Since I hadn’t gone to Europe in years, this counts as an “event”.
I left work early and caught a flight out of JFK. The plane ride was painful. I had a middle seat and the lady sitting to my left was very fat.
After arriving in Milan, I took a bus to the train station. From the window, Milan seemed to be a cross between Barcelona and Amsterdam. After arriving at the train station, I remembered that most Italians don’t speak English. In fact, I didn’t speak any English until I had been Italy for over 24 hours.
Looking for food on Saturday night, I was confounded. I didn’t want fast food or pizza because of the bread factor and Passover. I had already abandoned my plans to go to a seder at a Chabad House. Restaurants are intimidating because of the language barrier and all my eating restrictions. Then, of course, after waking up for a long nap, I walked around for several hours and everything was closed except for bars and alcohol establishments. I went to bed without dinner. I woke up late on Sunday, and of course all the restaurants were closed until 7:00 pm. I ended up again walking all around the city, surviving on coffee and Coca Cola Light.
Taking a coffee break, I compared this experience to when I backpacked in ’97. I noted that again there were large periods of time in which I kept quiet –- when I did talk, it seemed like a whisper.
I saw lots of buildings, but had no desire to visit a museum.
Here are some quick observations: CNN was on in English. There are a lot of South Asians in Bologna. A lot of apartments had rainbow “Pace” flags hanging from their apartment. I think “pace” means “peace”.
I walked through an open air flea market. Just like in the U.S., most of the stuff was junk. I went to a big bookstore. It had Wi-Fi, English books, a bar with music, and a see-through floor that exposed an ancient Roman excavation.
I went to a bar/restaurant nearby my hotel. The bartender spoke English. I ate the free tapas and had some drinks.
My feet hurt from walking around so much. That’s what happens when you get lost on purpose. During my ramblings, I joked to myself that I was speaking Italian because I was using my hands to communicate.
