(I should point out also, that once we hit Monday in this post it is unlikely that this blog will continue in a day to day format, considering I am going to be in the same place and for the express purpose of going to a language school, so I will probably just post and odd entry here and there...)
Thursday, 1 January 2015, about 5:30 PM in New York
After finishing the last blog post I went off and got some dessert, mostly just to get rid of my last little bit of American money. I leave the United States with a 'souvenir' $1 bill (as like my last trip to the USA, my final $1 will be used as the first $1 spent for my next trip) and 58 cents in various coins...
The plane boarded earlier than I had expected (i.e. walked back from my ice cream and got straight in the line). I was all the way back in row 50, which served a positive for two reasons and a negative for one. Positives were I got to board before those at the front, and I got an aisle seat; negative was I would be one of the last ones off and I had a tight turnaround in Heathrow to get my connection to Milan.
The flight was fine, I mean, it was only 5 hours and 50 minutes based on what we were told... Less than flying to Singapore from Adelaide... It was about midnight in London when we took off from JFK. We were served some dinner virtually immediately, which came as I was trying to sleep, so I quit that goal and just ate... Airline Shepherd's Pie, very terrible, but very British... The whole experience was very British, from the Captain's address to the stewards and stewardesses, with many words I'd not heard in America coming out and a significant spike in the use of the word 'quite'... I.e. it is quite a nice day in London, it will be quite a short flight etc... This was true for the most part, the flight was quite short, well, when compared to Sydney-Los Angeles anyway...
After the average dinner I watched Michael Bay's Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, which was just awful, I mean, the Ninja Turtles, along with probably Fireman Sam, were the first TV show heroes I ever really got behind and to see them depicted in that Michael Bay film was just a travesty.. Furthermore, April O'Neill never seemed quite that inept in the 1980s cartoon, and the cameraman in the cartoon was never as cool as Will Arnett... Not even to mention the origins of Splinter in the original series and what they said it was in the film, I mean, Hamato Yoshi would be rolling in his grave if he were a real person who got mutated into a rat and, I assume, died of old age... Fundamentally I was annoyed my this film in a lot of ways...
Lets say Friday...
Depending entirely on where you think the day began... It could conceivably have begun while sitting on the tarmac in New York as the clock hit 6 PM...
Difficult to sleep after the film but I needed to considering that I was disembarking at around 6 AM GMT, which was about midnight in New York.
Arriving on the other side of the pond we did about 3 laps of London as we waited for permission to land. This was almost as annoying, but not quite as bad, as the film... I needed to be at the gate for my flight to Milan no later than 7:20 AM, and the ticket pouch I had been given at JFK noted that I would need an hour to traverse the airport to make my connection, so as we circled and circled and circled and I watched the clock tick and tick and tick, I became really concerned...
We eventually landed and I disembarked at 6:35 AM and then began the minefield that was connecting through London Heathrow... I was in something of a rush, as previously established, I was told it would take me an hour and I needed to be at the gate by 7:20 AM, so I briskly walked by others who were lazily walking through Heathrow, and then, after working out where to go, was made to wait for a train to the A gates or the B gates, I can't remember which... After the train came and took me to the next terminal (which I think included arrivals) I walked past the UK Border and, much to my chagrin, I had to go through another checkpoint... This was only a ticket and passport check, but still, it was a line... Worse was to come, as I headed up some escalators and found a security screening... I mean, I am all for security, and making sure people don't do the wrong thing and all that, but given that everyone in the line was making a connection, and therefore would already have gone through a security screening, why force them to go through another one? Making people take out their laptops, again, making people take off all their jackets, again, making people wait in line, again... I mean, it isn't a big thing, but it is infuriating in so many ways! And given the time squeeze that was going on, waiting in a line at 7:10 AM is a little disconcerting... I had my backpack with my laptop, I had a plastic bag from Fenway Park with a couple of pairs of shoes and electronics, I was wearing two jackets and I was not at all keen to take everything out of my bags and off my back to go through another fucking checkpoint (there were about 15 screening points and I managed to pick the one with the family/people at the front who had no idea and had about 10 laptops between them)... I got through the checkpoint, rushed down the stairs, found my departure gate, rushed down another set of stairs and made it to the gate, just in the nick of time, at 7:19 AM... I hopped on a bus which had maybe 20 people on it, and we were taken to the plane after a short drive... It was odd listening to non-American accents again and it was nice to be driving on the left again, albeit for 3 minutes on the way to a plane...
