Bonjourno Como.
Well we're here. No problems with the trains and an event free journey to the airport. Plane on time and one hour fifty five minutes later we were in Bergamo. Italy. The start of our Italian Odyssey.
Straight through customs and out into brilliant sunshine and mediterainian temperatures. We weren't sure how we were going to get to Milan for our connecting train to Como but it turned out to be a breeze. Right outside the airport arrivals area were several buses all bound for Milano Centrali train station, the very place we needed to be. Five euros each saw us travelling along the motorway bound for downtown Milan. The journey took 55 minutes and the traffic was horrendous. Maybe it was because it was home time for the several million people that work in Milan or maybe because this is Italy and its always manic. Who knows?. I had researched via Google and the tinternet the train times to Como and knew that the last train left Milan at 19:10. After that there was no easy way to get to our first location.
We arrived at the huge neo renaissance train station in the very heart of Milan at 1800 in Plenty time to sus out the intricacies of the Italian rail network in order to reach our destination.
Being lucky enough to be born a son of a great explorative nation we assume that every nation and peoples of the world should have the courtesy and general common decency to use English as a second language. India, Malaysia, Singapore all have the good sense to duplicate every useful sign into English. Not so Italy. Having never had the dubious benefit of being a colony they have never seen the need to replicate signs in anything other than Italian. This as you can imagine is most disconcerting for someone who has been blessed with being born a son of the empire and as such has never seen the need to learn a second language. What is Italian for "ticket office"? It took several failed attempts to purchase our tickets before finding the right desk. Then several minutes of wandering through the chaos of a foreign railway station at rush hour to find the right platform and train. The system is, it seems, is that you purchase a ticket, once you find the right desk, and suitable attendant that can speak English, watch the information boards like a hawk and then run for the right platform as fast as you can before the train lock's its doors and sets off into the void.
We were lucky enough to bump into a lovely young Italian lady called Carla who had worked in Blackpool for several years and was going home to holiday with her family in Como. She guided us through the process of ticket validation and escorted us to our final destination. Its only when you travel that you realize what a small planet it is we live on. Carla comes from Como but works in Blackpool as the pay is better. We spent most of the journey talking about Blackpool. The illuminations and Scots week. God bless her she was a veritable gold mine of information and cleared up a lot of grey areas. The rest of our many train journeys should now be simple.
Thirty minutes later we arrived at Como station. Carla had mentioned during the short journey that Como was having a bit of a problem with African refugees at the present time. This I feel was an understatement.
Como is only a stonesthrow from the Swiss border and as such was a popular route for people trying to continue their journey into Western Europe from Africa and the middle east. Since the borders closed it has become a bit of a bottleneck and camps of refugees have sprung up around the train station as people, mostly African, wait for their chance to continue northwards. We must admit that it was a bit of a shock. The station lobby was like an overcrowded youth hostel and the park outside the station resembled a compact version of the Calaise Jungle.
Once away from the station there was no signs of a crisis.
Como is gorgeous. An ancient city sat by the side of a spectacular lake surrounded by majestic mountains. A picture paradise. The hotel I had booked was no disappointment either. Overlooking the lake directly in front of the ferry boat moorings. Bags dropped, and out into the town for dinner. Como, as it stands today, was originally designed by the romans and as such follows a simple grid plan. A simple grid of streets joined by cute little squares. We headed to the first one and had a great meal. Crispy has recently been diagnosed as Coeliac and as most Italian cuisine revolves around bread and pasta we anticipated a little difficulty in finding gluten free foods. As it happened the chef and staff were very helpful and she was soon repleat and happy. A few litres of vino blanco and bed time. Busy day tomorrow as we are only here for one full day so we must make the most of it.
Well we're here. No problems with the trains and an event free journey to the airport. Plane on time and one hour fifty five minutes later we were in Bergamo. Italy. The start of our Italian Odyssey.
Straight through customs and out into brilliant sunshine and mediterainian temperatures. We weren't sure how we were going to get to Milan for our connecting train to Como but it turned out to be a breeze. Right outside the airport arrivals area were several buses all bound for Milano Centrali train station, the very place we needed to be. Five euros each saw us travelling along the motorway bound for downtown Milan. The journey took 55 minutes and the traffic was horrendous. Maybe it was because it was home time for the several million people that work in Milan or maybe because this is Italy and its always manic. Who knows?. I had researched via Google and the tinternet the train times to Como and knew that the last train left Milan at 19:10. After that there was no easy way to get to our first location.
We arrived at the huge neo renaissance train station in the very heart of Milan at 1800 in Plenty time to sus out the intricacies of the Italian rail network in order to reach our destination.
Being lucky enough to be born a son of a great explorative nation we assume that every nation and peoples of the world should have the courtesy and general common decency to use English as a second language. India, Malaysia, Singapore all have the good sense to duplicate every useful sign into English. Not so Italy. Having never had the dubious benefit of being a colony they have never seen the need to replicate signs in anything other than Italian. This as you can imagine is most disconcerting for someone who has been blessed with being born a son of the empire and as such has never seen the need to learn a second language. What is Italian for "ticket office"? It took several failed attempts to purchase our tickets before finding the right desk. Then several minutes of wandering through the chaos of a foreign railway station at rush hour to find the right platform and train. The system is, it seems, is that you purchase a ticket, once you find the right desk, and suitable attendant that can speak English, watch the information boards like a hawk and then run for the right platform as fast as you can before the train lock's its doors and sets off into the void.
We were lucky enough to bump into a lovely young Italian lady called Carla who had worked in Blackpool for several years and was going home to holiday with her family in Como. She guided us through the process of ticket validation and escorted us to our final destination. Its only when you travel that you realize what a small planet it is we live on. Carla comes from Como but works in Blackpool as the pay is better. We spent most of the journey talking about Blackpool. The illuminations and Scots week. God bless her she was a veritable gold mine of information and cleared up a lot of grey areas. The rest of our many train journeys should now be simple.
Thirty minutes later we arrived at Como station. Carla had mentioned during the short journey that Como was having a bit of a problem with African refugees at the present time. This I feel was an understatement.
Como is only a stonesthrow from the Swiss border and as such was a popular route for people trying to continue their journey into Western Europe from Africa and the middle east. Since the borders closed it has become a bit of a bottleneck and camps of refugees have sprung up around the train station as people, mostly African, wait for their chance to continue northwards. We must admit that it was a bit of a shock. The station lobby was like an overcrowded youth hostel and the park outside the station resembled a compact version of the Calaise Jungle.
Once away from the station there was no signs of a crisis.
Como is gorgeous. An ancient city sat by the side of a spectacular lake surrounded by majestic mountains. A picture paradise. The hotel I had booked was no disappointment either. Overlooking the lake directly in front of the ferry boat moorings. Bags dropped, and out into the town for dinner. Como, as it stands today, was originally designed by the romans and as such follows a simple grid plan. A simple grid of streets joined by cute little squares. We headed to the first one and had a great meal. Crispy has recently been diagnosed as Coeliac and as most Italian cuisine revolves around bread and pasta we anticipated a little difficulty in finding gluten free foods. As it happened the chef and staff were very helpful and she was soon repleat and happy. A few litres of vino blanco and bed time. Busy day tomorrow as we are only here for one full day so we must make the most of it.
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