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Published: June 26th 2011
Sunday, June 26, 2011
Milan kicked my ass today. I’m going to the bar.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Today I was a little behind the learning curve. Milano is much heavier than Aosta, and I was not prepared for this. But I think I’ve learned from my mistakes and the next two days in town will be much more productive.
Leaving Small Town Italy I got up earlier than I had been and finished packing my bag before going to breakfast. As before, I was stuffed with cake homemade doughnuts and fruit cocktail. Toward the end of my meal, the breakfast room filled with a large group of joyously loud Italians. One of the women has sisters in Seattle and Portland, so we exchanged a brief conversation using what little English she knew and what little Italian I could fake knowing.
Afterward, I paid for my room and checked out. Cizia (Cheet-sia), my hostess, showed me to the gate and wished me good luck on the rest of my trip. I absolutely loved my stay at her B&B,
Maison Colombot. It was homey, and
she made every effort to make her guests comfortable. Aosta Valley would be great to visit by car, combining the trip with the little Alpine villages on the French side too. If I was to come back, I would go directly to this place.
Rules? What Rules? By the time I got to the train station, it was nearly 10am. I stayed up late studying my Eurail guide to make sure I followed the steps to validate it correctly. It’s super simple, but in the hustle-and-bustle of Milan when I was trying to get to Aosta, I just bought a direct ticket without using my pass. The man at the Aosta ticket window didn’t follow procedures as they were laid out in the guide, but in small-town Italy, I should not have expected much more.
Where I Learn the Value of My Time It took three hours to get to Milano, connecting Aosta-Chivasso-Milano. Once I arrived, I spent over half an hour trying to figure out (1) how to get a bus ticket, and then (2) where I was supposed to catch my bus to the hotel. I found the bus stop ten minutes too late, and the
next bus wasn’t coming for another hour. So I admitted defeat and hired a taxi. In Milano, where time really is money, I figured this would be cash well-spent. On the way to the hotel, the taxi actually passed the bus I missed, further validating my decision to take a cab.
Like I said before, Milano is the Tacoma or Federal Way of Italy. Lots of business, few nice parts of town. It was very difficult to find a “local” hotel, so I went the safe route and booked a room at the Best Western. And no, I don’t think I’m a sell out. Considering the general level of hotel reviews for Milano, an American chain was the most reasonable decision. And the staff speaks English, taking a tiny bit of strain out of the equation. Once I was checked in, I took a break to get over the road buzz.
I’m Lost but Making Good Time I knew if I didn’t get out of my room soon, I would end up hibernating all night, which is not the point of being in a foreign country. So I set out in search of the Duomo and mall, just
Leonardo Statue
He did most of his work in Milanoas a preview. With some trouble, I got on the right street car line headed to the Duomo. I missed my stop, of course, and zig-zagged through the expensive shopping district. I ended up on a side entrance of the Victor Emmanuel II Mall, which confused me at first. Where was I? This looks right, but where is the cathedral? I crossed the heavily trafficked pathways of the mall and finally came to the grand piazza, the Duomo looming on the left.
It was 15 minutes before closing and an army of people were marching out the doors. I wondered if the church staff had similar tactics as Disney for getting guests out on time. I grabbed a gelato and people watched. There were so many tourists; it was nice to blend in. Tuesday I would come back to fully explore.
In Which Milano Wins Again When I decided it was time to return to the hotel, I realized that I didn’t know which tram to take or where to find it. For a while I just followed the line of tracks I knew would lead me to the hotel, but that was a few miles away still.
I did come across the Sforza Castle, which was intimidating just to look at. I’ll be back for that one on Tuesday, too. Taking a chance, I got onto a tram that appeared to be moving in the desired direction. It worked! I recognized the land marks we passed, to a point. Closer to where I thought I should disembark, the neighborhood changed. I got off immediately and made my way towards the nearest familiar landmark. Map in hand, I found my location in relation to the hotel and maneuvered through the neighborhood until I found my mark. Now the score was Milano-3, Stephanie-2. I was so glad to get back to the hotel before dark; this is not a neighborhood where you take a midnight stroll.
Dinner and a Drink There was a pizzeria just down the street from the hotel, so I strolled down there and ordered something that might have sounded good. I was relying on the fact that Italian pizza has very few ingredients, so most orders can’t go too wrong. As I was waiting an Australian family came in. I started a conversation in English, which surprised them. It’s startling to be surrounded by
Italian gibberish and suddenly hear your own language spoken to you. Although Australians don’t exactly speak English. (“ kind of like an evil version of accent.” – Flight of the Conchords)
Back in my room, with frighteningly orange walls, I ate dinner and enjoyed my free Coca Cola, courtesy of the guy who made my pizza. I appeared to have ordered pork with ham. Pork is not the same as ham, they are two different ingredients. But I like it. The hotel website advertised having an American bar. I think they took liberties with that description, but they had liquor (not rum!) and wine. I ordered a glass of white wine to take to my room. Totally worth the outrageous €8 that will probably show up on my bill.
My Drug of Choice All of the English channels available on the TV are fashion-based. I’ve been having withdrawals from Project Runway since I gave up cable, and this is like the heavy version of that drug being blasted straight to my brain. I’m glued to the screen.
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Mom
non-member comment
always good to get lost and be found again
Best way to figure out a town/city is to get lost and find your way again - like driving in Seattle for the first few times. It all makes sense after a while. Now that you've found your way again, have a great time finding those places Tuesday! How was the wine?