The connecting plane to Milan was like one you'd be taking from Adelaide to anywhere... 3 seats on either side of the aisle and a pretty average/old interior, no individual entertainment system... (That said, the plane from New York to London was pretty average/old as far as interior and entertainment system went... British Airways personal entertainment system was shit if I'm being honest, Qantas on the way over from Sydney to LA was infinitely better)... And the 20 people on the bus were also the only people on the plane, so, there were multiple empty rows... I had an aisle seat, there was someone sitting in the window seat... I was too tired and couldn't be arsed moving... I slept for half the flight (it was about 90 minutes) and ate for the other half (I had breakfast twice, once coming into London, once coming into Milan)... I was in row 11, so basically over-wing, and the guy in the window seat clearly hated this, as he spent most of the flight trying to get photos out the window on his phone... The typical 'I'm on a plane' Instagram thing no doubt... Half way through the flight he moved beyond me and I was left to a row to myself, though, to be fair, I could have moved across the aisle as soon as we took off and had an row to myself... It didn't matter, with the guy exiting his seat I still had a wonderful view of the snow capped Italian Alps on the descent into Milan.
Exiting the plane I worked my way through Malpensa Airport and got to the border of the European Union, where I was asked no questions, had my passport stamped, and walked straight through into baggage claim... This was before the carousel had begun spinning, so, as others slowly filtered through passport control I waited for the baggage carousel to begin and do its thing... And it began... And the bags began to filter down... Though, with so few people on the flight, very few bags came out... And of those very few bags, mine was not one of them... I waited, more in hope than anything else, for another 5-10 minutes, as an Australian family of 4 were sitting around beside where I was standing opening their bags to pull out some warm clothes. It was a super annoying, and I began to walk towards the lost property end, got half way there, turned back, stood at the carousel for another 2 minutes, again just in hope, and then walked to lost property... (At this point I had a nosebleed, which I think was due to spending so long on planes and not due to the stress of losing a bag... My reason for this is that the same thing happened on the first day in Los Angeles when Dad was checking in for the marathon he wasn't meant to be running, though maybe that nosebleed was due to the stress of him running a marathon he wasn't meant to be running)... I stood in the wrong line for 5 minutes, eventually found the right line (this was stupid of me, I went straight for the line of people rather than checking the signs for the British Airways affiliate... Going and standing in line when I didn't have to? Yep, I've become everything I used to hate), and then spoke to the person behind the desk to make my claim... As I didn't have a phone number yet, finding a number for the purpose of calling to get my bag became the top priority of things to do for the day... I was also very lucky that I had my soon-to-be address on me so that they had a place to deliver it before I even got my number. The woman confirmed that my bag was left behind in London, she expected due to the short layover, and would be taken into Milan in the late afternoon.
I had done as much as I could have done, so I left the baggage area which had nothing for me and walked into Italy.
I was picked up by Marina, an extended family member who lives in Milan, and her neighbour Franco. They greeted me, asked me why I didn't have a bag, and after I explained they commented that that must have been why I took so long to get out (the plane was due to land at 10:30 AM, and it did, but my baggage issues pushed me back to around 11-11:30 AM)... Marina and Franco both spoke English to varying degrees, which was wonderful because my Italian is merda.
They took me into Milan which is about a 30-45 minute drive from Malpensa Airport, and after some issues with the GPS, we found our way to my home for the next 12 weeks, a room in a shared apartment at Via Inganni 99. We met the landlady who showed me through and gave me the choice of two rooms, one with two beds (I could only use one) and one with a single bed, but was warmer and had some closets to put all my clothes... I took the second room... I was instructed to not leave my bag on the ground (with no bag this was easy!) and was given some instructions as to the rules of the house. I also met my housemate for the first two days of my stay... Some Japanese guy whose name I didn't learn... I didn't deliberately not learn it, he just said it once really quickly and was only staying for another 2 nights, so I didn't push the issue and ask because in all probability I wouldn't be seeing him anyway...
