I
have conquered two days in Italy. I wasn’t sure I was going to survive my first
trips to or in Milano, but somehow I managed. The following recounts my misadventures
on Sunday and Monday. Fortunately I can laugh about all of it. Except for the
man with red teeth. That will never be funny. But I’ll get to that.
 |
| Turate. A cute little town North of Milan. |
I
arrived in Milan bright and early (6 am) Sunday morning after taking a train from Paris.
The train was an interesting experience, not ideal but it was better than
flying (and so much cheaper.) Getting to the station was the worst part. I have
two suitcases, one is carry-on sized and the other is massive. I believe I
mentioned in my other post that the wheel broke on it. And this time I didn’t
have someone else to pawn my luggage on. I thought I was prepared. I am
physically capable of moving and lifting the suitcase even though it’s difficult.
I was only a few steps out
when someone didn’t get out of my way (sorry, I can only move this giant
suitcase on a tiny sidewalk so far), and I ran over her toes. I wasn’t prepared
for was how sore my forearms would be from rock climbing the day before. It was
hard to grip my suitcase, let alone move it anywhere. What was already going to
be a difficult task was turning impossible.
Toes run over: 2
I
stood at the top of the menacing stairs down to the subway and some nice guy
offered to carry my heavy bag down the steps. I let him do so because I knew it
would be almost physically impossible for him to run off with it. After getting
through the turnstyle, I set off down two more flights of stairs. Then, I had
to switch stations which meant I had to walk down even more stairs. And the
only thing I could think was that I might never get back up all these steps.
This just isn’t going to happen. But I got on the next train and prayed for the
best.
Toes run over: 4
On the next subway one boy looked geniunely
frightened of how big my bag was. It could have been because he was standing
next to it and was afraid it would topple and crush him any moment.
It was heavier than him. I got off at the train station and almost
cried. Escalators. The greatest gift
straight from Jesus himself. (That’s probably blastphemous, so if it’s not the
very best, it’s definitely up there.) If I wasn’t already so tired I might have
done a celebratory dance.
I managed to get on the train
and the guys I shared a compartment with were pros at packing luggage into the
room. I settled into my bed and ate my yogurt. (I had asked for an apple at the
store and even repeatedly said “pomme” but they still gave me pinapple yogurt.) I was exhausted from lugging that
bag around for about 2 hours and fell straight asleep.
Final toe count: +6
The train was nicer than an
airplane because I actually could lay down and fall asleep, but it was at least
85 degrees and we couldn’t get the heater to turn off. I also kept waking
myself up because I wasn’t sure if anyone would wake me up in Milan or not. Not
to mention the fact that I was concerned the security guard took my passport on the train. He took
everyone’s and they didn’t seem too worried. So I figured I would get it
back. (I did, but he didn’t stamp
it :( )
I met the father of the family I am living with at the station, and he took me home to Turate and
showed me the house. This house rocks.
I was going to consider myself lucky if I had a room to myself with a dresser.
I most certainly do.
I also have a living room,
kitchen and bathroom all to myself. It is awesome.
The family I live with is
very very nice. From what they’ve said, they are a typically middle-class,
northern Italian family. And they all speak English to some degree. The dad and
the son, who is 19, are fluent. The mom and the daughter, who is 16, speak and
understand the basics. They spend their days at work or at school, so I have
the days to entertain myself.
 |
| Palazzo |
Monday, I ventured into Milan,
and it was a wholly an interesting, weird experience. Turate is a small town.
There is a train station here, but my family told me taking the one in Saronno was
better and that one leaves every 30 minutes. So in the morning, I was dropped
off at the train station and they told me once my SIM card started working in
my cell phone, I could call Nico for a ride home, as long as it was after
school. I had all their numbers written down on a post-it note.
I went into the station,
bought a ticket for Milan and back. Just as I bought my ticket, I saw a train
pull up. I didn’t know where this train was going, but I knew another wasn’t
coming for 30 minutes. I made the split second choice to get on and figure the
rest out later. So I got on and found that the map was only a local one of
Milan, and not at all helpful. At this point I figured I’d just see where I
ended up. We made three stops that didn’t look very Milan-y. So I kept riding.
