Avalon

Evan Meeting in Milan, Roaming about Rome

Wednesday, November 03, 2010

I only started to pack my bags the night before departing for Milan. The "ready to go" mentality has been taken for granted these days, but I have come to realise that this mental preparation is actually more imperative than physical preparations and the packing of bags, although of course, I was forced to eat my words later on. I left my room when all was still dark outside, and the scent of twilight was still hugging the deserted pavements and the quiet roads where a rare car only passes once in a while. Just the right mood to start the journey, although it was defnitely not enjoyable to be travelling first by tram to the central train station, then taking a one hour train to Eindhoven station, before changing to a 20 minute bus to get to the airport. And I would have still been in the Netherlands..

But fast forward the day by four hours and I was walking out of Milan Bergamo airport, slipping into the role of the backpacker once again and trying to figure out the meanings of Italian words jumping out at me every corner I turn. Milan is a very hectic city. That was my general impression, albeit a little inconclusive considering I only spent a day there. But a day was enough for me to get my Gelato recommended to me by my Italian flat mate, meet up with a friend who was doing exchange in Milan (and who incidentally lives very near to those gelato stores I was told to visit), pay an obligatory visit to the Duomo, one of the most beautiful cathedrals I have seen to date (considering you really get desensitised by the "Just Another Cathedral" thinking after a while), and get awestruck by all the expensive designer shops lined up street after street. True to its title as a fashion capital, the people of Milan strut around the streets looking ready to attend a dinner ball, and it is just so hard to ignore the branded goods they carry vying for ones attention. Brands are really integrated into their lifestyle there, and I am inclined to believe that the random kid dolled up in a sweet jacket, sleek jeans and boots was actually spotting a more expensive paraphenalia than I am. In any case, I was quite glad to be back in the hostel after a long day... only to find that the dormitory room of 6 that was empty when I came during the day was now shared by 5 other girls... mainly all on exchange, talking about things ranging from how hot Italian guys are and whether one should wear (a) a black dress or (b) a black dress with a red top to the club later, and how tight their dresses are. It was all I can manage to remain as invisible and nonexistant as I can.

The day later was an expensive train ride to Rome, which was interspersed with periods of reading and sleeping, waking to find random strangers staring as though Asians do not sleep on trains, before going back to sleep again. When the train finally pulled to a stop at Rome's Termini station, I was eager to rush off, only to realise that I did not note down the directions to my hostel, and Mc*onalds did not prove as reliable as it had previously because it wasn't WIFI connected. Rome was not built in one day indeed. In the end, I had to call up a friend to help check my email for the directions, and the phone was connected just long enough before it got forcefully disengaged due to the exhaustion of my prepaid credits. But all in all, Rome was a fantastic place to visit. A historical ruin in every corner you turn, until at last you get so densensitised that if not for the historical value attached to it, you start believing they are just another clump of weathered rocks. Nonetheless, I made my routinal exploration around the city, allowing my legs to memorise the paths, until I could finally stash the map aside.

The hostel I stayed over the first night was supposedly the oldest hostel in Rome, a very humble and cosy dwelling, and it was tranquil until I went to the bathroom and heard moanings from the cubicle next to mine, before the unbridled sounds erupted into shouts of orgasm amidst the gushing water, and the fiasco continued until I was done showering. (which was of course, not too long that day) In fact, the two in the cubicle were so loud that the counter guy who eventually heard it from outside the bathroom went in and I heard him say in understandable exasperation, "Oh please, guys!" I have begun to wonder if my luck for choosing hostels has taken a turn for the worse.

But then the next day in another hostel I finally met the first Singaporean traveller during my travels, and we obviously rejoiced in the camaraderie that followed. He was doing exchange in Budapest, and we both have visited each other's place, and planned to meet up soon somewhere in Germany over the weekend.

During my last day in Rome, after a whole day of walking, I was about to go back to my hostel to pick up my bag or probably hunt for a pair of boots when a Palestinian guy asked me to help him take a picture, and later started a conversation and asked if I was going anywhere and if I can join him in his city exploration should I have the time. Seeing no reason to say no after checking how much time I still have left before I have to slowly make my way to the train station to take a shuttle to Ciampino airport, I agreed and before I knew it, became a temporary tour guide pointing out the different sites that we saw along our walking route. He was a very affable person, deeply religious and optimistic, and he talked about how the issue back home can only be solved by both sides giving in to each other and giving up some things each possess, and how his religion can be misunderstood, just when the television we walked by was doing a live news broadcast of gunmen holding up hostages in a Baghdad church, demanding the release of jailed al Qaeda militants. But when we parted ways later that evening, knowing that we probably do not know everything of the other, there was undoubtedly, hidden in the handshake and the eyes, a note of genuine understanding.

Envoy of the Stars @ 9:58 AM
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