By the way... Mi dispiace, il mio Italiano non e buono. Cio che scrivo e o molto rotto o Google Translate...
Like taking a step back into my childhood
I had one class on the first Monday that I was in Italy, this was covered in my last post, the Tuesday was an Italian public holiday... I think it was their version of Christmas or something, called Epiphany... Which meant a day off from study, a day off from school, and therefore a completely open day to do with it what I wanted... I slept heavy, but woke up early enough in the afternoon to make it to an event.
The event I chose to attend, on this most sacred of religious holidays, was the football match between AC Milan and Sassuolo. I didn't then, and still don't, know where Sassuolo is.
My room is in an apartment on Via Angelo Inganni, about a 30 second walk to the Inganni Metro station. To get to the arena from my apartment I needed to exit my apartment, cross the street, and wait at the bus stop for the number 49 bus... Just for my own practice, uscire mio appartemento, attraversare la strada e aspettare in l'autobus fermata... Yeah, that seems right...
Riding the bus is one thing, but riding the bus when in a city you're unfamiliar with, when you don't understand the language and don't feel confident speaking to people is another thing altogether... I spent most of the trip with my phone out checking where I was because frankly I felt a little bit like I'd landed on Mars and was trying to find my way around... I mean, I have been to Milan before, hell, I'd even been to San Siro before, but each time I had been there with a family member who could speak Italian in a crisis and would be able to bail me out of any trouble or ask for help... The bus is also nothing at all like riding the metro (I'm sorry, I know how obvious a statement that is), on the Metro if you mess up then you can only end up in so many places and you're always in the relative safety of a metro station where there are ticket attendants, a shitload of metro maps and cameras, if you go to the wrong place on the bus then there are no ticket takers at the stops and the best you have is the web of bus lines overlaid on the street map of Milan or praying someone can speak English (or your smartphone, but those aren't always your best friend in a time of crisis and are prone to being limited by battery life). Going to the football and not really having any idea where I was, just like when I was a kid...
I essentially just followed when everyone else wearing Milan Rossoneri got off the bus (this was after the bus turned off the route being shown on my phone... I guess it was a matchday detour...) and then walked a few blocks past apartment housing and the plethora of pop-up stalls selling Milan and Sassuolo paraphernalia... As I turned the corner to follow the normal bus route I could finally see the imposing Stadio San Siro, which looked like something as grey and dire as any arena I've ever been to...
It is a stadium shared by the two big football clubs in Milan: AC Milan and F.C. Internazionale Milano.
I am sure this is why there is no colours showing on the arena on match day, but it certainly makes you appreciate the Adelaide Oval, which for all its neutrality between Adelaide and Port Adelaide is illuminated in team colours depending on the home team and makes it feel much more like a home ground than walking into a grey box.
I was running super late and hadn't actually purchased a ticket, so rather than shop the plenty of options for a scarfe or a shirt or even take a photo of the arena to prove my point on how grey it was I tried to find a biglietteria (ticket office) and actually get a biglietto (ticket) to get inside. This was about 30 minutes before kickoff, and this was an absolute education. The ticket office was a round, blue building about 100m from the stadium gates, which had about 6 ticket windows on one side of the building, and therefore the requisite 6 lines... Unfortunately this was not at all signed and 6 lines became 12 lines, as people began queuing in the exit line... Some even got served which only caused fury from those around me... Thankfully my line was not a party to this kind of treachery, and I was served some 20-25 minutes later (did I mention there was a significant number of people around trying to buy tickets less than 30 minutes before kickoff?). Getting to the ticket window I was prepared for what to do based purely on watching others and knowing the one line to get me through... "Buongiorno, io non parlo bene Italiano, uno biglietto in Secondo Anello Blu per favore"... I handed over my passport to be scanned and have my details input (which ended up on the ticket), the time it took to get the ticket seemed a lot faster than anything that had gone before me whilst I was waiting in line, however, it might have just been relative. I had no idea where I was asking to sit, I just knew it was the cheaper seat available, which for 23 Euro I was very happy with.
I had already been to San Siro once, but not on a match day, so getting into the arena was something else (as compared to following a tour guide in 2003 when I couldn't understand anything she said... At least not understanding anything said to me hadn't changed). I first had to go to the gate, show a gate attendant my ticket and corresponding proof of ID, and then was patted down by a second gate attendant (but didn't have to take anything out of my pockets... In America that shit wouldn't fly, they'd make you take everything out of your pockets and then pat your down again). I wouldn't usually have to show proof of ID, but maybe it is a European thing? I don't know... Either way, I made it past security, scanned my ticket and walked through a turnstile that looked like some kind of metal revolving door, and I was inside the stadium.... Well.... The fence anyway... The stadium still stood in front of me, as imposing as ever, I asked where to go and was simply told to go up...
