Jo’s Travelogue

It’s official, spring has arrived! I woke up to much colder weather this morning, and it rained again in the evening. Though the temperature readings are the same as what I recall to be supremely cold, I found the weather rather bearable today.

I did all the packing and we checked out of Hotel Baviera at 12noon to make our way to Vicenza. By the time we reached there, it was 2plus in the afternoon. Finding our next hotel turned out to be quite a chore. No one seemed to know which bus went to the street it’s on, and when Simone went over to a policeman to ask for directions, we ended up having to dig out our passports to get them checked. Finally, when he asked a cabby if it would cost a lot to get to Hotel Continental, the cabby said that the road was closed for works and he would have to make a big detour to get there. His suggestion? Take a nice walk, the hotel’s only about 15 minutes away by foot. Fifteen minutes, my ass.

We walked and walked and passed by a beautiful arch to a flight of steps, built by Palladio. I think Palladio is the reason why anyone would visit Vicenza, and it’s his work we’re there to see. After the arch, we made a turn in the wrong direction till we asked a senora for directions, and she told us to follow her. She walked really slowly… but point us in the right direction, she did. I was convinced that we could have walked through the town centre from the train station to the hotel, but I could have been wrong.

Hotel Continental is a hotel with very basic amenities, but we get breakfast and internet access with the room. I liked Hotel Baviera a lot better, and ironically it was cheaper than Hotel Continental. Anyway, Simone and I checked in at about 3.30pm and he wanted to relax a little before going out. But of course… I felt a little tired from the walk too and he’d been the one lugging the suitcase. Simone started channel-surfing while I checked out the map the receptionist had provided us. Then I freaked out when I saw that 
Teatro Olimpico – which I read was Palladio’s most famous work in Vicenza – closes at 5. We were out of the hotel in a flash and started walking to Teatro Olimpico. It seemed that wherever we went in Vicenza, we’d have to walk.

It wasn’t difficult to find the Teatro, and we were there in about 15 minutes. We entered into a pretty courtyard, lots of grass with benches under shady trees and lined with statuettes, some of which were damaged and had missing arms or heads.

Simone didn’t sleep in as late as I thought he would, and we managed to leave the hotel about 1 in the afternoon to do a bit of sightseeing – of course, shopping was on my agenda. After all, this is Milan! We took the metro from Repubblica to Duomo where I couldn’t resist MacDonald’s, while Simone had coffee. 

I put on a jacket and we walked into the Duomo. It’s a huge breathtaking cathedral, and contains many busts of popes looking down at us from the walls. We found a crypt, and also paid 1 euro each to view the cathedral’s treasure. I joked with Simone that he should remain in the room since he is ‘tesoro‘. There was a strange structure later, which Simone figured out to be a man with his skin thrown over his shoulder. We skipped the roof… I made the decision to skip cos there was an entrance fee of 5 euros with the stairs and 7 euros with the elevator, and I neither wanted to take the stairs nor pay more. Ha… I regret it a little now though, I should have gone to check it out. 

We then walked into La Rinascente, a department store next to the Duomo. It carried everything branded from cosmetics to bags to jewellery. I decided I wasn’t going to bag anything there, so we left and walked down a pretty shopping street where there were boutiques like Prada, Gucci and Louis Vuitton. We walked further and the shopping became more accessible for ordinary folks like me. I bought makeup from Sephora and a few Tinkerbelle PJ tops from Oysho. Not a lot of shopping, but I was contented. We also chanced upon a sort of “book pasar malam” – makeshift tables with many books for sale. Simone picked 2 books, and I picked one that describes Italian psyche and behaviour in a satyrical manner.

Simone was rather set on finding a nice trattoria where we could taste northern Italian food, or Milanese food. We ended up walking across a roundabout to a castle, which was rather beautiful too. We sat down at a fountain just outside the castle to rest our feet a little before exploring it. Just then, I ran out of memory space on the camera and made a uh, groundbreaking discovery. I could swop the memory cards between the camera, the PSP and the phone! Hooray for Sony products. 

Most of the castle wasn’t accessible – maybe cos it was already evening and admission was closed (if there was admission at all) – and we walked right through it (past a picturesque courtyard) and ended up at a park on the other side. A police car was parked there, and Simone went to ask if they could recommend any trattorias. The guy gave Simone a number to call and said it was the best trattoria around with many years of history. He also suggested an area that we could visit as there are many dining establishments in the area, Navigli.

We then walked back to where we came from and stopped at a bar across the road. Drinks in Milan are more expensive than Porto Santo Stefano. At this bar, however, we tried some of the bar food for aperitivi and the food was quite interesting. Bar food in Porto Santo Stefano usually consists of cured meats and dips and fruits, pretty light stuff. Bar food in Milan, however, consists of cold pasta, riso, potatoes and the like. How do people go for dinner after eating this stuff? I was baffled, and I still am.

