Fatigued, Frozen, eyes tearing in protest from unremoved contacts, the globe trotting superhero slouches in a surprisingly uncomfortable position in front of a building no. 3 on Piazzale F.M... and waits.
he was, waiting of course, for Hannah, who should have returned by then from her skiing trip.
Earlier he had received a call from her while on the way, but due to the chatty commuters, the creaking noises from the ageing Italian tram and the tension of the rapidly diminishing phone credits, he was unable to gather much information. All he heard were these few words.. 'late'.. 'ya it happens'.. 'BURRO'.. 'see u later'. The globe trotter quickly solved the word riddle, and knew she was gonna be late for some reason, and that he should make his way up to the flat by alerting her housemates. Armed with his GPS, a google map printout and confidence the trotter slid back into the plastic chair and waited for the penultimate stop to arrive...
...After getting off the tram, the superhero was greeted by the cruel Milan weather. Hurriedly he slipped on his snow cap and gloves to aid him in the battle against this adversary. With a map in his hand he schlepped thru the wet snow towards what he believed to be Hannah's residence. His breath fogged the metal panel which he was scanning thru to find the name ..'Burro'. The hero then cursed his goldfish memory and his overconfidence who seemed guilty for his inability to recall the apartment name. He knew that he could only make one last short call before his credit was exhausted. So he decided to wait it out for a while...
... it was getting dark, the illuminated display of the phone suggested the time to be 6pm. The superhero was faced with his kryptonite. wet shoes. He battled to prevent his toes from being frostbitten by jogging on the spot. Fearing that he might be perceived by the resident population of the neighborhood as a nutcase, he altered his strategy and walked about instead. His eyes of course still glued on building no. 3, hoping and waiting to spot an English girl holding a snowboard twice her body mass hastening to the gate. To his dismay, this was not to be...
...Two hours had passed and patience was being sucked out of the trotter. Weakened by the cold, he decided it was time to make that call. He pulled his hand out of the glove and typed in the number. no answer. engaged. unreachable. Did her battery die? Fearing that he might soon meet the same fate as Hannah's handphone battery.. the superhero pulled out a bar of swiss chocolate to boost his spirit, at the same time thinking of a plan B. As he was scrolling down the call list, he noticed that Hannah had actually called from another number. Quickly.. he called back. A chirpy male voice answered the phone. It was Hannah's friend... "Hannah has already left, she will be there soon..so sorry".. the trotter inquired once again about the apartment number.. "oh.. it is.. Ferris".. which is what he thought was being said..*click* the phone died. -YOUR CREDIT IS BELOW 2CHF- flashed on the display. He knew he couldn't make anymore calls. Again he scanned thru the list and found a FERRO.. "maybe this is it.." he thought putting burro and ferris together. "CIAO" a voice answered.. "Are you Hannah's house mate?"... "no no no.. house wrong.. no aNNa". The hero was certainly not going to call up all of the fifty apartments in the list. So he decided to wait for Hannah instead, afterall.. she was suppose to be home 'soon'...
... an hour later, sipping his redbull, certain that his evil adversary, the Milan weather, would prevail if the trotter was unable to find himself a safeheaven. SMS,! he thought.. "i can still type an SMS. " Carefully he constructed the sms, as this was his last throw of the dice. The reply was promising. BURRO indeed was the flat name. The hero realised all along he had been standing in front of the wrong DAMN building. Like an excited school boy he ran to the pharmacy building to see if there was another building no. 3 in close proximity. and YES. there was. and with a shiny burro engraved on one of the name plates outside. He pressed the button, and after convincing the people he wasn't a serial killer with a fetish for Italian birthday girls dressed in burlesque outfits, he was let in. FINALLY HE HAD MADE IT, after 3hours of waiting.