My ticket was in section 206, but when I got to the top of the dozen flights of stairs I found only access to sections 210-216, so I rushed back downstairs, was told again to go upstairs and then faced the same question when I arrived at the top... This was a great workout, but with kickoff imminent it was not my idea of a good time. I walked into section 214, tried to just stand around like many others seemed to be doing, but was told by a young man who was clearly not interested in my slow broken Italian and basically told me to not stand next to him... I assume because it wasn't allowed... Anyway, I walked to the back, assumed I'd have to stand at the back the entire time, then found a first aid person and they showed me to my seat... Turns out that you have to walk to the back, walk along the walkway behind the seats but inside the seating area, then down to my actual seat... Though, it was more just a place to stand than a place to sit... I had bought seats in what was essentially the cheer squad, so, no one sat down all game and they just chanted all game... This was the view that greeted me:
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| That flag was a pane, but it wasn't made of glass... |
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| Milan players celebrate |
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| The fans in Secondo Anello Blu celebrate |
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| 1-0 |
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| Lighting flares and leading chants |
Sassuolo scored an equaliser in the 28th minute with a wonderful volley which sent the thousa... hundre... dozens of travelling fans into raptures!
Case in point:
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| I count just over 50 people in the Visitor's section |
The game went to half time at 1-1.
It was amazing to see the lack of a police or stadium usher presence in the grandstand at my end of the pitch. I sat down at half time and made the most of nothing going on.
The second half was one of frustration for the Milan fans as Sassuolo scored to go ahead 2-1, and resulted in Milan having 20 minutes to chase a result.
This brought about some of the best comments from the crowd, virtually all born entirely out of frustration (something I can relate to as a fan)... I didn't understand much, just like when I was a kid at the football; all of the swearing went over my head. My favourite line for the match was "Dove cazzo vai?", which translates roughly to "Where the fuck are you going?"... That I understood lol
Milan ultimately lost the game 2-1, with the final 20 minutes being an absolute trial for the home supporters. Though they never stopped singing and chanting and the players did come over and thank them at the end of the game.
I ended up walking home because the traffic was so heavy that the buses would have taken longer than just walking (I actually didn't see a bus the entire walk home, and I used the same route as the bus).
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| Foul |
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| Ref with the magic spray |
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| Free kick taken |
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| The view inside San Siro with the sun setting |
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| Milan attack goal |
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| San Siro with all the lights on |
Standing around for an entire game, around a bunch of men who are smoking and drinking, swearing in a language which is foreign to me, some police presence and not being able to see that much of what is going on for large parts. Not knowing where I am, how to get home, or how to get out of the ground.
Standing around for an entire game, around a bunch of men who are smoking, swearing in a language which is foreign to me, zero police presence and not being able to see that much or understand what is going on for large parts. Not knowing where I am, the best way to get home, or how to get out of the ground.
The first one is me at the SANFL as a kid... The second one is me at San Siro as a 26 year old with a beard...
Like a taking a step back to my childhood.
A day in the life
I have gotten into a bit of a routine, which isn't a bad thing necessarily... The desire to get up and learn has not died off yet, which is good because (at the time of writing) I have 9 weeks to go.
I generally am trying to wake up and get out of bed no later than 7:40 AM, be showered and dressed by 8 AM, breakfast from 8-8:10/8:15 and out the door.
I have been eating cereal for breakfast... Uh... Io mangio cereali alle colazione... Which began with Frosties, moved on to Coco Pops and a very European looking Coco the Monkey (I guess Australian kids need a more hip breakfast cereal monkey) and when all the real and the knock off brands weren't available I have just recently bought a cereal called 'Cookie Crisp', which has me wondering whether I am eating a breakfast cereal or dog biscuits...
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| Tony: "Sono grandi!" |
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| Coco: "Proprio come un frappe il cioccolato, solo croccante" |
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| Sam: "Are these dog biscuits?" |
At Romolo I walk through the station corridors, past a coffee shop (always spruiking 'Panini con Nutella'... I really need to stop in there one day when I have time or have missed breakfast), underneath the roadway and then up to the street level for a 5-10 minute walk to the university campus where the school is located. Each morning I have to deal with a 4 way pedestrian crossing to get onto Via Carlo Darwin and the campus, this is the most worrying time each morning as I don't trust Italian drivers necessarily, not because they are bad, but because I have not grown up understanding their etiquette, and therefore crossing here and assuming that people will stop for me is always a worry in the back of my mind. Hang a left in the second set of gates, go to the second building, go right into the building, up to the second floor and you're at the school...
Class goes from 9 AM through until 12:15 PM, with a break from 10:30 until 10:45. I'm not going to go through what we've learned in class, but I will say that it has been a lot of fun, even though it is bloody difficult!
