Italy So Far. . .

I'm sure you are all thankful that we've finally moved on from France, so that French transportation will no longer be an obsession for me. However, given our more recent dealings with train transportation in France, I guess it wasn't possible to leave the country without a definitive farewell, so one last missive is in order. So there we were, scheduled to leave Lyon for Milan early last Wednesday morning, and just arrived at the train station with plenty of time to spare. We decided to head to the grocery store across the street to stock up for the day, in case Italian grocery stores were hard to find (you just never know). It was probably a bad idea, since the store didn't open until 8:30 and our train left at 9:15. We chanced it anyway, and despite a few minutes of real panic for me, we made it back to our platform even before the train arrived. Thinking we were safe and good to go, we boarded our train along with everyone else, and headed up to the second level (yes, some French trains are that cool). In a rare moment of confusion, Anna decided to locate the nearly invisible storage rack above the seats with her face. A stunned collapse into the nearest seat took up several minutes, causing us to lose sight of what was happening around us. (But not to worry, folks. The effective use of packaged coldcuts and hot dogs kept the swelling down, and Anna is still as beautiful as ever.). In spite of her injury, Anna quickly assessed the situation (in a deja vu-like way) and realized that we were once again the only people on the train. My first reaction to this kind of thing is, "Great, more room for us." But Anna, the unselfish quick-thinker that she is, hustled us off the train and we learned from the train guards standing on the platform that our train had suddenly changed its mind about its destination. At first, the guard simply told us the new platform, but after seeing our horror-stricken and probably uncomprehending faces, he took us there himself. (Turned out to be a good thing, since it sounded like he said "G" for the platform, but apparently that's how the French say "J.") Since he wasn't running to the platform (although still moving very quickly, as the new platform was of course located on the far side of the station), we figured the train was being held, but the fear and panic had already set in. I had visions of never quite making it to Italy, always being on the wrong train track and not knowing exactly how to get out of France. . .I am still mystified by how often things change so dramatically and at the last minute with the trains here, but somehow, we do manage to eventually get on the right train, so I guess I should be thankful about that. Our connection in Chambery (one of the last towns in France before crossing the border into Italy) proved to be one of the most crowded trains we've been on yet. Even the platform train guards were rolling their eyes at how long it took all of us to get on the train, but by this time, Anna and I were too exhausted to care. Arriving at the Milan train station and trying to locate the correct Metro line to get to our hotel also proved quite a challenge after the excitement of the morning, so a day of almost complete rest was in order for the following day (only got up to go to Mass, since it was All Saint's Day).

We've been taking it rather easy here in Milan this past week, trying to catch up on some much-needed sleep and generally gathering our energy for the last third of our trip. Since we haven't ventured much afield from Milan yet (except to Varenna yesterday, a lovely little lake village just this side of the Swiss Alps), the only things of note I can say about Italy so far are: 1) No one here seems to be able to walk in a straight line, at least not in Milan. I've never had to do so much dodging before, not even in New York City. It's really bizarre, makes me feel like maybe my equilibrium is somehow off. . . 2) Since there are no Starbucks to be found anywhere (I know, we're barely surviving), another behemoth is stepping in to fill the void between overpriced thimbles of càfe and decently priced hot beverages: McCafe. Yes, you're reading this correctly; McDonald's has branded part of their line-up as McCafe. I can't remember if I've ever seen these before in the U.S., but let me tell you, when you're craving something hot and don't really want to spend €3 - €4 for a swallowful, McCafe's are heaven-sent. For €1.40, you can satisfy your thirst with 20 times the amount of your average thimble. Bigger isn't always better, of course, but when it comes to càfe. . .3) Cultural events here, as in the other big cities we've visited, are absolutely amazing (and extremely affordable). For about $20 total, we've now seen some sort of fine art event in each of the big cities we've visited, often in world-class settings. A Shakespeare play at the Old Globe in London (£5 = $10); a wonderful classical music concert in Paris (think we forgot to mention this, but it was completely free. In the U.S., the seats we had would have been at least $30 - $40, and the musicians were superb); and now in Milan, we stood in line for quite some time to score tickets to see an opera at La Scala Opera House. The tickets cost €7.50 ($10 - $12), and the opera that happens to be playing right now is Mozart's Cosi Fan Tutti. Can it get any better than this? It was awesome, of course, and we still can't believe we were able to get in (thank you, Rick Steves!). A fine way to remember Milan, now I'm looking forward to what we might be able to do in Rome and Prague. We'll try not to break this trend. . .