“There is no moment of delight in any pilgrimage like the beginning of it.”
Charles Dudley Warner
Sunday and Monday, 30 June - 1 July 2008
Faithful, as usual, to family tradition, we ate Mexican food on Thursday night with Mom and Dad, and then again on Sunday at Sylvia’s with Mary Beth, Jason, Beth and David. Fortified by our last taste of home for a couple of weeks, we were excited to finally be underway. As opposed to many of our other trips, where Jay finds a deal and we’re off even before we know it, we’ve planned and thought about this trip for so long that it’s surreal that the day has finally arrived.
The flight, once we finally left Houston, was uneventful. Takeoff was delayed by a couple of hours: first by thunderstorms, and then by a broken fuel valve on engine one that had to be replaced. The good news was that the Air France plane was equipped with individual entertainment systems with multiple movies, TV shows, and musical selections that remained on throughout the delay. We all caught up on movies that we had never seen in the theater.
Each of us got a little sleep: Jacob, Gracy, and I sat three-across in the middle section, and Jay was in an aisle seat just across from us. The flight was comfortable enough, as long as no one really tried to move or adjust his position. Everyone probably thinks this about his own situation, but the seats in front of us appeared to recline more than ours did, and the kids and I felt like we had the people in front of us lying in our laps. Luckily, the flight attendants noticed this, and always asked the row in front to raise their seats when meals were served. Even more luckily, the people actually did so!
We had been hoping for an upgrade to business class - especially with the delay, the extra room in the reclining seat/pods up front would have been welcome. However, the entire plane was sold out. Judging by this one flight, travel to Europe has not declined because of the rise in oil prices.
The airport terminal was quite striking - resembling a giant glass tube surrounded by surprisingly delicate-looking steel scaffolding. Because the day was clear and sunny, this beautiful tube was quite warm. None of us could figure out exactly how the structure could be either efficiently or effectively cooled.
Our connection in Charles de Gaulle airport was quite efficient - we moved through passport control (didn’t have our passports stamped - disappointing, as the kids were hoping for a passport stamp from each country we passed through), stopped at the transit desk to change our connection to Milan, and then raced to the gate for our newly-assigned flight, which was leaving in 45 minutes.
Charles de Gaulle airport terminal F
The flight to Milan was quick - just about an hour and a half; or in Texas-friendly terms, just like a flight from Dallas to Amarillo, if such a flight flew over the Eiffel Tower and snow-covered Alps! (I have to take it on faith that the first view was incredible - Jay and Jacob say it was, but Gracy and I were asleep even before the plane took off. Gracy slept until we landed, but I did manage to wake up enough to see the Alps.)
The transfer into Milan couldn’t have been any easier - we purchased 7€ tickets for the Malpensa Shuttle and walked straight on to a bus heading directly to the central railway station in Milan, caught a cab there to take us to the hotel, and were in our room by late afternoon.
Driving in Milan requires the faith of a priest and the courage of a warrior - the strategy seems to be to put your car in the middle of traffic and dare anyone else to challenge your right to be there. If you’re one of the millions riding Vespas, you do all this in your best clothes (suits for the business men, and dresses and high heels for the women). Even Jacob, who cannot wait to get his license in three weeks so that he can drive freely, found the prospect of driving in Milan daunting.
All in all, we spent about 25 hours traveling from home in Austin to the hotel in Milan via Houston and Paris.
Our first afternoon in Milan was disappointing, although I’m sure our jet-lagged, grumpy moods colored our impressions. We were all struck by the graffiti that covers every building in the suburb where our hotel is located. Literally every building is marked with indecipherable letters and/or pictures. The neighborhood surrounding hour hotel is composed mainly of high-rise apartment buildings which are covered in graffiti with laundry hanging from balconies and windows shuttered against the heat of the afternoon.
In spite of this, we eagerly set out across town for our first Italian dinner. Gracy, the most passionate of us about her pasta, had high hopes for this meal. We set out with a destination and restaurant suggestion in mind, but were too hungry and grumpy to spend time looking for the exact spot. On top of that, Jay was in the first hour of what would turn out to be a 24-hour stomach bug. The area of town we selected, El Brera, is described as a charming neighborhood with streets closed to motor traffic so that pedestrians can meander down shop- and café-filled streets. We never found anything that matched that description - no one was wandering down the streets, all the shops were closed, and cafés were few and far between. Jay continued declining, the rest of us were getting more hungry and tired and grumpy, and we ended up at the first place open. Not a good strategy. The food was marginal, the glasses were dirty, and the final tab was expensive. I don’t even remember the name of the place. Gracy and I ruefully noted that the café owner and his wife, who were sitting at the table next to us, dined on a pasta dish that was delivered from the restaurant next door. We trudged back home, feeling defeated by this city whose language we don’t understand and by our escalating weariness.
- Lesson #1: Don’t trust yourself to make good spur-of-the-moment decisions in a jet-lagged state. We should have either stuck to the original plan or conceded defeat at the hotel and ordered room service.
Thanks for reading! Look for more cheerful travels in the next post, which includes an incredible view, a couple of delicious meals, and a train trip through the Italian countryside.
Cheers!
Annette