I walked into the house and three curious women stood in the hallway. "you are?" ... "Hannah's friend"... "Hannah?".. "OH you mean ANNAH".. "YES!". They were such a sweet bunch. They offer me food which i gladly accepted and gave me a some wine! Including some pretty amazing pasta. Could be, that the ordeal that i had been thru earlier was clouding my culinary judgement. More people began to enter the house, and i engaged in small talk about the WEATHER and life in general. Hannah had yet to show up, so everyone decided to leave for the party without her. But as soon as we left, we made a U-turn back to the house to pick up Hannah. She was seen scurrying up the stairs with a huge ski bag. Once in the car.. she explained that the reason she was delayed, was cause her friend fell off the CLIFF. For a moment i was in shock, and i didn't know what my next question should be.. "is he alive?". She quickly added that luckily he was only mildly injured. After which she revealed our costume for the day.. GLITTER. So i peppered some of that stuff on my face and we were on our way to my first MILLAN party. It was a little club house run by a man and his wife in their seventies. There we had a few drinks and played a game of table soccer, which we got badly trashed at. The woman at the bar was perpetually annoyed, though she did manage a little smile when i clicked a picture of the couple.
Hannah and i both tired because for different reasons, agreed on the fact that we should head back home, to earn some rest. So we drove back with two of her housemates to the apartment, and after a short snowball battle at the carpark we readied ourselves to visit our nonsensical universe of dreams.
The next morning, we lay awake guessing the sounds of the vehicles passing by. A low humming sound making jalopy remains a mystery, as we found it too much effort to peek out of the window to satisfy our curiosity. My body must have felt it weighed a 100 Kilos. I thought for a second that maybe the earth had increased its rotation speed thus exerting a strong gravitational field on me, and so I should surrender to laws of natural physics and remain in bed. Upon realising that earth's rotation had nothing to do with gravity, I propelled out of bed, and joined Hannah in the kitchen to make some breakfast. We stared at the available ingredients as if they were the surviving pieces of jig-saw puzzle, and contemplated how best we could piece them together to form a meaningful picture. 'The Happy Egg' was the name given to this new culinary delight. "Is that your hair?" I questioned as I lifted a piece of mushroom which seemed to be bound to the other with a string-like form...
...The duo parted ways as they left the house. The trotter was off to explore the Milan terrain, while his trusty companion to the LAB to find a cure for Malaria. Out of phone credits, they fixed a meeting point at about lunch time. The trotter happy in his dry and comfy Winnie the poo socks boarded tram no. 12. Not used to having a cartoon character imprinted on his socks, he left his ankles slightly exposed, and was wondering why people passing by giggled as if he were a circus display. It took a kid, tugging on his mum saying "Mama,WINNIE" for the superhero to realise that his masculinity was being shredded to pieces. The trotter for the entire morning managed to only visit two places of interest, a castle and a church, and spend most of his time in the Metro train with his feet pinned against the heater.
The hour was drawing close, but he had still not received an sms from Hannah to confirm the meeting. He decided to head to the location anyway, to wait. Time seemed to move at a lethargic pace in Milan. To his delight he received an sms from his disease-fighting companion, confirming her company for a warm lunch. 30 mins later, at a distant he noticed Hannah racing thru the puddle in her not-so-waterproof boots. Both removed their iconic white headsets unknowingly highlighting apple's dominance in the portable music player market. They walked to a nearby cosy looking cafe, and were welcomed in by a man who surely worked in the Formula One pits before he began waiting tables. Tuned into his 'quick in quick out' strategy mode, he hovered impatiently around the table forcing the duo to pick their vittles. Satisfied by the quality of their order of food n wine. Hannah asked for a Salad! "do u want it Green?" questioned the lady in Italian. "Si". The duo burst into uncontainable laughter, when their 'Green Salad' was literally GREEN CABBAGE! Maybe he secretly knew about their morning breakfast, and their disregard for presentation. With a piece of bread still in the hero's mouth, the F1 Pit-stop attendant dragged away his plate, successfully eliminating any chance of getting a tip with his display of over-efficiency.
..As we walked out again into the cold weather, Hannah suggested we should scrap any plans for sight seeing and just head home for a Movie. That notion was gladly seconded by me. Once home we watched the 'Kite Runner' tucked into the warm and comfortable bed, holding warm cups of tea. The movie ended, and I logged in to check the train timings. And there weren't any. Could possibly be due to the horrible weather, or just the fact that there weren't any late night trains scheduled back to Switzerland. Either way the idea of not going out into the cold again was more than welcoming. Spent rest of the night trying out some football tricks.. before heading back to bed.
.. Next morning after a healthy breakfast of fruits and yogurt, the duo left home again.. with hannah once again on her way to juice cells in the Lab, and the trotter back to Switzerland, back to the office with coffee mugs painted with software design models. Despite the cogent attempt by the horrible weather over two days to ruin his Milan trip.. the superhero felt he had thoroughly enjoyed this weekend in Milan..
