Before I tell all about the day Mick and I had once landing in Zurich, I must first mention our plane ride to get there… I don’t want to be dramatic and say it was a total nightmare because it wasn’t… not really. But, the last three hours of the flight definitely were. A four-year-old, that was right next to Mick, on the other side of the aisle, abruptly began puking and screaming at five o’clock in the morning! Sure, some moments were funny, only because Mick looked more-than-terrified (she’s a germaphobe), I mostly felt sick myself because the scene was just too disturbing. For those of you that do not know, if there’s one thing I cannot handle, it’s throw up. And this poor kid, God bless his heart, was doing it for three hours straight.
Well, as you could imagine we, along with everyone else in the back of that Delta flight, lost our appetites for the on-board breakfast. So, once Mick and I touched down in Zurich, passed customs, and caught a train to the Main Station, we were basically dying for food. Actually, it was just me. And this will most likely be a trend of this voyage… me stuffing my face with local food any chance I get. Anyways, I had to try swiss chocolate, and it was exceptional! I highly recommend eating chocolate in Switzerland. And so far, I’m hearing great things about the fondue too. Unfortunately, or fortunately, (haven’t quite decided yet) we only spent the morning in Zurich, so there was no time for fondue… yet. We also ate some below-average paninis, which was beyond annoying for the food lover that I am, before we caught our train out the country to Italia!
But, ten minutes before our train was set to leave, we realized Mick did not have a ticket to board! Running through Zurich’s Main Station, we talked to a worker that helped us. And by the time we got the ticket, we had about three minutes left, and I don’t think I have ever seen Mick run faster than she did in that moment. My girl was stressed, while I was laughing and saying “making memories!”. And in typical Mick fashion, she responded with the classic eye roll.
This is Mick’s first backpacking experience and we weren’t off to the most stress-free experience so far. I’m trying to let her know with every obstacle, that there’s no room for fretting over things like a missed train or anything that wasn’t in the plans. At the end of the day, it’s those blips that give traveling its character. Running through airports, train stations, bus terminals and meeting a stranger in the bunk next to you and getting drunk of spritz and stories are what gives these places character. And I’m just trying to get her to fall in love with those blips just as I am. I am so happy to be partners-in-crime with her on this first expedition of hers. And especially to see her experience Italy for the first time…
And ugh, Italia, my dearest of loves… I cannot explain how desperately my heart and belly have been yearning for a meeting between us again.
Oh, and might I add a detail? The train attendant on that Swiss train was so rude to Mick and I when we were confused and asking questions about our train…. Like I’m sorry I am a confused foreigner asking, what may seem like to her, redundant questions? But, isn’t that your job?
Ugh, anyways, taking a train straight through the Swiss Alps was breathtaking. Although, I can’t comment on more than fifteen minutes of the scenery before I knocked out, with my mouth open and all. I am not joking. That is me. Haha. But, after being woken up and running on to a train we hoped was going to Milano, no thanks to the help of the Swiss train attendant, and passed the country line to Italia, I was happy and instantly felt Italy reviving me back to life with its energy, views, food, and culture.
Arriving in Milano Centrale, was pretty grand for Mick. Though she was jetlagged and exhausted, I could see her still enamored by its scale. As we walked to our taxi, I went over some Italian phrases she should get acquainted with. And a heads up on the fearless driving styles Italians should be notorious for. And the whole drive with my bestfriend through the fashion capital of Italy, in the back of a taxi, heads out the window, was just screaming Lizzie McGuire vibes to me. I was in my childhood daydream.
Okay, ready for the plot twist? Okay okay. First, whenever I ride taxis in Europe, I make sure to GPS my desired destination on Google Maps because it’s a far cry from the realm of Uber, meaning the longer these drivers drive, the more the cost racks up. Moreover, I just like to be safe and make sure they are not 1. ripping my poor-self off and 2. kidnapping me. Anyways, we get to our hostel and I set my phone down to get to my Euro stash in my underpants belt to pay the nice man… I proceeded to then get my backpack and made sure to tell him “grazie” and “ciao” before walking up the steps of Madama Hostel & Bistro to check-in with Mick. It wasn’t until the receptionist told us to put in the wifi passcode in our phones, that I realized…. my phone was in fact missing.
