Days 21 & 22 - Stupid Sampdoria

Four courses later, and I think the hotel may have regretted the ‘Breakfast Included’ offer they gave us (in case you’re wondering it starts with the traditional cereals and toast, followed by the cheese and meats course, then the fruit platter, and finishes off with coffee and cake). It should have been 5 courses as I saw some other guests with mini croissants, but by the time I got up to the table there were none to be found.

So feeling refreshed and reenergised after yesterday’s mission of a journey we headed into Duomo, at the centre of Milan. The plan had been to have a wander around and get some lunch, before we headed off to watch the Milan vs Sampdoria game in the evening. However after spying a shop with a sale on, Becki decided to trade in the value of her ticket for cash for new clothes instead.

To celebrate her new purchases, we stopped in the Gucci coffee shop for a drink (which is why she is looking so pleased with herself).

      So then it was on to the main business of the day. I left Becki to continue her exploration of the shops in the fashion district of Milan, while I headed over to the San Siro to pick up a ticket……well at least that was the plan. In the hassle I had forgotten that in order to buy a football ticket in Italy you need your passport.

Ten minutes walk/run back to the nearest station and then back towards Duomo on the tube, where I had arranged to meet Becki. I found her casually eating a sorbet, unaware of the mood that was about to come her way! Back to the stadium again this time with passport in tow, and finally 2 hours after I originally set out I had my prized ticket!

 

Becki stayed at the Hotel for some dinner, while I (for the third time that day) headed towards the San Siro. After all that, as some of you may know, Sampdoria had not read the script and picked up a 0-1 away win. I would like to be able to write about how underserved it was, and how we were robbed, but the fact that our best three chances all fell to Mario Yepes (a centre back) just about sums Milans performance up.

Monday was a new day, so time to forget about the football (until next weekend at least) and off to do some sightseeing.  We got up earlier than the day before, mainly so I could get my hands on some of those mini croissants, but unfortunately they were still none (could I have imagined them?)

We went to see Castello Sforzesco, which was good but a fair bit of it was being rebuilt, so we didn't really get the full effect. Becki wasn’t feeling too good, so she had a relax in the shade under a tree in Sempione Park while I went to explore the rest of the park, which is full of random sculptures and hidden little rivers and lakes.

When I got back to Becki, she told me she had been watching a group of dodgy street traders (you know the kind, selling fake designer handbags outside anywhere there’s likely to be tourists) who suddenly ran off and hid behind a bush while the police drove past. As the police car drove around, the traders just moved round to the other side of the same bush, just staying out of sight the entire time. Confused and unable to find them the police gave up and went to have a drink at the coffee bar instead.

That evening we headed on to our next destination, Massa in Tuscany. This was a 4 hour journey on a regional Italian train, which smelt strangely like hospitals. But for only 6 euros a piece I guess you can’t be too picky!

There was a bit of confusion in actually finding the place we were staying since Google maps said the place didn’t exist, and the taxi driver we asked looked just as blank. 

Eventually we did work it out, and arrived at ‘Three Cats of a Lemon Tree’ and were met by our host Lavinia, who for some odd reason had made up her mind that we were French. Becki went along with it for as long as she could find the vocabulary and turning round from getting the bags out the cab I was thoroughly confused about what country we were in!