With a place to store my limited belongings and a set of keys, I went back downstairs with Marina and went to the car to go try to get a mobile number for me. This involved a trip to Vodafone Village, which I assume was an office for Vodafone, because the actual store wasn't much bigger than a normal store... Though, much to our disappointment, the store was closed for lunch (we were about 3 minutes late), so we tried another store for a SIM (which was like going to Dick Smith's Electronics for a Telstra contract) and were unsuccessful, so Marina and Franco dropped me off home and left me to my own devices. I had to wait for 3 PM for the store to re-open, so I laid down and rested for a bit, I chatted to home (which, all of a sudden, was 10 hours in front of me as opposed to 16 hours ahead of me, which may not sound significant, but it completely changes the times of day where it is acceptable to be calling home), though, I wasn't really in the mood to talk given my lost luggage, closed phone store and lack of sleep...
I eventually got up and walked about 2km back to Vodafone, where I took a number (after struggling terribly with the machine which despite selecting English as a language was not in English), waited for about 20-30 minutes, and then was helped by a girl who spoke very basic English, which was enough, and despite her talking herself down, she was doing a lot better than me, so there were no complaints from me. She did nearly take a page out of my passport by accident, but no harm was done, so, no foul, at least, I'm pretty sure it is still useable...
Anyway, this was basically the end of my day... I walked back to the apartment, passed the shops, grabbed some bread and snacks and water and headed back to my room. I was so tired and felt dirty and in desperate need of a shower, but with no change of clothes or a towel I was just going to have to deal with being filthy until my bag arrived... So, having arrived home, I ate, watched some TV (see computer) and went to bed early... I got a phone call at about 9 PM from the airport (which woke me up) noting that my bag had made it from London to Malpensa, and would be in the hands of a courier, which would deliver the bag the following day...
I then made it back to bed...
Saturday
Well, time differences and no bag/change of clothes kind of play a role here... Saturday was non-existent... I woke up at awful times of the night, then again at 5 AM... I received a phone call at about 9:30ish in the morning saying that my bag would be delivered to me at lunchtime or in the early afternoon... Now, I was still feeling super out of it, super tired and super dirty, but I figured I could stay in bed for a few hours and wait it out... Frankly I was feeling worse on Saturday than I was on the travel Friday...
This is basically all that went down... Midday came and went... 3 PM came and went... I called the courier service, at 4:15 PM, who told me the bag was on its way... About a half hour later I got a call from a courier driver who didn't speak English, and was at the front gate; 'duo minuti', and I headed down to the front gate and after 2 long days of being bagless and smelling like a foot, I was reunited with my bag! I unpacked it and settled in for 12 weeks...
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| Good to see you again old friend |
Sunday
Much in the same way as Saturday, I woke up at about 5 AM and couldn't get back to sleep... I got up eventually, showered, had some food and then headed out to do a dry run of my trip to school...
This took me from my stop on the Red line of the Metro (M1), Inganni, to Cardorna to change to the Green line (M2) ending up at Romolo on the Green line... The whole trip took maybe 30 minutes, so at least I knew where I was going the next morning, I really didn't want to be going somewhere without knowing when time would be a factor the following morning (lets face it, I am not a morning person despite the 5 AM time-zone issue wake ups)... Rather than just going straight back to my apartment I decided to go to the Duomo stop and the great Gothic cathedral that is in central Milan, but when I got there I found a massive street market going on selling all kinds of foods and assorted wares.
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| Amazing to walk out of the Metro stop to this sight |
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| Crazy! |
I headed home and met Luiza, an 18 year old Brazilian girl who was staying two rooms down from me and her parents and grandmother who were dropping her off... They were going to the shops, though I informed them that the shops next door were closed (I was going to buy ingredients for Cheesey Mac) but it turned out they had a car and were going somewhere else, and they invited me to join them, so I took the chance and went to the better stocked store which was open late on a Sunday (no idea where it was by the way)... So, I did some shopping, and then headed back in their car, was dropped off and cooked.
