For Lake Como pictures, click here (Photos #96-#106).
On our last day, my mom and I headed to Monte Napoleone after an abundant breakfast for some more window-shopping. I actually made some correct calls when looking at the map, which was shocking to me because I'm spatially challenged and my mom is known to be the GPS navigator of the family.
Unfortunately, my mom and I totally underestimated how much time we'd need to get back to the hotel, which is where we left our backpacks; the roads seemed to change names after every curve and twist, and were not always recorded in our city map.
New to Milan + crummy map = sprint to the train station.
We had 20 minutes to get from the hotel to Milano Centrale; we had to first locate the correct metro station, then figure out how to buy our tickets (the bearded grandpa sitting behind the glass responded with a curmudgeonly "no" when I asked him if he could help me), and finally find our train at the correct platform upon arrival. With less than 10 minutes before our train's departure, I took the stairs while my mom took the escalator -- I like to get extra exercise when I can. This was a BAD DECISION OF EPIC PROPORTIONS. When I reached the top of the stairs, my mom was nowhere to be found; after pacing the small hallway frantically for 30 seconds, I took the moving walkway to the station itself.
With sweat from the heat, from running and now from adrenaline soaking my shirt, I circled the square in a panic. Finally, I decided to retrace my steps and take the escalator to see if she ended up in the same destination. I then realized that the escalator stopped at the end of the moving walkway, not the top of the stairs, which is why we missed each other. Realizing that the train would leave in about 5 minutes, I just took a leap of faith and guessed that my mom would be waiting for me by the train. Next to Platform 7, I faced outwards towards the throngs and waited for a stretch of time counted out by heartbeat after pounding heartbeat.
Miraculously, I heard my mom calling my name behind me. As we sunk weakly into our seats with moments to spare, I breathed for what felt like the first time in 10 minutes. Wordlessly, mom and I looked at each other and knew that we were somehow connected, that we knew exactly what the other would do; the outcome could have been so much worse in such a busy station.
Exhausted by our adventure, we arrived in Lake Como somewhat unenthusiastically. Forewarned by a local who is familiar with the area, I was adequately prepared to temper my expectations. George Clooney apparently owns a gorgeous mansion overseeing Lake Como; the lake is very large, so he must have found a better spot. After the heart-stopping stress of our morning exercise, my mom and I decided to buy some gelato and sit quietly under the shade by the lake for two hours.
I learned something on this trip: my mom is fearless in asking strangers for help. Through her spunky courageousness, we discovered that a public bus went from the lake to the train station (I was fully on planning on walking 30+ minutes in the scorching sun with our heavy backpacks), found the correct bus stop, figured out the correct bus line, and arrived successfully at the station.
I love many things about Italy -- delicious gelato, creative designs, beautiful destinations -- but I do not love its transportation system. The Italian trains that we took were sweaty, creaky and generally late; the bus system at Lake Como was very inconvenient with only one bus of our line per hour. Switzerland has spoiled me!
We arrived back at Zurich HB after 11 p.m. Despite (or perhaps because of) the day's near-miss, I honestly couldn't have asked for a more memorable trip that I will always fondly recall with my mom.
For Milan pictures, click here (Photos #87-#95).
For Lake Como pictures, click here (Photos #96-#106).
New to Milan + crummy map = sprint to the train station.
We had 20 minutes to get from the hotel to Milano Centrale; we had to first locate the correct metro station, then figure out how to buy our tickets (the bearded grandpa sitting behind the glass responded with a curmudgeonly "no" when I asked him if he could help me), and finally find our train at the correct platform upon arrival. With less than 10 minutes before our train's departure, I took the stairs while my mom took the escalator -- I like to get extra exercise when I can. This was a BAD DECISION OF EPIC PROPORTIONS. When I reached the top of the stairs, my mom was nowhere to be found; after pacing the small hallway frantically for 30 seconds, I took the moving walkway to the station itself.
With sweat from the heat, from running and now from adrenaline soaking my shirt, I circled the square in a panic. Finally, I decided to retrace my steps and take the escalator to see if she ended up in the same destination. I then realized that the escalator stopped at the end of the moving walkway, not the top of the stairs, which is why we missed each other. Realizing that the train would leave in about 5 minutes, I just took a leap of faith and guessed that my mom would be waiting for me by the train. Next to Platform 7, I faced outwards towards the throngs and waited for a stretch of time counted out by heartbeat after pounding heartbeat.
Miraculously, I heard my mom calling my name behind me. As we sunk weakly into our seats with moments to spare, I breathed for what felt like the first time in 10 minutes. Wordlessly, mom and I looked at each other and knew that we were somehow connected, that we knew exactly what the other would do; the outcome could have been so much worse in such a busy station.
Exhausted by our adventure, we arrived in Lake Como somewhat unenthusiastically. Forewarned by a local who is familiar with the area, I was adequately prepared to temper my expectations. George Clooney apparently owns a gorgeous mansion overseeing Lake Como; the lake is very large, so he must have found a better spot. After the heart-stopping stress of our morning exercise, my mom and I decided to buy some gelato and sit quietly under the shade by the lake for two hours.
I learned something on this trip: my mom is fearless in asking strangers for help. Through her spunky courageousness, we discovered that a public bus went from the lake to the train station (I was fully on planning on walking 30+ minutes in the scorching sun with our heavy backpacks), found the correct bus stop, figured out the correct bus line, and arrived successfully at the station.
I love many things about Italy -- delicious gelato, creative designs, beautiful destinations -- but I do not love its transportation system. The Italian trains that we took were sweaty, creaky and generally late; the bus system at Lake Como was very inconvenient with only one bus of our line per hour. Switzerland has spoiled me!
We arrived back at Zurich HB after 11 p.m. Despite (or perhaps because of) the day's near-miss, I honestly couldn't have asked for a more memorable trip that I will always fondly recall with my mom.For Milan pictures, click here (Photos #87-#95).
For Lake Como pictures, click here (Photos #96-#106).