Earlier he had received a call from her while on the way, but due to the chatty commuters, the creaking noises from the ageing Italian tram and the tension of the rapidly diminishing phone credits, he was unable to gather much information. All he heard were these few words.. 'late'.. 'ya it happens'.. 'BURRO'.. 'see u later'. The globe trotter quickly solved the word riddle, and knew she was gonna be late for some reason, and that he should make his way up to the flat by alerting her housemates. Armed with his GPS, a google map printout and confidence the trotter slid back into the plastic chair and waited for the penultimate stop to arrive...
...After getting off the tram, the superhero was greeted by the cruel Milan weather. Hurriedly he slipped on his snow cap and gloves to aid him in the battle against this adversary. With a map in his hand he schlepped thru the wet snow towards what he believed to be Hannah's residence. His breath fogged the metal panel which he was scanning thru to find the name ..'Burro'. The hero then cursed his goldfish memory and his overconfidence who seemed guilty for his inability to recall the apartment name. He knew that he could only make one last short call before his credit was exhausted. So he decided to wait it out for a while...
... it was getting dark, the illuminated display of the phone suggested the time to be 6pm. The superhero was faced with his kryptonite. wet shoes. He battled to prevent his toes from being frostbitten by jogging on the spot. Fearing that he might be perceived by the resident population of the neighborhood as a nutcase, he altered his strategy and walked about instead. His eyes of course still glued on building no. 3, hoping and waiting to spot an English girl holding a snowboard twice her body mass hastening to the gate. To his dismay, this was not to be...
...Two hours had passed and patience was being sucked out of the trotter. Weakened by the cold, he decided it was time to make that call. He pulled his hand out of the glove and typed in the number. no answer. engaged. unreachable. Did her battery die? Fearing that he might soon meet the same fate as Hannah's handphone battery.. the superhero pulled out a bar of swiss chocolate to boost his spirit, at the same time thinking of a plan B. As he was scrolling down the call list, he noticed that Hannah had actually called from another number. Quickly.. he called back. A chirpy male voice answered the phone. It was Hannah's friend... "Hannah has already left, she will be there soon..so sorry".. the trotter inquired once again about the apartment number.. "oh.. it is.. Ferris".. which is what he thought was being said..*click* the phone died. -YOUR CREDIT IS BELOW 2CHF- flashed on the display. He knew he couldn't make anymore calls. Again he scanned thru the list and found a FERRO.. "maybe this is it.." he thought putting burro and ferris together. "CIAO" a voice answered.. "Are you Hannah's house mate?"... "no no no.. house wrong.. no aNNa". The hero was certainly not going to call up all of the fifty apartments in the list. So he decided to wait for Hannah instead, afterall.. she was suppose to be home 'soon'...
... an hour later, sipping his redbull, certain that his evil adversary, the Milan weather, would prevail if the trotter was unable to find himself a safeheaven. SMS,! he thought.. "i can still type an SMS. " Carefully he constructed the sms, as this was his last throw of the dice. The reply was promising. BURRO indeed was the flat name. The hero realised all along he had been standing in front of the wrong DAMN building. Like an excited school boy he ran to the pharmacy building to see if there was another building no. 3 in close proximity. and YES. there was. and with a shiny burro engraved on one of the name plates outside. He pressed the button, and after convincing the people he wasn't a serial killer with a fetish for Italian birthday girls dressed in burlesque outfits, he was let in. FINALLY HE HAD MADE IT, after 3hours of waiting.
I walked into the house and three curious women stood in the hallway. "you are?" ... "Hannah's friend"... "Hannah?".. "OH you mean ANNAH".. "YES!". They were such a sweet bunch. They offer me food which i gladly accepted and gave me a some wine! Including some pretty amazing pasta. Could be, that the ordeal that i had been thru earlier was clouding my culinary judgement. More people began to enter the house, and i engaged in small talk about the WEATHER and life in general. Hannah had yet to show up, so everyone decided to leave for the party without her. But as soon as we left, we made a U-turn back to the house to pick up Hannah. She was seen scurrying up the stairs with a huge ski bag. Once in the car.. she explained that the reason she was delayed, was cause her friend fell off the CLIFF. For a moment i was in shock, and i didn't know what my next question should be.. "is he alive?". She quickly added that luckily he was only mildly injured. After which she revealed our costume for the day.. GLITTER. So i peppered some of that stuff on my face and we were on our way to my first MILLAN party. It was a little club house run by a man and his wife in their seventies. There we had a few drinks and played a game of table soccer, which we got badly trashed at. The woman at the bar was perpetually annoyed, though she did manage a little smile when i clicked a picture of the couple.
