Day One

Why is life such that you only enjoy moments of utter triumph after they have passed? After having spent over 3 days of my life behind a document, giving me the right to enter Italy, I was let through after just a cursory glance. The stamp used was barely visible on my passport. If only the immigration officer had made a ruckus; sang a song; doodled over my passport; did something to mark my entry into this country.

I landed about half an hour early at 10.00 am at Milan/Malpensa airport and didn't have to catch my flight to Pisa till 3.30 pm. So with time to kill, I opened up my Italian guidebook and decided to ask someone if I had enough time to go to Milan and be back in time. So my first words in Italian were - Para Inglese (pronounced Paraa Ingleesyay), which meant "Do you know English" ;). She told me that Milan Centrale (Centraalayay) was 40 minutes away and that I shouldn't risk going out there. But I had heard enough warning from the Italians and so I decided to go. The train was very interesting; it had 3 levels not all at the same time, but 3 distinct heights of the windows and seats. I sat on the topmost level and instantly fell in love with this country. It was like home with all the modern amenities of the west (it is the west you might say, but you have to visit Italy to see what I mean)

Milan station was deserted as it was Sunday and most shops/restaurants didn't open till noon. So I just started walking around at random till I came over to an open cafe. Once again I whipped open my Italian guide and asked the lady at the counter to recommend something to me. I fumbled through the words at the first attempt and she cursed her luck for having to deal with me so early in the morning, but after several attempts, she recommended a nice cappucino to me along with a broiche (some sort of sweet croissant). Meanwhile someone behind me heard about the ruckus and introduced himself as Marco, a student who was in his final year studying economics at the university of Milan. We both took up a table and had a hearty discussion of economics, during which I learned that he was going to come to Harvard the following fall to pursue a PhD in economics. Imagine my luck that I run into one of the brightest in the city within 15 minutes of going there. He had some very interesting ideas about China and India. Meanwhile, my cappucino arrived with a seemingly ordinary Broiche. The Broiche was extraordinary with a rich chocolatey flavor. The coffee was too strong for my taste; but then again, as Laura (my mentor) pointed out to me later, even American coffee is usually too strong for me. After this, I walked around for a bit, ran into the building housing the Last Supper by Leonardo Da Vinci and found out that it usually entails about a 2 week waiting time.

After this, I returned to the airport and flew out to Pisa. I was afraid that my bag would get lost, but my fears weren't well founded and I got a taxi with all my stuff to the hotel. The taxi was very expensive and it took about 10-15 minutes to get to my hotel, which is in this obscure place. The nearest public transport is a good 20 minute walk away and the train comes only once an hour. At first the directions to the train station were a bit confusing, so I started asking around for the tren stazione, much to the bewilderment of the Italians. Luckily I got lost into a very nice part of town and saw that the architecture was absolutely stunning. An easy way to describe the city would be to call it a huge Caltech Campus. I ate some pateta (potatoes) and margarita pizza for dinner and had a nice walk back to my hotel.

The receptionist at the hotel complimented me for my Italian and told me that I was already way ahead of most English, Americans and others. He told me that Indians don't even try and that my 'r' s were great. That was the end of an exciting day, my first major visit to a foreign country on my own.