Milano!!!

MILANO Thursday December 11th I had a flight to Milan, or, Milano. I would rather we just stuck to the native spelling because it does tend to confuse things when you’re trying to catch a train. I got up and headed to the train station. I wasn’t sure which train to catch, but I knew I was heading to Gatwick Airport, and my flight was for 2:15pm. I purchased a ticket from the vending machine and then asked one of the informants at the gate about where I should go. He said, “This is a FCC train ticket.” Apparantley he was working for Southern, another rail company. “The next train leave from platform 10 in 12 minutes.” I thanked him and headed down there. When the guy came around to check my ticket, half way through the journey, he said, “This is an FCC ticket.” I assumed I was on a Southern train, but I didn’t understand why I was given directions to the next southern train from someone who had first told me my ticket was FCC only. I asked him why I would have been told any different, but the problem with explaining yourself is that many people don’t tell the truth all the time, or they at least aren’t overly concerned with correct details. I try not to explain too much because it feels like I’m being listened to in the same manner as all the liers that came before me. He says he’s going to change the ticket, I guess charge me for another ticket without fining me for showing up without a ticket. I could accept that, but I was still upset about the guy who had misguided me. Then he says, “Wait a minute. FCC is having trouble with their trains today, maybe we are allowing their tickets on today, don’t worry about it.” “ Are you sure?” “Yeah, don’t worry about it.” It worked out fine.__________________________________________________________________________________________ The train was about 30 minutes late due to ...... what was it they called it? I can’t remember but I believe it was something like a line problem ahead. When we arrived I was early for check in, so I sorted a few things out before boarding. Packed my jacket into my bag and threw out some old tissues etc. I checked in at 12:45pm and then proceeded to the area where you can buy duty free, over priced goods. After purchasing an over priced Sweet Ty sandwich, that really didn’t taste the way it should, along with some Pringles, I bought a chocolate bar to bog down the taste of the sandwich I had eaten. While eating the chips I discovered that my flight was delayed until 4:25, or 15, or 45. I think it was 4:15pm. I wrote a bit and watched Rudolf during that time, then got on the flight to Milano.___________________________________________________________________________ When we landed I got in line to work on my stamp collection, and then discovered my line was moving faster because it was for European’s only. Once I got through the passporting I went for my luggage. There were only a few bags left going around, and after 5 minutes I realized non of them were mine, and there weren’t any new editions showing up. I had a look around and realized I was at the wrong carousel. I went to the right one and grabbed my bag before heading out to decode the bus system. I was at the right bus, but it wasn’t in English and I wanted to make sure I didn’t just hop on the wrong bus, cus I do that sometimes, so I walked round and check the others and where they were heading. I safely concluded that I was as right as I was going to be, but I was still a little nervous about the language barrier as I had just landed and was uncertain about whether or not I would find kindness in the hearts of these new found people.________________________________________________________________________________ When my bus comes back around I get on with few hitches, as it turns out the bus driver was friendlier than he looked. As we are pulling away some guy runs up to the door and flags the bus down to stop. As we are stopped more and more people come until about 20 extra bodies are on the bus and we are running 10-15 minutes late. Whatever, I got there fine, and my friendly driver even pointed me in the right direction. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t hold any stereotypical beliefs about Italians, but I always feel bad about not knowing the language of the country I’m in, so I expect people to be upset with me for this fact. In general they haven’t been. _____________________________________________________________________________ I make my way from the station over around the corner where i expect to find the tram, but it took a little more poking around and a little more walking to eventually find it. When I get to the tram some guy next to me with a snowboard says something I don’t understand, so I say “English?” At which point he asks me, in a British accent, “Do you have the time?” From thereI asked him where he was riding and we chat about snowboarding, travel, school, and What to see in Milan. He told me about this restaurant to go to, as I had asked him where to go for good Italian food. I wont say too much more about him because it might seem sketchy to describe someone who you knew for 20 minutes._________________________________________________________________________ I get off at the stop right in front of my hostel and go up to my room to settle a little. It’s about 10pm now so I ask the front desk where is a good place to eat, and he directs me to a little spot just a few doors down. Maybe he didn’t think I was up for the walk, but none the less, this Chinese run Chinese food restaurant, also sports a mean Pizza, baked in a stone oven with no oil that I could detect, and a very thin crust, the kind dad likes. It wasn’t cut up so I got a few looks walking down the sidewalk with my head over an open pizza box , tearing pieces of dripping pizza off. It wasn’t til later I noticed a big drooly looking stain of cheese juice down my jacket. It was good, and after that I made my way through streets I didn’t know. I kept a general idea of where I was going, but general is not always specific enough, and at the end of the night, after a McCafe delectable, that tasted like Purity lemon biscuits, I meandered my way back, eventually finding my way to shower and bed. Day 1 a Milano, se Fineto.