I have such a lot more respect for anyone who can speak a second language... Christ almighty, the first two weeks of this course I felt like I was a complete idiot... After a third week (when the classes split and I was put in the dunce class) I all of a sudden felt a lot better because I was actually able to answer questions and pick up a certain number of key words... Italiano รจ molto difficile!
Denise, a teacher from Miami, Florida, and I have been needlessly competitive at the end of every class when we always seem to end up on opposing sides of the game that is played in class for the final 5-15 minutes... She has even suggested we get a cup or crappy trophy so that we have something to compete over... I am trying to not be so competitive because ultimately it doesn't matter, but when the other team is getting points when they're having 3 bites at the cherry and we are only able to have one attempt, well, that really grinds my gears... Anyway, it has been more fun than bad, so that is a good thing... (I did have to explain the difference between sportsmanship and gamesmanship though!)
After class, if I am not going out with classmates to a cafe or ristorante, I will walk back to Romolo, catch the Metro to Cadorna, transfer to the red line and end up back at Inganni. From the station I generally walk to Pam (a supermarket nearby) where I tend to buy items for my afternoon and (lunch if applicable, and) dinner, then return to my apartment, eat, do my notes from the day's class (I have my workbook from class, and my clean book where my notes are semi-coherent and legible) and then either head out into Milan or relax.
That was a day in the life.
Australia, speaking Italian and the Lakes
It might sound odd, because I am on the other side of the world and really enjoying myself and seeing things I couldn't see at home, but I have had one or two moments of homesickness.
I would do absolutely unspeakable things to get my hands on a Vili's beef, cheese and bacon pie. I would love to be able to use a kitchen that works and make my Mac & Cheese or countless other things that require the use of a working oven. I would love to see my family and friends for a few days (then come back here to finish the course!). I understand that these things aren't happening until I get home in April, and I am fine with that, but it does sometimes cross your mind about how you miss the things at home that you love and the comforts that are afforded to you.
Travelling around by myself has given me a great deal of time to think about things in general. What I want out of life (still not resolved), other places I want to see (ongoing), how good things actually are in Australia (I'd kill for a pie right now)... It has also given me a number of occasions where I had wished, as I briefly touched on above, that I could see a familiar face, be it just to shoot the shit, be it to catch a Patriots/Celtics/Bruins game, or just simply to feel a bit closer to home.
It was therefore a wonderful thing when Ella, a friend from Adelaide, came to visit and hang out in Milan. Regrettably for both of us I am not much of a tour guide (as I have spent a lot more time worrying about my studies than worrying about seeing the city (and at any rate, I am trying to go on one school provided optional extra per week)), and was only able to show off the really obvious sites.
Ella came in on a Thursday on a train from Paris, and after I had completed my notes for the afternoon I headed over to her hotel near Centrale to meet her and to go see some of the city. It was wonderful seeing a familiar face, hearing an Australian accent (which wasn't either being imitated to me or a bogan in an American hostel) and being able to share stories of our trips. Ella has been/is touring around Europe on Top Deck tour buses (which by the sounds of her trip through Europe were boozier than both of my Contiki trips combined... So much for Top Deck being the classy tour company...(I'm not sure if that is misguided loyalty to Contiki there by the way, I just like to think my tours were the best!))
On the Thursday night we headed to Duomo and walked around for a while before finding a restaurant.
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| Duomo (Taken on a different night) |
It was the first time I'd been out to a restaurant in Italy during my time here, so, I did the obvious thing and ordered myself a pizza... The pizza in Italy does not come pre-cut, so it is a KFJ (Knife & Fork Job), and this can be somewhat frustrating when you're trying to cut a pizza which is already too big for the plate and you're almost knocking over things on the table.
It was fascinating listening to the stories she had from her tour; no doubt I was the guinea pig for the countless times she'll be telling the stories at home (though to get through the European portion of her trip it took about 3 dinners!). After dinner we walked through some of the back streets of the Duomo area and found a gelateria which I had been to a week or so prior on a walking tour (a tour which I got very little out of because it was all in Italian and my Italian is terrible... It was also a walking tour where I took the above photo of the Cathedral), the gelateria is amazing, and I will absolutely be going back again before I leave...
We headed back to her hotel so I could use the bathroom, I entered the hotel, went up to the room, and as soon as we got there the phone was ringing and we were told that I was not allowed to go further than the lobby... Apparently in Milan you have to have your passport on file or you must be a registered guest to go into a room... Who knew that was a thing? Anyway, I held on until I got home, so it was fine...
The following day was Friday, so I went to class, did my notes after class, and then, we met up again intending to walk through a street market (which my map of Milan told me would be running on a Friday... Or, at least, I though it would... I hope I didn't get my days mixed up... Giovedi, Venerdi, Sabato etc etc)... We met at Pagano Metro station, walked out of the station into the pouring rain, thought we'd gone the right direction to get to the market, worked out later that due to the pouring rain the market was likely not on, and decided to cut our losses and go into a bar.
