We had booked to stay at a hotel (Best Western) near the airport, a mere shuttle from the airport – followed by a mere shuttle back to the airport to take the train into Milan central – talk about speed tourism. It was 4.00 pm when we left the hotel, back to the train station by 4.10 and then onto a train into the centre by 4.30 (huff puff!) In between that time I managed to down an excellent coffee (in a train station! I thought that there were set rules about coffee and train stations!)
There ensued an (almost) heated discussion regarding the quality of coffee. But we won’t go there (unless you press the matter of course..)
Ok – there are score-cards – France wins for Cheese and Wine. And Bread. Italy wins for Gelato (no surprises there) and for the audacity of their men when flirting. The jury is out on the coffee issue – admittedly there was a bad cup in Monmatre – but I still say that the coffee in NZ is not bad.
None of the countries gets any points for queueing, because they don’t. NZ wins hands down on that, especially at airport baggage carousels. New Zealand has to move on from wearing black though, and brighten up a bit. France wins the style in clothes, but loses a few points where street signs are concerned. They do get a few bonus points for the fields of sunflowers, the macarons, and because they sound sexy when they speak English. They do not get any bonus points for their toilets (generally). I’m not saying which country wins for the remaining category: Men. Field work is still being completed. You asked.
Milano. We managed to get into the city and take the metro (points to France and Italy, well done on their public transport systems) which we have managed to conquer in each city we have visited, arriving at the Duomo with time to spare. Alas, alack – in our haste (and the 39 degrees), we had not remembered to wear long sleeves or cover our shoulders, so we couldn’t go inside. Hysterical laughter followed. We are seasoned travelers after all, and we know, we know, we know about the Catholic aversion to shoulders.(As an aside, we have discovered that where shoulders and knees are not ok, cleavage is - interesting..)
The heat was draining us, although our humour remained intact (superglued?) – we went looking for La Scala, and unbeknownst to us, when we were standing in the square in which it is situated, we did not recognize it for what it was. We then wandered for another hour and a half looking for it, only to find it eventually with the assistance of a very kind elderly gentleman. At which point reason left us completely and we both raced into a McDonalds and downed a half litre of ice cold coke each! And it was sssoooooo good.
By nine we retraced our transport steps (metro – train - airport-shuttle – hotel) and ate a quick meal in the restaurant there. Or rather I did – Branka had a sudden aversion to paying a 3 euro cover charge - at which the waiter had a sudden aversion to me being the only person eating at the table and became a bit surly. Nice goats cheese and walnut salad though...
Another 4 am start to catch the plane to Split – a brief argument in the tax refund office which I didn’t win (but I shall, mark my words, I shall), and finally bussed back to Makarska.
It’s a funny thing – after the grace and style of France, the end of the rally, my mind started to prepare for the trip home to New Zealand. The first night back here I hurried back to my routine (don’t we love the familiarity of a routine) went to yoga and was greeted warmly by my class. They said they missed me – I felt part of the community again! The next morning I went to rowing and the children’s faces lit up and they said ‘you’re back!’. (Remind me to talk about my little rowers some time soon).
We are funny creatures aren’t we. I have been spending a bit of time with a lovely lady called Minka – as a young woman she was plucked from Bosnia and transported to Russia where she trained and became a top ballet dancer. She now lives in Switzerland and although retired, she still teaches some ballet classes. We were solving the problems of the world this morning while we drifted in the sea (didn’t take too long, but may wind up the discussions over kolaci (with a ‘ch’) tonight), and she said that she doesn’t travel so much during the year because even though she doesn’t work full time, she loves the feeling of being needed and important to those few students that she has. Ain’t that the truth.
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