Simone called the trattoria a number of times, but there was no response so we decided to try Navigli. We took the green line on the metro to Porta Genova, and then asked for directions. After walking down one street, we emerged at a canal that’s kinda cute. The buildings were old, and there were bars and ristorantes and trattorias lined up both sides of the canal. Simone fell in love with the place at first sight… His whole face lit up, and he immediately professed his love for it. I wasn’t very impressed… It felt like Boat Quay to me. But I was happy to see him happy.

We passed by a shop selling various paintings, and there was a painted series of Milan in 4 seasons in the store window that was very beautiful. There were also a few portraits of horses, and they all had 4 horses in them. Interesting that they should all have 4 and I remembered them for it, because I considered buying one of them for my father, then remembered 4 isn’t a very lucky number in our culture.

We came across a bookstore next which was running a sale where every item – book or CD – was going for 2 euros. I ended up picking 5 used books in English because cheap books were hard to find in Porto Santo Stefano… if I find English books in the first place. We walked down the entire canal and turned into the street on the other side of canal. Most of these bars had a happy hour price of 6 or 7 euros, and you could help yourself to all the food on offer. Cool, except if I’d eaten any of that I would have to forget about dinner. We sat down in a quieter beer bar for more aperitivi, and then Simone spotted a trattoria that states Milanese food. Looked good to me… I was attracted to the menu degustazione which includes wine for 30 euros. Other prices for mains looked okay to me too. 

The trattoria had quite a spacious interior. We were seated in a section where only one other table was occupied. A couple came in shortly after us and sat at a table behind me. We placed orders… I asked for the menu degustazione and the maitre informed me that at least 2 people had to order this menu. Simone was a great sport and said he could eat that too, though I knew he was about to choose other dishes, so as to try a wider variety of food. 

As we waited for our food to be served, another couple walked into our section and sat down. The guy asked for an ashtray, and Simone was instantly alert and asked the maitre if we could smoke in that section. He then requested an ashtray as well, and so did the man sitting directly behind me. The maitre also brought us a glass of red wine each as part of the menu, and a plate of bread covered with a napkin.

Our starters arrived – a huge plate each of cured meats (bresaola, salami and proscuitto), dried fish cooked in vinegar, some unidentifiable crunchy cubes which I thought tasted like pork skin, and some pate. Very yummy, but I couldn’t finish the cured meats. Our primi piatti arrived next – riso alla milanese and tagliolini con barolo vino and sausiccia - half portions on each plate. I liked the riso, which is flavoured with saffron, while I felt that the tagliolini was too strong on the palate and left most of it on the plate. Simone really liked the tagliolini though, and kept making appreciative sounds as he ate it. Secondi piatti consisted of a cotoletta a pollo in panatta (which is a chicken cutlet in cream sauce, garnished with cherry tomatoes) and another meat which er, tasted to me like my father’s stir-fried pork with tomatoes and salted vegetables. Ha… Simone can’t remember the dish so I’ll describe it better when he does. 

Our set menu didn’t include dessert, and by then we were both too full for it but it included coffee (and tea for me). Simone also asked for grappa, which was orangey in colour. Simone said it’s a grappa from Torino, and is stronger than colourless grappa. We got away with 60 euros for the entire bill, which means there was no tax and service charge, and either they forgot to charge the grappa or the grappa was complimentary. Great place, great food… I would return if I ever visit Milan again.

We woke up super early at 7.30am, and Franco drove us to the bar to say bye to Patrizia first. She asked if we wanted food… I chose a croissant with a creamy centre, and Simone asked for a salmon sandwich so I wouldn’t be hungry in the afternoon. For himself, he chose nothing so I asked Patrizia to put another chocolate croissant in the bag. Patrizia being Patrizia, she popped in an extra croissant.

We then left for Orbetello to catch a train to Milan, and reached there to find the ticketing counter closed. I guess it was closed either because it was Sunday or it was just too early in the morning, but seriously… it’s the train service! Shouldn’t the counter be open everyday? So anyway, Franco berated us for not letting him buy us the train tickets the day before when we had problems with the ticketing machine and the senora selling tickets at the magazine stand insisted she could only sell tickets for as far as Genova. We bought tickets to Genova – not much choice there – and Simone said we’ll try to get the train inspector to sell us tickets from Genova to Milan later on the train.

It was a long ride that felt long but not unbearably long. We were on the Intercity train that stopped only in the cities and not the smaller towns. I played PSP until the battery went dead, and napped once. Simone had bought his sport gazette and a crossword edition so he was quite entertained on the journey. When the ticket inspector came round to check our tickets, she said she couldn’t issue tickets for Milan. Simone said it used to be possible and we’ll just have to make a dash to the ticketing counter in Genova to be in time for the next train. Well, as I’ve said before, Italy can be a supremely frustrating country. 

