As I mentioned in the previous post where I described some of the highlights of our time in Milan, there were also some low points of our visit. For sure, the atmosphere in Milan was very different from what we experienced on the laid-back Swiss Riviera. In Lausanne, many of the people we encountered were also tourists and their primary focus seemed to be relaxing, partying or taking in the sights. In Milan, where we opted to use public transportation or walk instead of using taxis, we were in the company of local residents who were intently going about their daily business. For some of these Milanese, their daily business apparently centers on getting money by dubious or dishonest means from unsuspecting tourists. We believe we were targeted by slicksters at least 3 times, and we're glad to report that after the first encounter of this kind, we put up our guards and managed to quickly squash their game without much ado.
The game began almost immediately. On our first trip down into the subway system in Milan, we were approached by a pushy Italian guy who involved himself in "helping" us buy our subway passes. We were doing just fine when he elbowed his way into our personal space and began pushing buttons. Then when it was time to pay 11 Euros for the passes, he encouraged us to feed a 20 Euro bill into the machine. Once the passes were issued, he doled them out to us as if we'd purchased them from him and then he "suggested" that we let him have the 9 Euros of change that were dispensed from the ticket machine. As I mentioned earlier, coming from the laid-back atmosphere of Lausanne, we had our guards down and were even a bit amused by the guy. Rather than back him down, we were both in a somewhat passive and observant state and we let him see his routine to its finish and did not object to him taking our 9 Euros. Yet and still, after that experience, we were in agreement that we would not be "hiring" additional "help" for the remainder of our stay.
The next day, we were purchasing tickets for our day trip to Lake Como when another pair of "helpers" approached and began interfering with our process. I wasted no time in telling them, "Non ti pago!" which means, "I'm not paying you!" Sure enough, they quickly lost their desire to be helpful and they stepped back to wait for another target.
Hmmm… It has dawned on me as I collect my thoughts about all the somewhat negative drama that occurred in Milan that almost all of it is directly related to train travel. Word of caution: traveling by train in Italy is not for the faint of heart or the meek tourist. Readers may recall how we talked our way out of a fine in the range of 50 – 200 Euros on the train ride from Milan to Varenna. To this day, we’re still not sure if the conductor was telling the whole truth about having to immediately pay a fine for being apprehended without a validated ticket. John and I would definitely still travel by train in Italy, but we’re glad to have had these experiences because they have made us savvier, hipper travelers.
One last bit of drama that I experienced on an Italian train occurred on the morning of the 15th as we left Milan en route to Nice, France. John and I had spent the night of the 14th in the resort town of Locarno, Switzerland which was the site of the Moon and Stars Festival which featured one of our favorite groups, Jamiroquai, in concert. Our train from Locarno arrived late to Milan and we had less than 5 minutes to make our connection for the 5 hour trip to Nice. The mad dash to make our train created quite an adrenaline rush in me. We felt triumphant as we boarded carriage 2 of the train before it pulled out of the station, but neither of us was prepared for the crowding and chaos on the train as we made the slow progress of maneuvering our bags down the packed aisles to our reserved seats in carriage 8.
As I made my way down the length of the train, I was on the lookout for our friends who were likely seated in carriage 2. At one point, my progress was hindered by the presence of some exceptionally large suitcases parked in the aisle outside of a first class compartment on carriage 2. On a mission to reach my seat and stowe my bags, I did not hesitate to gently reposition the offending bags so that I could more easily wheel my suitcase past.
The owner of one of those bags was an Italian woman who looked to be approximately 70 years in age. She sharply told me in Italian to leave her suitcase alone. I did not like her tone and frankly, with all that adrenaline still racing through my system, I got a little pissed. I told her (also in Italian) to move the bag because it was way too big to be in the aisle on such a crowded train. She responded that I could easily turn my own bag to the side and slide it past her luggage. Then, she put her hands on MY suitcase and began to demonstrate. It’s been a long time since I’ve come across anyone as rude as this woman, and (adrenaline in effect) I stomped my foot and commanded, “Segnora, non toccharla!” which means, “Lady, don’t touch MY bag!”
As I grabbed the handle of my suitcase from my adversary, I glanced up and noticed my dear friends and traveling companions "Chuck" and "G" seated awkwardly within the same compartment as "the Bag Lady". Seeing their faces and realizing how out of character it is for me to be arguing with senior citizens, I cooled down and proceeded to roughly move myself and my bags on down the line after briefly exchanging pleasantries with our friends who were relieved to see that we'd made our connection from Locarno. By then, I knew how ridiculous the whole argument had been and I decided to get in one more dig just for fun. I waved at the mean old lady and told everyone that I'd be back later for a little social call. And then I loudly announced to all within earshot that "Questa donna non é simpatica!" which means that she's not nice.
I wish I'd had a video camera running to capture the looks on people's faces when I returned that woman's agression with some of my own, in her language to boot. As I mentioned a moment ago, it really is out of character for me to get into confrontations with strangers and it was fun to blow off some steam. I will admit that I not only enjoyed being a bit of a badass in the beginning, but I also liked the look on her face when I returned to that cabin to sit and chat with my friends for a while after the train was in motion. As I entered the space, I smiled sweetly and excused myself as I stepped over her feet to reach the open seat by "G". she'd been chatting with the woman next to her, but clammed up and didn't say a word the entire time I was in that compartment which was probably 20 minutes. I think her poor husband wanted to thank me for coming back; my 20 minute visit was probably the longest time he's ever experienced peace in her presence. I can't help but think that just maybe that lady will learn to be more cautious and polite when dealing with strangers in public environments. As for my lesson: strangers get testy when I touch their luggage, especially when it's full of gold bullion or body parts as that woman's bag surely must have been.