Hannah and i both tired because for different reasons, agreed on the fact that we should head back home, to earn some rest. So we drove back with two of her housemates to the apartment, and after a short snowball battle at the carpark we readied ourselves to visit our nonsensical universe of dreams.
The next morning, we lay awake guessing the sounds of the vehicles passing by. A low humming sound making jalopy remains a mystery, as we found it too much effort to peek out of the window to satisfy our curiosity. My body must have felt it weighed a 100 Kilos. I thought for a second that maybe the earth had increased its rotation speed thus exerting a strong gravitational field on me, and so I should surrender to laws of natural physics and remain in bed. Upon realising that earth's rotation had nothing to do with gravity, I propelled out of bed, and joined Hannah in the kitchen to make some breakfast. We stared at the available ingredients as if they were the surviving pieces of jig-saw puzzle, and contemplated how best we could piece them together to form a meaningful picture. 'The Happy Egg' was the name given to this new culinary delight. "Is that your hair?" I questioned as I lifted a piece of mushroom which seemed to be bound to the other with a string-like form...
...The duo parted ways as they left the house. The trotter was off to explore the Milan terrain, while his trusty companion to the LAB to find a cure for Malaria. Out of phone credits, they fixed a meeting point at about lunch time. The trotter happy in his dry and comfy Winnie the poo socks boarded tram no. 12. Not used to having a cartoon character imprinted on his socks, he left his ankles slightly exposed, and was wondering why people passing by giggled as if he were a circus display. It took a kid, tugging on his mum saying "Mama,WINNIE" for the superhero to realise that his masculinity was being shredded to pieces. The trotter for the entire morning managed to only visit two places of interest, a castle and a church, and spend most of his time in the Metro train with his feet pinned against the heater.
The hour was drawing close, but he had still not received an sms from Hannah to confirm the meeting. He decided to head to the location anyway, to wait. Time seemed to move at a lethargic pace in Milan. To his delight he received an sms from his disease-fighting companion, confirming her company for a warm lunch. 30 mins later, at a distant he noticed Hannah racing thru the puddle in her not-so-waterproof boots. Both removed their iconic white headsets unknowingly highlighting apple's dominance in the portable music player market. They walked to a nearby cosy looking cafe, and were welcomed in by a man who surely worked in the Formula One pits before he began waiting tables. Tuned into his 'quick in quick out' strategy mode, he hovered impatiently around the table forcing the duo to pick their vittles. Satisfied by the quality of their order of food n wine. Hannah asked for a Salad! "do u want it Green?" questioned the lady in Italian. "Si". The duo burst into uncontainable laughter, when their 'Green Salad' was literally GREEN CABBAGE! Maybe he secretly knew about their morning breakfast, and their disregard for presentation. With a piece of bread still in the hero's mouth, the F1 Pit-stop attendant dragged away his plate, successfully eliminating any chance of getting a tip with his display of over-efficiency.
..As we walked out again into the cold weather, Hannah suggested we should scrap any plans for sight seeing and just head home for a Movie. That notion was gladly seconded by me. Once home we watched the 'Kite Runner' tucked into the warm and comfortable bed, holding warm cups of tea. The movie ended, and I logged in to check the train timings. And there weren't any. Could possibly be due to the horrible weather, or just the fact that there weren't any late night trains scheduled back to Switzerland. Either way the idea of not going out into the cold again was more than welcoming. Spent rest of the night trying out some football tricks.. before heading back to bed.
.. Next morning after a healthy breakfast of fruits and yogurt, the duo left home again.. with hannah once again on her way to juice cells in the Lab, and the trotter back to Switzerland, back to the office with coffee mugs painted with software design models. Despite the cogent attempt by the horrible weather over two days to ruin his Milan trip.. the superhero felt he had thoroughly enjoyed this weekend in Milan..
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