We got to Genova and I waited with the luggage while Simone made a run for the tickets. He returned to tell me that according to the ticketing machine, the train we wanted to get on was full and we’ll just board it anyway and pay our fare on the train. I wasn’t very sure about doing that cos there’s some penalty involved in paying fares on trains. I asked him to try buying tickets from the ticketing counter rather than the machine cos maybe a man would be more helpful than a machine (ironic huh?). We ended up boarding a train that arrived before the one we wanted to board. Our train would arrive 20 minutes later than the other train as it made more stops. The advantage? Tickets for this train were cheaper. 

I sat next to a black guy while Simone sat diagonally opposite me next to a Jew. We were both anxious to get to Milan as early as we could, cos we’d have to race to get our football tickets, check into our hotel, and figure out how to get to the stadium. And even though the match starts at 8.30pm, Simone likes getting in early to watch the players do their warm-up routine. By the time we got to Milan Centrale, it was close to 4pm. I remembered seeing lovely pictures of the train station on the internet, but the high walls were covered in cloth and scaffolding so I guess they must be restoring it. We took the Metro to Missori station to Jolly Hotel Milano President to pick up our tickets from the concierge. I’m quite impressed with Simone this trip… He’d made sure we had both addresses and directions for both hotels before we set out.

I saw what Delcie meant by Milan being a dead town when we exited from the metro. Cars were few, pedestrians were few, and shops were closed. This was Milan, the fast-moving fashion capital! I know it’s summer when most Italians go on holiday and escape to the beach like in Santo Stefano, but I was still surprised by the lack of life. But looking back, it was Sunday and that could have been the financial district. After all, Raffles Place is as dead a town as this on Sundays. We got directions – first from a policewoman then from a pair of old ladies – and found the hotel pretty easily. Its decor is done in a modern minimalist style, and I distinctly remember the hotel costing more than I was willing to spend.

We picked up an envelope with Simone’s name on it, then exited the lobby and found a few taxis waiting. I’m very, very cautious about taxis in Italy cos Simone’s told me horror stories about how taxi drivers in Argentario charge exorbitant amounts, such as 100 euros from Santo Stefano to the train station in Orbetello, or 150 euros from Bar Il Buco to Panoramica. And trust me, these are like 10-15 minute distances by car. Simone and I really wanted time to be on our side though, and I’d read on the internet that a taxi costs between 6-10 euros going from the central train station to our hotel. We hopped into one of the taxis with some trepidation. I was quite intrigued by the meter, its digits were shining red from the rearview mirror. It started at 5 euros, and increased at intervals by 20 cents. I crossed my fingers, but then we reached the hotel in no time at all, and it cost a little under 10 euros. Hooray for affordable taxis!

We checked into Hotel Baviera Mokinba at about 5.20pm and were given Room 310. Simone gave the porter 5 euros and the porter grinned from ear to ear after receiving the tip. That’s Simone… he would dish out tips to waiters and hotel porters, and give some money to beggars on the streets to make the world happier. Sometimes I feel that he makes up for the part of me that doesn’t.

The room is a small one, but very clean and cosy! Simone said I was very clever to have found this hotel and I started feeling proud of myself before I remembered that he was the one who found it while I’d found a crappier hotel near the train station. 2 nights in this hotel cost us only 115 euros, and the listed rate for the room was about 350 euros. I was totally in love with the room and now I regret not taking any pictures. 

Simone showered while I tried to take a 10-minute power nap. The plan was to leave the hotel at 6pm to make our way to San Siro. While Simone was in the shower stall (so small that I banged my elbows countless times when I showered), Patrizia called and i broke a toe nail rather severely trying to get out of bed to answer it. 

Simone asked a guy (dressed in an Inter tee) earlier on the metro if he was going to San Siro and how we could get there. He said he was alighting at Duomo to take a bus to the stadium, which was the easiest way to go. At the hotel, we asked again for directions to San Siro and were advised to walk to Porta Venezia station which was a few minutes away, then take the metro to Lotto where we could walk to the stadium. We boarded the train and spotted more Inter fans, so I supposed we would do right just to follow these guys. I supposed wrong, and hopped out of the train in a panic when they alighted at Duomo. Then Simone and I figured they must be taking the bus to San Siro but by the time we figured we could follow them to catch the bus, they were out of sight. So we hopped onto the next train for Lotto. This time, lots of Inter fans got off the train with us.