By the way, finding the right ingredients when everything is in a foreign language is a lot more difficult than you'd think... I reckon I'll be eating a lot of steaks and eggs and the easily made foods... Why I am not baking or having frozen food will become clearer in about 20 seconds
Cooking in a foreign kitchen was interesting... And when I say foreign, I mean a kitchen less stocked with utensils than my own... I put the pasta on, I made my sauce and turned on the oven... Only the oven didn't turn on... We called the landlady and through broken Italian/Portuguese we found out that the oven was broken... Could be a long 12 weeks with no oven to speak of... I just put the sauce on top of the pasta, but given that it was a white sauce the pasta was super bland... Luiza and the Japanese bloke, who turned up half way through to stay in another room, were very complementary, but I was disappointed with how it turned out... Perhaps just pre-made sauces from now on... I made enough for 3 people, but the others ate very little, so the leftovers were enough for me for the next two nights!
After this I cleaned up and went to bed, ready for my first day of class the following day!
Monday
I woke up super early ready for class (also woke up at 5:30 AM again without trying, the time zone difference really knocked me for 6!), not wanting to be late, not wanting to miss the shower (the joy of being in a share house before is that I know that I want to be the first into the shower for hot water and choice of shower!) and knowing that I needed to lead 3 other people on the Metro to the school (the joy of the prior day dry run!).
I had breakfast in Italian:
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| Ho mangiato cereali a colazione |
The school I am attending is Scuola Leonardo da Vinci which offers a course for foreigners to learn to speak Italian in Italy. They have schools in Milan, Florence, Rome and Siena.
The first day was a lot of basic grammar, which whilst simple, was bloody difficult. Word I have no problem with, I can wrote learn words, but grammar and the sequence of a sentence is very difficult... I'm finding that anyway...
Our teacher's name is Irene, but pronouncing that in Italian makes it sound like 'Irenny'... The alphabet is different to the English alphabet, they don't have 'J', 'W', 'X', and 'Y', so to get the same sounds from their words as us their letters are pronounced differently... Despite growing up around people speaking Italian the different pronunciations is also taking a lot of getting used to...
The class had 4 Brazilians (whose ability to speak Portuguese afforded them a massive, massive advantage... Some words are identical in both languages!) all of whom were no older than 19, so a pair of them from Sao Paulo acted like chummy high school kids even though they'd never met before... It is amazing how differently I look at kids in a classroom as a 26 year old, 4.5 years removed from University, as opposed to if I was 19 and in this class... The class had a pair of Taiwanese girls (who I think are at a bigger disadvantage than me), a pair of Americans (who can speak Spanish or French and are therefore ahead of me) and an old French Canadian woman (who did not give anyone else a chance to answer any questions... You're good with languages and have one foot in the grave, I get it, let me try to answer a question!)... Though on this first day not all were present.
The class is undertaken entirely in Italian... English is only an 'emergency language'... This makes it very difficult to understand everything (obviously!) and I am a little bit unsure if I am getting the correct meaning of everything (as it is a little bit like playing word association in my own head when a flash card is held with a picture and I am trying to work out what the Italian word means... For example, a picture of a bricklayer was meant to illustrate the word 'builder', I understood that after asking in English but in the first instance I wrote 'bricklayer' and thought to myself that it may be a little too specific for the first week in a beginners course... As the week went on I used English more and more to ask what something meant, because there is no point in me not asking and learning the wrong thing...
The class runs from 9 AM to 12:15 PM, which goes quite quickly, which is a surprise but considering how much we cover and how much you're concentrating it isn't that hard to believe when you think about it.
The language will come, and after one week of classes (at the time of writing) it will no doubt be a challenge, but I am sure it will come, despite the difficulties I am currently having
After class on the Monday I went home, re-wrote all my notes and watched a replay of the Dallas-Detroit Wildcard Round game online... I can't believe they picked up that pass interference flag against Dallas... Could argue it cost Detroit the game, I won't, but it was controversial for sure...
This is where this post is going to come to an end... Bad Michael Bay re-makes, lost baggage, no shower for 3 days, unwanted early morning wake ups, difficulty understanding a language and then learning that the language is bloody difficult to learn... Little things...
I will keep posting, but considering the classes I am taking are day to day classes and it is very routine I will probably only post thoughts or short stories... There'll be a lot less rhyme or reason to it I would imagine...
I hope that my lost sleep was interesting, even though not much really happened...
Roll on Italy...
Roll on inconsistent blog posts...
Buona fortuna Sam!
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