A Comedy of Errors

Right now I’m writing from my hotel room in Milan. I got here this afternoon, and will meet my dad at the airport tomorrow morning when he flies in so we can get the rental car and start our adventure. My day started out with me sitting on my suitcase, attempting to zip it around the $40 pillow I bought at the start of my term in Geneva (it was the cheapest one I could find). I don’t care if I’ll I can get a new pillow in London, I’ve never spent that much on a pillow before so I’m taking it with me even if it kills me! The next highlight was my getting in a fight with the taxi driver who drove me to the train station in Geneva, as I was told the cab ride would be 15CHF and I made sure that’s the exact amount I had so I would have no Swiss currency left after leaving Switzerland. He spoke no English, I speak no French, and when we got there, he sign-languaged to me that the fare would be 18CHF with an additional 4CHF for my two bags (which I put in the cab myself and just sat in the trunk the whole time). I told him I only had 15CHF, and he signed for me to go in an exchange some money. I told him no and just threw a few Euros at him and got myself and my bags out of the taxi. He cursed at me in French and I just walked away. My next challenge was trying to get my two suitcases, purse, and two carry-ons onto the train by myself. I didn’t think it would be that hard until the train doors opened and I saw that I had to pretty much climb a three-rung ladder to get into the train. Since I was slowing down the line to get onto the train, a nice Italian man helped me. The train four-hour train ride went smoothly, and I had a fabulous salami sandwich for lunch purchased from the man with the food cart going up and down the aisles, but when we started slowing down to stop at the Milano Centrale station, I started sweating just thinking about how I was going to get myself and my bags off the train. My nice Italian man had gotten off at an earlier stop! It ended up that I put my backpack on my back, hung my tote and purse around my neck facing forward, and threw one bag down the “steps” onto the platform (luckily it did not hit any unsuspecting pedestrians) and dragged the other down behind me. I’m sure it was quite the sight.

I checked into my hotel, and threw on my quintessential European outfit—skinny jeans, flats, cute jacket, and a scarf, in an attempt to fool any pick-pocketers looking for tourists. I spent the afternoon sightseeing and shopping here in Milano, and had dinner at a café on the main pedestrian street—my first time eating at a sit-down restaurant by myself. I got a seat right on the street so I could do some people watching, but decided I am very bad at people watching. After a few minutes, my mind starts to wander and I forget to look at the people! I made it back to the hotel before dark, as I didn’t want to be wandering around a strange city by myself at night.

Tomorrow morning will once again begin with me trying to shove my $40 pillow into my suitcase. Hopefully the hotel’s free rooftop breakfast promising “breathtaking” views of Milano will make up for it.