The game began almost immediately. On our first trip down into the subway system in Milan, we were approached by a pushy Italian guy who involved himself in "helping" us buy our subway passes. We were doing just fine when he elbowed his way into our personal space and began pushing buttons. Then when it was time to pay 11 Euros for the passes, he encouraged us to feed a 20 Euro bill into the machine. Once the passes were issued, he doled them out to us as if we'd purchased them from him and then he "suggested" that we let him have the 9 Euros of change that were dispensed from the ticket machine. As I mentioned earlier, coming from the laid-back atmosphere of Lausanne, we had our guards down and were even a bit amused by the guy. Rather than back him down, we were both in a somewhat passive and observant state and we let him see his routine to its finish and did not object to him taking our 9 Euros. Yet and still, after that experience, we were in agreement that we would not be "hiring" additional "help" for the remainder of our stay.
The next day, we were purchasing tickets for our day trip to Lake Como when another pair of "helpers" approached and began interfering with our process. I wasted no time in telling them, "Non ti pago!" which means, "I'm not paying you!" Sure enough, they quickly lost their desire to be helpful and they stepped back to wait for another target.
Hmmm… It has dawned on me as I collect my thoughts about all the somewhat negative drama that occurred in Milan that almost all of it is directly related to train travel. Word of caution: traveling by train in Italy is not for the faint of heart or the meek tourist. Readers may recall how we talked our way out of a fine in the range of 50 – 200 Euros on the train ride from Milan to Varenna. To this day, we’re still not sure if the conductor was telling the whole truth about having to immediately pay a fine for being apprehended without a validated ticket. John and I would definitely still travel by train in Italy, but we’re glad to have had these experiences because they have made us savvier, hipper travelers.
One last bit of drama that I experienced on an Italian train occurred on the morning of the 15th as we left Milan en route to Nice, France. John and I had spent the night of the 14th in the resort town of Locarno, Switzerland which was the site of the Moon and Stars Festival which featured one of our favorite groups, Jamiroquai, in concert. Our train from Locarno arrived late to Milan and we had less than 5 minutes to make our connection for the 5 hour trip to Nice. The mad dash to make our train created quite an adrenaline rush in me. We felt triumphant as we boarded carriage 2 of the train before it pulled out of the station, but neither of us was prepared for the crowding and chaos on the train as we made the slow progress of maneuvering our bags down the packed aisles to our reserved seats in carriage 8.
As I made my way down the length of the train, I was on the lookout for our friends who were likely seated in carriage 2. At one point, my progress was hindered by the presence of some exceptionally large suitcases parked in the aisle outside of a first class compartment on carriage 2. On a mission to reach my seat and stowe my bags, I did not hesitate to gently reposition the offending bags so that I could more easily wheel my suitcase past.
The owner of one of those bags was an Italian woman who looked to be approximately 70 years in age. She sharply told me in Italian to leave her suitcase alone. I did not like her tone and frankly, with all that adrenaline still racing through my system, I got a little pissed. I told her (also in Italian) to move the bag because it was way too big to be in the aisle on such a crowded train. She responded that I could easily turn my own bag to the side and slide it past her luggage. Then, she put her hands on MY suitcase and began to demonstrate. It’s been a long time since I’ve come across anyone as rude as this woman, and (adrenaline in effect) I stomped my foot and commanded, “Segnora, non toccharla!” which means, “Lady, don’t touch MY bag!”
As I grabbed the handle of my suitcase from my adversary, I glanced up and noticed my dear friends and traveling companions "Chuck" and "G" seated awkwardly within the same compartment as "the Bag Lady". Seeing their faces and realizing how out of character it is for me to be arguing with senior citizens, I cooled down and proceeded to roughly move myself and my bags on down the line after briefly exchanging pleasantries with our friends who were relieved to see that we'd made our connection from Locarno. By then, I knew how ridiculous the whole argument had been and I decided to get in one more dig just for fun. I waved at the mean old lady and told everyone that I'd be back later for a little social call. And then I loudly announced to all within earshot that "Questa donna non é simpatica!" which means that she's not nice.
I wish I'd had a video camera running to capture the looks on people's faces when I returned that woman's agression with some of my own, in her language to boot. As I mentioned a moment ago, it really is out of character for me to get into confrontations with strangers and it was fun to blow off some steam. I will admit that I not only enjoyed being a bit of a badass in the beginning, but I also liked the look on her face when I returned to that cabin to sit and chat with my friends for a while after the train was in motion. As I entered the space, I smiled sweetly and excused myself as I stepped over her feet to reach the open seat by "G". she'd been chatting with the woman next to her, but clammed up and didn't say a word the entire time I was in that compartment which was probably 20 minutes. I think her poor husband wanted to thank me for coming back; my 20 minute visit was probably the longest time he's ever experienced peace in her presence. I can't help but think that just maybe that lady will learn to be more cautious and polite when dealing with strangers in public environments. As for my lesson: strangers get testy when I touch their luggage, especially when it's full of gold bullion or body parts as that woman's bag surely must have been.
We had a few things go unexpectedly wrong during our short stay in Milan, but it was nothing we couldn't handle and certainly, some of these situations make for the best stories later.
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