Milan, Italy

    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.