We got to a fourth and everyone was
getting out, so I did too.
 |
| They were doing a lot of construction on the Palazzo. A lot of it need a facelift. But it added to the character! |
I started walking around the
square outside the train station, looking for a place that sold maps or really
gave any indication that I was in fact in Milan. I assumed I was, because it was
a big city. But I wasn’t 100% sure. It took me a surprisingly long time to find
a map, ( I was in Milan) but I did and found my first planned stop, Plazzo
Sforzesco. After exploring there, I had been told to walk down Via Dante and
make my way toward the Duomo and then the Galleria for some (window) shopping.
I managed to navigate without
too much difficulty, but I did notice that scam artists and creepy people were
a lot pushier to me now than they were in Paris. I don’t know if it’s because
I’m alone now or if they act that way toward everyone, but I had to tell the
guys at the Palazzo that “I DO NOT want your bracelet I know it’s not free.
Seriously GO AWAY.” Eventually I got away from them.
After the Galleria, I sat
down to decide where I should go next, but some man thought I was lost. I
wasn’t. But he was pointing out things on the map that I should see. It didn’t
really bother me until he started holding my hand. He asked how old I was, and I
said I’m 21. He told me he was 59 and said “Oh… I am too old for you. Unless... you think I’m not?” I told him he most definitely way was too old for me. Then
he said he loved me and we could get married. I declined as politely as I could
and walked away very quickly. I
really can’t emphasize enough the near dead sprint I was in.
 | ||||
Duomo del Milano. They were doing construction on the top so didn't get one straight on.
|
 |
| Oh you didn't know Mercedes Benz also made clothing and luggage? Peasant. |
After that, I’d had enough of
the city, and I decided to head back. I knew it might be a little early for
anyone to be able to get me but I knew I would feel better going home. That’s
when my cell phone, with 50% battery, decided it was actually dead and refused
to turn on. Panic.
But there’s nothing I can do
about it and I figured I deal with getting to Sarrono then worry about getting
home. I got on the train and after many more stops than there were in the
morning, I made it to Saronno and hopped off. I took one look around and
realized this was not right. I then see the sign actually says:
Saronno
Sud
Sud. That dang tiny word
meant I was at the south station, not the main one. (Okay, it might not have
been that small, but still.) I ponder
my choices, wait 30 min for the next train to come or walk to the other station
I can vaguely see down the tracks (no, I’m not about to tell you I walked on
train tracks, don’t worry mom.) I decide I need to find a bathroom anyway and
that, since I know the tracks move in a straight line, I could find the next
station. So I began my epic odyssey through this foreign city where almost no
one speaks English without a functional cell phone to figure out how to get to
the station. And the best part is
I still don’t have a way home from the station.
I do eventually get there
after about 30 minutes of walking (Saronno is a very cute town.) I felt very
empowered because I’d never actually had to do anything like that alone before.
So I started looking for
people who would let me use their cell phone. I asked the legit looking people,
but none of them spoke enough English to understand what I was asking. As per
my luck, the creepiest guy so far (his teeth were circles with red fillings
(??) in the middle. I’m dead serious. It was terrifying) offered to let me use
his phone. But no one answered. Mr. Creepster then asked, “What’s your name”
Me: “Kathleen” (I either tell who people I don’t want to know my name I’m Kathleen
or Shelby. Don’t ask, I just like the
name. My name is entirely too easy to trace.)
Creepy: “So you have a phone
number?” (Me *in my head: “Obviously not, otherwise I wouldn’t have to use
yours. DUH*) Me: No. Creepy: So
how am I going to call you? Me: You’re not. Creepy: Where are you going? Me:
Turate. Creepy: I’ll give you a ride there. Me: Absolutely not.
At this point, I’m getting
pretty good at spriting away from creepy people.
After maybe 20 minutes of
wandering and asking random shop vendors, I found a nice guy who let me use his
phone and made it home. All told, my adventure home took at least 2
hours.
Anyways, that’s been my life.
I’m heading into Milan again tomorrow and Monday I am going to check out a
climbing gym in Milan. If you stuck with this long post, thank you. One day I will channel my inner Hemmingway, but it might take me a while. Ciao!
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