“It’s probably in your backpack somewhere, I’ll look through it when we get to our room,” Mick had reassured me. And she did just what she said she’d do…. That’s when the terrifying real realization settled in, that my phone was still in that taxi. Great. Day one and already lost one of the most vital pieces of travel… a smartphone. And no matter how frustrating it was that I had been so recklessly forgetful, I couldn’t deny how typical of a situation it was for me in my life.
Frantically, I went to the front desk telling them the bad situation I was in, and asking for any assistance that they could give me. Except, I couldn’t give them any assistance in return, I didn’t know the driver’s name, the car build, the taxi number, the company’s number, nothing. So, basically I was screwed. But, there was not a shot in hell I was going to accept the fact that my phone was lost in Milan. Going back up to our room, I sat on the floor, feeling really defeated, but thinking of possible solutions. I took Mick’s phone, logged onto Find My Samsung and there I saw it! My phone! It sparked adrenaline and determination that I could be reunited with my phone. While I was so intune with my thought process, I almost missed my roommate talking to me.
This was Sam, an electrical software engineer from Seattle. He decided that even though he only knew my first name and the fact that my phone was missing on a taxi somewhere in one of the biggest cities Italy, that he’d come on my madman scavenger hunt to find my phone. And it was both terrifying, for me, because I thought it was a longshot effort that we’d actually ever find my phone… And exciting because, well, for obvious reasons. We saw Milano in its entirety. And there was no denying the city’s high-fashion beauty. Our hunt took us to random street corners, to a hospital, to the famous duomo, and each time we’d reach the pinned location of my phone, Find My Samsung would refresh and its location had moved to another side of the city… it truly was a madman’s game. Luckily, our taxi driver was concerned enough to make phone calls to his friends to find my phone. I wish I had gotten his name (he got a good tip). Nonetheless, after I was €40 poorer and about 40 minutes older, I began to give up hope and told Sam we should just go back to the hostel. And this was when the unthinkable happened. Find My Samsung refreshed and my phone was a block away from the hostel. Then it refreshed again and it was at the hostel! Sam immediately called the hostel, and the receptionists confirmed my phone was there! Atlas, victory for my forgetful mind!
After thanking both taxi drivers a billion times and giving them generous tips for being good samaritans, Sam and I went up to the room to check on Mick. She was still dead asleep to no one’s surprise. Leaving her to sleep, Sam and I celebrated by having two rounds of Spritz (a famous Italian drink that everyone should grant their tastebuds) and a deep conversation. We talked about politics and real topics. It was the kind of soul-satisfying conversation that an old soul needs in order to sustain itself. It was the kind of conversation that makes people rediscover why the human race is still worth it. It was the kind of conversation, that especially it being in a foreign country with essentially a stranger, that fulfills a backpacker’s purpose. We talked for hours, and since I had a different perspective on a couple issues, I learned so much from him and his way of thought. And I saw it. His point-of-view. I was grateful for it. Independent thought is an endangered thing these days and so I have learned that when I see it, to appreciate it.
When we finished our last round and ate through some cold meats (one of my favorite Italian antipastis) we decided to go wake Mick up for dinner. She was much happier then because she had cured her sleep deprivation. And I was much happier because of it too. Nobody needs to experience her sleepy, just as nobody should experience me hungry. (Haha, I am so serious too).
The rest of the evening was a treat. We walked around stormy Milano that Sunday evening, trying to find a restaurant that was neither closed or booked with reservations. Until finally we had come across a quaint pizzeria. This meal was the first authentic Italian meal Mick had ever had and our first real meal abroad. Moreover, we spent the night talking and eating and drinking together. Even once back at the hostel, we just got eachother. It was great. And showering for the first time in 48 hours was even greater (skincare routine too).. Oh! And did I mention we received two new roommates from Austin?! What are the odds, right? Occurrences like those really make me think, the world really is small.
Once I had my fix of hearing the love of my soul’s voice on videochat, I felt full. As if hearing him tell me goodnight was all I needed left… And it was. Because only after whispering in the hostel’s hallway through my phone screen about my day did I find myself fast asleep and dreaming of the future days and how rich of memories they’d be based off the packed first day.
Again, Italia, I love you forever. I am so happy to be back. And sure, Milano was gorgeous, but she has nothing on Toscana (Tuscany)… Toscana, we are coming to you tomorrow! I am so ready to go back home to Chianti and Firenze (Florence). Are you ready to come with me?
xoxo,
J
The Lost Diaries 