Made it to Milan!
Time is coming on 7pm local time, Sunday...the quick catch-up:
Let's see, I last left off in Heathrow airport...not much to add to that. I avoided the expensive pizza there, anticipating the expensive pizza in Italy. The flight to Milan itself was a non-event; I spent the bulk of it checking over the bible (aka Rick Steves guide) to get everything down for arrival (where to go, what bus/train to catch in to town, how to get to the hotel...). I even studiously (is that spelt right?) copied the major points into my little note book.
Great, so, we land, clear immigration etc, and out I go. Nothing looks remotely like what I read about. Maybe I should have paid more attention to which airport we were flying in to. Seriously. We flew into the little regional one. Sigh. Oh well, re-read the NEXT section of the bible, and off I go. buy the bus ticket, get on, then away away, to... well, I'm kind of guessing at this point. The Good Book says it's a twenty minute ride, so I just get off at the twenty minute point. Check my bearings, and holy moly, I'm actually at the stop I'm supposed to be at!
Now I put away Rick, and pull out Teri. My GPS. The Garmin. Like, Teri..Garr..min..ok? I'm on my own over here for a month, people; go with me on this one.
Anywho, Teri is already programmed with the location of the dark and dirty hotel I'm supposed to be aboding at, so away I go. Arrival is a quick ten minute walk, and in I go. Into the depths of people-dom. Thsi is like, Times Square for Milan. Within chanting distance of the Duomo cathedral, and also next to the Galleria, which is the major shopping area and hangout. Everyone who is anyone is here to be seen (and heard: they actually DO say Mama mia over here) shows up at something like 7pm (which is something like when I was there).
Right. So, hotel. Paul is right...the hallways are dark (not smelly), but the room is quite fine (especially to the sleep deprived). Tiny bed (but big enough for all I had in mind), shower, sink, bidet (will I ever get used to seeing a toilet with a tap on it?), what more do you need. Drop off the backpack, and head out into the depths of peopledom.
I'm pretty wiped by this time, so I just spend an hour or so checking out the neighborhood, taking it all in. Ordered my first Gelati (pointing and nodding a lot), won't be the last, I'm sure. Also nibbled on a pizza like thingy from the deli next to the hotel. Much better than what I remember of the Heathrow pizza. Sat and peoplewatched, then pulled out the bible to plan the next day's events. Then, off to my not-smelly bed to crash like there's no tomorrow.
Let's see, I last left off in Heathrow airport...not much to add to that. I avoided the expensive pizza there, anticipating the expensive pizza in Italy. The flight to Milan itself was a non-event; I spent the bulk of it checking over the bible (aka Rick Steves guide) to get everything down for arrival (where to go, what bus/train to catch in to town, how to get to the hotel...). I even studiously (is that spelt right?) copied the major points into my little note book.
Great, so, we land, clear immigration etc, and out I go. Nothing looks remotely like what I read about. Maybe I should have paid more attention to which airport we were flying in to. Seriously. We flew into the little regional one. Sigh. Oh well, re-read the NEXT section of the bible, and off I go. buy the bus ticket, get on, then away away, to... well, I'm kind of guessing at this point. The Good Book says it's a twenty minute ride, so I just get off at the twenty minute point. Check my bearings, and holy moly, I'm actually at the stop I'm supposed to be at!
Now I put away Rick, and pull out Teri. My GPS. The Garmin. Like, Teri..Garr..min..ok? I'm on my own over here for a month, people; go with me on this one.
Anywho, Teri is already programmed with the location of the dark and dirty hotel I'm supposed to be aboding at, so away I go. Arrival is a quick ten minute walk, and in I go. Into the depths of people-dom. Thsi is like, Times Square for Milan. Within chanting distance of the Duomo cathedral, and also next to the Galleria, which is the major shopping area and hangout. Everyone who is anyone is here to be seen (and heard: they actually DO say Mama mia over here) shows up at something like 7pm (which is something like when I was there).
Right. So, hotel. Paul is right...the hallways are dark (not smelly), but the room is quite fine (especially to the sleep deprived). Tiny bed (but big enough for all I had in mind), shower, sink, bidet (will I ever get used to seeing a toilet with a tap on it?), what more do you need. Drop off the backpack, and head out into the depths of peopledom.
I'm pretty wiped by this time, so I just spend an hour or so checking out the neighborhood, taking it all in. Ordered my first Gelati (pointing and nodding a lot), won't be the last, I'm sure. Also nibbled on a pizza like thingy from the deli next to the hotel. Much better than what I remember of the Heathrow pizza. Sat and peoplewatched, then pulled out the bible to plan the next day's events. Then, off to my not-smelly bed to crash like there's no tomorrow.
posted by Kevin Batycki at
9:48 AM
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