"Meh" is for "Milan"

I expected big things from Milan. Fashion, shopping, pizzazz.

Yeahhhh, no. Maybe I caught it on a bad day. Or I caught all the people who live there on a bad day. Or it never actually has good days? If anyone knows, I'm open to ideas.

Milan just wasn't very fun. We visited the Duomo, saw the ginormous line, and decided to save our time and money. The problem is, if you don't go to the top of the Duomo, there really isn't anything to do in the city except wander around like a bum and eat panzerotti at Luini's.

So that's what we did...for several hours. It was a lot of walking. We rode the bus a bit...actually, maybe I should talk about the bus first. Ha. Haha.

So I have this really annoying quality called "honesty". I know, it's weird. Because who pays for public transportation? Well, me. "But its just a bus, who cares?" Um. Me.

Which is to say, instead of jumping off the train and sinply jumping into the bus and heading to our "hostel" ("hostel" being a reeeaaaaally generous term), I made my sisters search 45 minutes for a stupid bus ticket machine. Because Italians don't believe in putting them in easy-to-find places or telling you if you can buy them from the driver (nope). This is all information you're just supposed to know. I'll bet it's genetic.

By the time we finally found the ticket machines--down by the metro--and got to the "hostel", it was almost 11 pm. We were exhausted.

The "hostel" was above a dentist and on their Hostelworld profile they said they took cards. You pay a few bucks for the reservation, then pay the rest when you arrive. Easy...until the credit card machine stops working, and you have no cash. I offered the girl my last €15, but she said we could use the card in the morning.

The room was, well, it was a room. It had beds. For color, it had mold in the shower. Which was in the corner of the room. We took one look at it and decided showers could wait until we got to Rome. Seriously, it was so gross. The heating in the room was broken, the walls were paper thin, and the toilet only flushed when you pressed down on the screw they jerry-rigged in the open top of the water tank.

Given that this space was the second step of our introduction to Milan, I'm not surprised that they next day didn't impress us. The card machine wasn't working, so I had to wander around the block looking for an atm. The whole ordeal was so "fun" that after panzerotti, we went and sat in the train station until it was time to go to Rome.

Now. Panzerotti. You guys. EAT THEM. It's like a donut and a calzone had a baby. The best, most delicious baby ever. The dough is slightly sweet, raised, fluffy, and I could eat it forever. They fill it with pizza-type toppings and if you only get one you are cheating yourself out of true happiness. EAT DOZENS OF THEM.

And that's it. Milan was a delicious meal, a pretty cathedral, and a train station. I'm just gonna pretend none of the rest ever happened.