A bar in Italy is generally a cafe. So, we went in, Ella ordered un caffe (though, I did the ordering, so if that wasn't what she wanted then too bad) and I ordered un cicciolatta calda (my mum has been telling me for weeks to get Italian hot chocolate)... I have no idea if the article I used was the correct one but the barista seemed to get the idea and brought out the right drinks. Coffee in Italy, based on what I've seen, is just a short espresso in a tiny cup... La tazzina?... I don't know, I need to look it up... The hot chocolate came in a normal sized cup, and I tell you what, it was amazing! Bloody thick though, it was like trying to drink a chocolate paste which was on the runny side as opposed to just drinking a normal liquid hot chocolate... Amazing!
As we got up to leave the cafe a gentleman began speaking to me in Italian, I understood a few words but not much... He said that I had a long beard... Something which included the words lunghi and la barba, which is why I understood any of it... This man had a bigger beard than me, so I said to him, in amazingly broken Italian, 'no, mia la barba e corti, tu hai lunghi la barba'... At this point he worked out that I was not a local and asked if I was German, I told him I was Australian, and that set him off on this tangent rant in which I managed to understand that he had a friend in Sydney, who was a professor in something at Sydney University... I said that I had family in Italy, when he asked where I replied with something like 'near Morbegno' (we didn't learn the word for 'near' until the following week... would have been helpful!), which set him off on another rant about him having lived near there for many years and all this... While this went on the barista and Ella both laughed at the exchange, the barista not being able to speak English, Ella not being able to speak Italian... The guy introduced himself as Lorenzo Croce, and said he was the president of something, I couldn't make out what, so he randomly left the cafe and told me to wait... I spoke to the barista in super basic Italian, which ended up with me using Google Translate to answer a question he had about the number of jobs available in Australia (I don't know enough Italian to bad mouth Tony Abbott to Italians yet). Lorenzo returned with a magazine... A trashy magazine... Which he was in, and took great pride in showing me that he was in the magazine... Right behind a two page spread about a husband who went nuts and killed his wife... Quality reading. It was a 10 minute conversation where I was floating with my head just above water and it was funny to everyone else. We eventually left, but it was a very interesting trip to a cafe... I did not expect to have afforded myself so well and so poorly all at the same time... I'm sure I'll learn much more in the weeks to follow.
We walked back to the Metro, through the pouring rain, and decided to go get dinner rather than spend any more time in the rain... And that was basically the day... The conversation at dinner was a continuation of hearing about the trip she had had. We walked back to her hotel, I was asked to leave because I was not a registered guest, and I returned home... I've never seen a hotel where you are not allowed inside unless you are a registered guest, this was very odd.
The following day we went out for a day trip to the town of Como, at the bottom end of Lago di Como. This involved taking a train from Cardorna up to Como, which took about 1 hour and only cost 4 Euro (which was pretty good I thought)...
It was not an especially nice day, quite cloudy and cold, but Lake Como is a beautiful part of the world. A spectacular part of the world!
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| Lago di Como |
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| Como |
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| Small towns built into the hill side |
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| Street market in Como |
After a ride around the lake we walked through the streets and through a street market where I found a towel to buy (I'm a bit sick of using travel towels) and managed to buy a bag of chips in Italian... Overall it was a solid two days of trying to speak Italian! It was a good day out, and we caught the train back to Milan for dinner.
The following day we intended on going to the soccer, but we both overslept and the day became meeting for dinner. It was a wonderful few days of seeing a friend, hearing stories and sharing our respective trips. After 2 months of being a lone traveller it was a wonderful 4 days of having a friend in town and being able to feel a bit closer to home and quell homesickness (though I am happy to be here learning).
Addicted to foreign candy
This is just something that happens to me... In America is was Reese's Pieces... In Italy, so far, it has been Milka chocolate bars with Oreo pieces... Absolute thing of addictive beauty...
Life imitating life
To close I will tell this short anecdote.
In class Friday two weeks ago we were asked to draw our home country on the whiteboard and then mark 3 cities and give 2-3 points of interest in each of them.
The class was still over 14 people strong at this point, and had a wide range of nationalities and ages... The Russian girl is a touch older than me... She got up, drew a large shape somewhere between an oval and a rectangle and marked St. Petersburg, Moscow, and her home city which I think was something like Catarineburg, but I don't know, anyway, that was fine...
The Ukrainian girl, 15 years old (why she was at a language school in Italy by herself I'll never know), got up and drew a map of her native Ukraine... About half way through the Russian girl stood up, shook her head, circled the Crimean Peninsula, and drew an arrow to her giant map of Russia...
Most of us who understood the significance of the actions of the Russian girl began to either laugh or stifle laughter...
The Russian and Ukrainian fighting over the Crimean Peninsula... Life imitating life...
