At the train station, I could not find where to buy the tickets. I could not even find the metro. I searched and searched. It was huge. I asked 2 person. But as soon as I start talking, they replied "No English". I wonder how they even know that I am speaking english if they could not understand. I give up. I searched, I failed again. Soon, I saw a young girl. Looks like a uni student to me. And I remembered that Vallentina, a Italian exchange student in oslo, was able to speak basic english to me. So I approached that girl, and to my delight, she says she speaks a little english. However, her directions were to good. She points right and says turn left. Eventually, I was to find out that her directions brought me to nowhere, even after I tried turning both left and right. So I walked walked walked to a queue that looks like people are asking for information. I got a map of the metro from the hostel. And finally, I asked the staff, who also could not speak english. Hence, I showed him the map and he pointed outside the door and below the ground. So its an escalator outside the door to the underground. Yes, I found it. The only escalator that goes underground.
Underground, I was in for more culture shock. It was so busy, so many people. So many stalls. But everyone is queueing at a yellow cigarette store and the boss is so busy shouting. I figured this must be the queue to buy ticket. I queued. Behind me queued a few China middle woman who spoke in Mandarin. I heard them say this is the queue. And clarified. As usual, Asians always look shock when you talk to them, like you are some bad guy. I bought my ticket. Didnt know which to buy, so I bought the cheapest for 1 euro. For the first time in my life, I was to learn that the ticket was only valid for 1 metro trip. For buses, you can take more trip within 90mins. Well, I did manage to get to the right stop, after enduring the warm, stuffy, smelly, dirty, packed train, while clutching to my bag tightly for fear of robbers.
I alighted. And tried to get to my place, but didnt know where to exit. I wanted to ask, but figured that I would not start a sentence with english, because they would just ignore me. So I approached a stall owner at the metro and said "San Siro?" while pointing at a random direction. He replied "San Siro _ _ _ _ " and pointed somewhere else. I followed that direction. Glad, I realised that not opening a sentence with English helps.
Along the way, I did the same.
The walk to San Siro, internet tip says follow the row of trees.
After 20 mins of walking, I stopped at a junction. A woman saw me and asked me "where are you going?" I was shocked. But at the same time, I was really careful of being approached on the streets. Too many real stories of friends of friends who got robbed because they trusted the strangers who approach them and let their guard down.
And after 30 mins of walking, I saw San Siro.
But nearest to me, was a horse-racing stadium. I could not help but notice the huge horse.
Had to do this shot.
Burnt down buildings beside San Siro.
San Siro - home to AC Milan and Inter Milan.
He took this shot for me. The buldge on the side is my waist pouch, hidden inside my jacket to prevent pickpockets and robbers. It might seem exaggerated, but its Milan. No joke at all.
At this point, I realised that the rain had gotten into my camera lens, hence the blur.
I walked in, only to realise that it costs 12.50 euro. As I hesitated, the counter was pissed and shouted at me to hurry up. I thought it was so rude to be pissed at a customer. They offered me a discounted price of 10 euro because they thought I was the Malaysian couple's son & I was under-18. (Nevertheless, student ticket should cost 10 euros anw). So I bought it.
You have to give credit to his wife. He's the obsessed soccer fan, she isnt. And she has followed him from Manchester, liverpool (both in England) to Madrid, Barcelona (both in Spain) to Milan, Italy - just to fulfill his dream and take pictures + video of him alone.
Going into the dressing rooms
Inter Milan's dressing room.
Quite a lousy equipped dressing room. No wonder got wacked by Man Utd.
AC Milan's dressing room.
The guide and I. He's a fan of AC, not inter.
One of the many seats for the AC players. Each has their own. The crowd was quiet most of the time, until David Beckham's name is mentioned, and then lots of commotion among the teens. All in Italian, but I assume they are talking about Beckham. (I wonder how he find this city & live here without Italian)
His name is Jalul. A Malaysian banker. At the AC Milan team talk table.
The store. This you must see. Look at how angry the counter woman (right) is? Staring at me and folding her arms, just because Im trying to take a shot. I really must say, Italians are not the most hospitable people on planet earth. This is a visitor place, where photos are expected. Imagine what kind of hard treatment I suffered at less touristy places. Sometimes, I wonder whether Im seeing true blue b@rbar|an5, or it@lian5 are simply their descendants. Undeveloped in their mind, behaviour, attitude, manners, streets, buildings, city.
After San Siro, Jalul's plan was the same as mine. We wanted to visit Duomo. However, our methods of getting there was different. Jalul wanted to take cab, because he says he has no time. After talking to him, I realise he had been using cab as his mode of transport, neglecting the cost completely. Since he offered to pay, I decided to help him get a cab. However, we crossed the streets countless times and countless cabs passed without stopping. Tomorrow I was to discover on a tourist newspaper, that it is impossible to get a cab off the streets in Milan, because their drivers weirdly (whats new) refuse to stop on the road side (how to do business like that? no wonder undev3loped & poor lah)
Hence, we give up and decided to take the tram there. Jalul met an old Italian man on the tram stop, who talked to him. Surprised that he spoke english, we were to discover that the old man travelled to Malaysia before. We could not buy ticket as there was no cigarette store nearby. The old man offered to sell us tickets. I wonder why he had so many extras. Jalul bought 3 from him, 1 for me. I didnt like it, because I had intended to hop onto the tram for free. But since he bought it already, and spent another 1 euro.
Jalul and wife.
We alighted, Jalul got hungry and decided to eat at Macs. Being Muslim, the only Halal food in italy is mac's fish burger.
At macs, I would receive another culture shock. They needed to pay for their ketchup and chilla sauce. And it costs too much for a sauce. We chatted. They thought I was "brave" (I interpret it as crazy) to go to Italy alone. I know, it was unwise and I regret it. After that, we walked to Duomo.
Inside Duomo
Inside Duomo
After that, we went to the arcade shopping beside Duomo. It looks really great.
At the center of the shopping arcade. There are 4 shops that face the center, the most prime position, which should also be the most expensive. And rightly so, when I saw Prada and Louis Vuitton.
When I saw this I was laughing like shit. The top 4 most expensive shops include McDonalds. Looks like Macs is on the bar with Prada and Louis Vuitton.
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