7.6.09

Well that was a brief stop in London, and expensive. I booked a room at the Millenium in Knightsbridge because that was walking distance to the the venue for the Highland Club Ball. What a mission it was getting there though. The drive down the M1 from Haslington (when we finally got away because Robert kept finding one more thing he needed to show Rowan) was okay and we did it in fairly good time, but then we came off the motorway and started negotiating our way through the suburbs. What an eye opener that was. Thank goodness for the GPS, I know how we would have done it without her telling us where to go and where to turn.
We drove in through Cricklewood, which was very ethnic. So many shiny shiny black people, as don't well as middle eastern and Africans. Then we passed into a more up-market area – the road was wider, more residential, and finally round Hyde Park Corner and past the back of the palace and into Knightsbridge. We parked around the back and Rowan helped me get my case upstairs. By this time it was 6.30pm and the London Highland Club ball was due to start at 7.00pm so I quickly had a shower and got into my posh frock and was going to get Rowan to drive me, until we got instructions from the concierge and discovered it was going to be easier for me to walk there, rather than negotiate the one way roads. So I headed off and Rowan went off to catch up with his mates for his last Saturday night in the city.
It was a pleasant walk to the dance, and I had a lovely evening – met a kiwi girl from Rotorua who is living and working in Switzerland and we made tentative arrangements for me to perhaps go to her place at the end of my second cycling stint, before going to Geneva. Will mean juggling my plans a bit, but it would be nice to be shown around a different part of Switzerland by a local. One of her friends is going to the Conference so I may be able to travel down with her.
The walk back from the dance was lovely – what a nice part of London – I walked past all the trendy shops – Versace, Prada, Yves St Laurent, Gucci – just to name a few. What glitzy window displays and what fabulous fashions. Roxy you would just love it – You and I will have to come back here as soon as you've finished studying. The shoes – wow - I've taken a photo of the window display, sure hope it turns out okay. Walking past the shops at 11.30pm taking photos is a dead give-away that you are either a tourist or a spy for the fashion industry – hope they thought I was the latter !!!!
The hotel was lovely, pity I got here so late and had to leave so early – I didn't even get to enjoy a breakfast as I had to be at the airport by 7.30am so that meant leaving at 7.00am. I opted for a taxi in the end, the thought of lugging my suitcase to the nearest tube station at that hour – in the pouring rain (and there was thunder at 6am) was not a pleasant thought. A very interesting taxi driver from Turkey – a Muslim married to a Polish Catholic, who has two children. I got his whole life story, it was very interesting, he seemed a very sensible man.
Check in at the airport was quick once I learned you have to self-check and get your boarding pass before you present to the counter to check your baggage, but after that all was simple and problem free. The flight was quick, just two and a bit hours and before I knew it we were in Italy.
I was very surprised, (and I might add extremely pleased ) to be met at arrivals by a gorgeous young lady holding up a card with my name on it. I was certainly not expecting that. She had been instructed to collect me and take me to the square. She asked where I was staying and she then gave me instructions on how to get from the square to my hotel - I was to take a bus to the railway station, and my hotel was close by.
So okay, me thinks, here comes my very first test of travelling alone. She drops me off at the bus station behind the square and tells me to get a ticket from Roma Square to Mestre Train Station, and then I'm on my own.
I join the queue and don't hear a word of English being spoken. There are people everywhere and I start wracking my brain for the right words for bus ticket, how much etc. And then it's my turn – and within a few seconds I have spent my first E1.10 and I have a ticket in my hand. Two minutes later I am standing on the bus, very few seats, lots of standing room, trying to manipulate my suitcase and overnight bag, hold on to the bloody rail so I don't fall over, wandering how the hell I will know when to get off this thing, when I couldn't get off at the right stop in Auckland.
But surprisingly I did – it was well signposted and I recognised the word stazione!!! So off I get and stand there trying to get my bearings. Ask a couple of people in my very bestest Italian “Dove albergo Trieste?” First two shake their head “Non comprendo signora.” Oh sh...... I think to myself. But then I find someone who says “ah yes just down there cinque” and so I walk another 50 metres and find the hotel, the sign was hidden behind some scaffolding.
An old hotel, the room is so very tiny, the bed so very hard. It has shutters on the windows and so you need the light on even in the daytime and it is very quiet I haven't seen or heard another guest at all.
I unpacked had a bit of a shower – the toilet, bidet, hand basin and shower are all in this little space not as big as my wardrobe at home, so you kind of sit on the loo to shower your feet. Then of course the whole room is wet.
By this time it is about 4pm and I am starving hungry. Had tea and toast at the airport before I got on the plane, then a coffee and a sandwich on the plane, so I am starting to need some food, so I go out to investigate. The man on the desk at the hotel isn't particularly helpful and I ask for a map but he doesn't have one. I enquire about the train I have to catch to Vicenza tomorrow and he says “plenty time” Does that mean he will help me tomorrow?
So I go out to have a look around. Funny little place and of course I have no idea where I am. I go out of the hotel – the stazione is directly in front of me and it has a bar and a McDonald's and a Mercato (market). It is busy, the trains pull in and out and hundreds of people come through, buy coffee (espresso in those tiny wee cups and I'm not certain I'm ready for one of those just yet and food and I can't seem to work out what the system is. Can't see where they are ordering and paying, and there doesn't seem to be a queue to join. So I decide to walk down the street and see if I can find a little cafe somewhere where I can sit quietly and order a meal.
I walk down the street, people everywhere strolling slowly, there are lots of ethnic food places, Indian, Chinese, Turkish and always outside about six men leaning in the doorway, laughing chatting and smoking. Inside only men sitting down eating – Don't the women eat here – no wonder they all look so good.
So I walk for quite a number of blocks – there are a few other shops but it is not really a shopping area, its more houses with a few shops thrown in – so I turn around and wander back – trying to look like a local who knows where she's going. Must be working – I've been here three hours and I haven't had my butt pinched yet!!!!!
So I decide to head back to the stazione and try and work out what the system is. I am starving and thirsty. I chicken out and decide the easiest option is to buy McDonald's. At least I know what I am getting, and the people queue up just the same as at home. So my first meal in Italy is a double cheese and crispy bacon burger and a coke.
I then wander down the stazione to check out how to buy my ticket for Vicenza tomorrow. I know I am being picked up at the stazione at 1750. The train leaves Mestri at 1648 and arrives 1753 so hopefully my contact will wait three minutes for me. I am now starting to feel better. I can understand the timetable, I recognise the words.
I am not confident enough to catch a bus back to the square as it is now around 7pm so I head back to the hotel. Still nobody around, am I the only one staying here? Oh forgot to say I bought some yoghurt and chocolate milk at the mercato to take back to the room in case I need something else to eat later on – a big sign in the lift – no food in the room – fine E30,00 for opposition of this rule. I hope yoghurt isn't classed food!
My body clock hasn't clicked into place yet and I am dead tired, so crash early, but now it is 1am local time and I am wide awake. My computer is telling me it is 11.51 am so I eat one of the pottles of yoghurt and the chocolate milk and sit and type a bit more of my blog. I've had a really good sleep and it's still a long time till breakfast.
But I will post this on the blog and try and get some more sleep and perhaps by tomorrow I will be in sync with the time.
Ciao for now.