As we exited the subway, these guys started singing pro-Inter chants. It was good, and I started getting the football match vibe. There were 2 policemen standing right outside the subway exit however, and the group quietened a little before picking up the chants again a small way further up. I then understood why some people chose to take the bus to the stadium… It was quite a long walk from the metro. Along the way, I heard a helicopter and assumed it’s part of the press, perhaps a TV crew doing aerial shots. Simone said it’s a police helicopter patrolling the area, so they would be able to spot any misdemeanor or even riots. He was right – I saw the word ‘Polizia’ on the belly of the helicopter when it passed right over our heads. A short distance further, we heard police sirens and then saw a few police cars and motorbikes coming up the street, followed by a huge bus decorated in Inter colours with their logo. I thought to myself “Wow, these fans must be fanatics to paint a whole bus to travel in to the stadium” when Simone suddenly yelled “The Inter players!” What an idiot I was… The police was escorting the Inter team to the stadium.

Simone tried to get me to walk faster so he wouldn’t miss the team practice before the match. Hell, I wished I’d managed to leave the hotel earlier. It’s really rare that we managed to get into the VIP area, and I could have snapped pictures of the team arriving! But it’s too late, anyway. We passed by some panini trucks and finally reached the stadium, but had to walk around it to find the right entrance. There were many makeshift stalls outside selling Inter merchandise, and none of Roma’s. It was San Siro after all, Inter’s home ground. I bought a cap, and Simone bought a scarf. 

Security at the stadium was tight. We had to show our tickets as well as documents of identification before we could get in. We walked into a huge reception room where they served refreshments, so we grabbed quick bites before going out to check out the action. While hanging around munching sandwiches, we spotted Materazzi ducking into a room off bounds. Simone said he’s injured and wouldn’t be playing. 

We walked out to see a sort of opening ceremony for the Supercoppa, then went to take our seats. I was slightly disappointed that the atmosphere in our area was kind of sedate. The Inter fans were on our left insulting Roma, and Roma fans were on our right insulting Inter back. Our seats were a little closer to the section where the Roma fans were, so we could hear them loud and clear. I’m not sure if it was our position that we could hear them far louder, I felt that we should hear the Inter fans more since more than 70% of the audience were Inter fans. At half-time, Inter had scored 1 goal and Roma, 0. I had the feeling that Inter would win the match, but it was going to be a close one. Perhaps it would even go into a penalty shootout. We decided to go for more refreshments. Simone went to the gents’, and as I was waiting for him, I spotted some people posing with one of the Roma players, Vincenzo Montella, for pictures. I didn’t recognise him, but Simone said he’s very famous and scored 155 goals in Serie A. 

In the 2nd half, Roma scored a goal, followed by Inter, followed by Roma again. Simone was like “Okay, we’re gonna have to stay for extra time.” I didn’t mind, I hadn’t had enough of the excitement and was happy to watch another half hour though I was a little concerned about getting public transport to get home. 2-2 into extra time, where no goals were scored. I was right, they went into penalties. We rooted for Inter, and both teams scored 4 of the first 5 penalties. Inter missed a ball first, and I was very relieved when Totti missed his ball. When Roma missed another and Inter shot hers in, it seemed as though the entire stadium cheered for Inter. 

We stayed to watch Inter receive the cup and the crew set up the stage and everything in no time. Roma fans started leaving the stadium… I guess they must have felt rather disappointed. I’ve always felt that a penalty shootout was a way of determining the winner by luck and chance. But a win is a win and Inter won! So the Cup was presented to Inter and there were small fireworks and bits of blue and black paper were blasted from machines to rain on the stadium. It was a very pretty sight, and I was very glad that Simone got us tickets to this match. The Inter players paraded the Cup as they walked the perimeter of the field.

When everything was over, Simone and I drank a little before making our way out. I spotted some fans waiting outside a glass door which we passed by on our way out and Simone said they were waiting to catch sight of the players. Simone and I decided to do some “stalking” as well so we hung around a little more. Cruz came out shortly after, and several people asked for pictures. I wanted one too, but Simone and I were both shy about it. We procrastinated, and he was gone before we knew it. I then decided I was gonna take a picture with the next player that comes out. XXX came out next, and I got my picture! Simone was still too shy to ask for one. Jeez… After that, the bouncer decided that he’d had enough of groupies and herded everyone out.

By then, it was about midnight and I had the feeling we had to walk fast if we were gonna catch the last train back. We didn’t make it, of course. By 12.30am, we were still walking the perimeter of the stadium. I thought of flagging a cab, but Simone was right that we were just gonna get stuck in the traffic jam if we hopped into one and we should walk clear of the congested area first. We spotted a bar and decided to stop there… there was no way we were gonna catch the train anyway. An old man at the bar said we could call a taxi, but the calling charge was 15 euros. Ugh… He then advised us to walk to Piazza Lotto where the subway was as it would be easier catching a taxi there. When we got there, I realised that it would have been a better idea to reserve a hotel room in Piazza Lotto for that night rather than in the centre, for there was at least a dozen other people waiting around for taxis too. I was glad when we finally got into one, and relieved when we reached the hotel and the fare was only 12 euros. I guess the taxis didn’t impose a midnight charge like we did back home. Phew!