hotel room and we had a little balcony,
so Graham and I were pleased. The moment he gave us the keys, 12PM, bare in
mind it was 5AM our time, we both fell on the twin beds and slept.
5 hours later we woke up, the sun had already
set in Milan.
Our jam packed day that I planned went out the window, but we were both so
exhausted and had such a trying day that we didn’t care. We got dressed and
walked down the street to try our first Italian restaurant. When we arrived the
restaurant was completely empty, our waiter came by dropped off two glasses of wine
and left us. Awkwardness strikes, yet again! We weren’t sure the protocol, it
was kind of him to offer it to us, but we certainly weren’t going to drink it.
So we politely pushed it to the side. Eventually we ordered (Carbonara Pasta
from G, Margherita [cheese] Pizza for me) and began to chat. Two ladies and a
little girl came in and began to speak in English. Our mouths dropped. Wow!
English!! So we asked where they were from- the good old U S of A! Neat, huh?
So then we asked what state did they live in- Florida
they chimed. Okay, this was getting weird. Turns out these ladies were from Tampa, but living abroad in Italy for a year. We were in shock
considering that we were in Milan,
in a tiny café on a quiet street and we ran into Floridians.
After finishing
our meal we went back to our room, put on pj’s, watched a movie and dozed off
at 11. 1AM came, Graham was hacking and coughing (remember, he was very sick
when we left for the trip), coupled with the traffic outside the window and I
was completely awake. There was nothing I could do to go back to sleep! I
counted sheep, sung songs, imagined a white room. Then at 2 AM Graham woke up.
The traffic seemed to steadily grow; it was a Friday night so maybe that
attributed to it. We heard the ridiculously loud tram, a few loud drunks and a
woman crying at the top of her lungs as a taxi cab drove off. It was a wild
night. We both marveled at the weird scenario, then resigned ourselves to fact
we really had to get to sleep, especially since we had a 6AM train to catch. We
both laid in bed for three more hours without
saying anything before he dozed off. At 5AM, I fell asleep, I knew it would be
hard to wake up so I set around 10 alarms, figuring 1 hour of sleep would be
better than zero.
I opened my eyes
and thought oh no, what time is it?
It was 9AM. Our train left at 6AM. Another nail in the coffin that was quickly
becoming our trip. So I woke Graham up, who scratched his head at how we both
managed to sleep through ten alarms.
We packed up and walked for 5 minutes to the train station. Here is where
things got weirder. So, originally we passed by the “station” and I knew that
we needed to remember where it was, considering we took a differing station to
actually get to Milan.
Weirdly enough, it was underground, so we go down, finally figure out where to
go. Then I pulled out our ticket and tried to ask the worker for directions. The
worker could only say 1 word, “upstairs.” Well now this threw us for a loop, we
had just came from upstairs where there was nothing. So we became kind of
stressed, figured we should at least try his advice and went upstairs. There
was nothing, so we walked back downstairs speaking to another worker who could
only say “upstairs!” UGH. So by this point I began to panic. Here we are in
another country where no one can understand us and we can’t understand anyone
else. 40 minutes has past and I can’t believe our rotten luck.
Then we go
completely upstairs and I am very near to the edge of crying when I notice a
girl walking. She crossed the parking lot we were in to walk to a huge
abandoned building. Hmm, that wass strange. But next to the building is a police
car, so I figured we could try to mangle out some words to ask for help. As we
walk closer, I realize that the building is not abandoned, despite having
police tape around it. Of course it isn’t. We surpass the police cars and
realize OH. Yep, we had been looking
at it, but not paying close enough attention to focus on what it was. Then a
shock wave hits me and I am so surprised that I can’t feel embarrassment- we
were in a Metro station the whole time we thought
we were in a train station; oh to lead the life of a fool.
So it was nearing
10 o’clock, we went into the true train station where we turned down a scam
artist who tried to sell us tickets to talk with the Help Desk (free, but there
was a wait), and instead were forced to purchase another set of tickets, which
left at 11:30. So we went to McDonald’s to have a little down time, and waited
for our train.
Finally we boarded
our train, grateful to be getting away from the series of mishaps that made up
our time in Milan.
