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A new day, a new scene. Milan nights are funny. I was expecting something extraordinary to occur. Something to announce to me that I was finally here, I wondered if it was worth it - I hoped it was. Maybe it was just where the hotel was; down the street and under a tunnel from the train station. I was excited about a floor to ceiling window but less than excited when I opened it. Rows of clothes lines and the sounds of a restaurant kitchen just below us. Luckily I was tired enough that the sounds didn't matter.As hard as I did, I couldn't figure out the attraction to this fashionista capital. I saw nothing attractive in this city besides the Louis Vutton store which was only a short subway ride from the hotel and was more than happy to board the train to Padova, the city which turned out to be my second favorite destination on this epic journey of mine. There is a saying that goes "it's not what it looks like on the outside, it's what inside that matters", and that was definitely the motto to fly with when arriving in this city. Luckily the scenery did change and it turned into the most authentic Italian town I will have seen on the trip. With the backpack attached tightly to my hips, we boarded a city bus and were later graced by five drunken students who would later kiss me on the cheek after finding out we were Canadian. Couldn't have been the Canadian flag... Although warned that we would be sleeping in hostels, in the back of my mind I heard "hotels". Each time I was given the warning that there might be communal showers, bunk beds and other guests snoring, I pictured a penthouse suite at the Hyatt with an individually wrapped chocolate on the pillow - my eyes must have grown tenfold when shown to the arrangements at this true hostel. The tears which were swelling up in my eyes must have been obvious to everyone around me. I don't know what I was more afraid about, the make shift toilets which were a single hole in the ground, or the nude German lady sleeping on the top bunk. Walking through the streets which looked only like cobblestone alley-ways, passing authentic Italian gentlemen with their lady of the evening and attempting to decipher the map which was scribbled on by the clerk at the hostel. The search for food seemed like an uphill battle. But this was ok. I was in a new place, opportunities knocked whenever we turned down a new street. the bizarre and the wonderful happened that evening - and it was a wonderfully expensive dining experience. That was our first meal together, also the most expensive. Posted by Bella at 10:46 PM# 1 Comments: Hey there, By
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