It’s 0946 and I am sitting in a fairly crowded cafeteria. Already I have eaten an almond croissant and a mushroom pizza for breakfast and I’m now tucking in to filled pastry of some sort; I think it’s an apple pie. Last night, and no more than 500 yards from where I now sit, I was tucking in to a variation on a cheese and ham sandwich and by and large my diet has been this way ever since I arrived, ever since I set foot on Italian soil. So much for the Mediterranean Diet!
I’ve spent the last three nights in the Quo Vadis hotel, a
good 15 minute walk from here and, while it was clean, that was its only
redeeming feature. Everything else was rubbish so let’s start with the WiFi, it
was non-existent. It ‘worked’ to a degree
but not enough for me to use my computer, it was extremely slow. So slow it
rendered everything pointless, everything, that is, to do with my computer,
which I haven’t used since I got here. I might as well have left it at home and
saved the energy of humping it here, there and everywhere.
Then there was the shower which, again, worked, but was
little more than a dribble. I would have preferred a more powerful shower, put
it that way. However, by far the most annoying aspect of the hotel was the
lighting, which was on an energy-saving timer switch. I first realised this
when I checked in and asked whether I could use the bathroom, it was virtually
next door to the front desk (not always ideal). In I went, dying to go after
drinking a bottle of Pellegrino on the train from Milano (see previous post).
While mid-pee I was plunged into darkness and had to shake a leg in order to
restore the light. It was something I would have to get used to as the entire
hotel was using the same system. My room, room 31, was not in the main hotel,
but in a spooky annexe across the road. There was a wrought iron gate that
required a key card to gain entry; once through the gate, a small courtyard
leading to another set of wrought iron doors and once through the doors there was
blackness. I could see nothing until I danced a jig and the lights came on. I then
humped my suitcase up the solid stone steps, being careful to hold on to the
wrought iron banister on my right side but halfway up the stairs off went the
lights and I was plunged once again into darkness. I had to dance again, not a
strong point, and the light returned.
Throughout my stay at the hotel and without a suitcase to
hump around I managed to get from downstairs to my hotel room door before the
lights went out, but it was very, very annoying, even if it did add a little
excitement to my daily routine.
When I want across the road to the main hotel building, I
was even more disappointed. Three-star hotel, three-star breakfast I was
thinking as surveyed the cakes and pastries and the tinned fruit and realised
that I had three days of this. Three days of sub-standard breakfasts consisting
largely of, yes, you guessed it, cake.
Reluctantly I tucked in but I resolved to find somewhere else
for the most important meal of the day. What I found was better in terms of its
surrounding, but the food was the same
and this time included the pizza and countless varieties of Lindor
chocolates. This morning’s meal was my second and now here I am awaiting the
1125 train to Milan after a pizza, an almond croissant plus tea plus a filled
pastry which, as I’ve said, I think was apple. I like apple pie but on this
trip the amount of cakes and biscuits is just too much to bear especially for
me as I’m extremely weak-willed when it comes to cake, as avid readers will
know.
I am awaiting the 1123 train from Udine to Milano Central
which departs in about one hour from now and when I reach Milan I will take the
train to Malpensa and fly home to London.
The Quo Vadis had its faults but at least it was clean, but
I wouldn’t stay there again because of its location. Yes, around 15 minutes on
foot from the train station, but in a
dreary part of town. I went to bed early on most nights and that was fine but
only because I was travelling alone and it can be just that…very lonely, making
hitting the sack the best option. Last night I watched a couple of episodes of
Only Fools and Horse and then turned in for the night with only my own thoughts
to keep me company and for some reason I started to imagine myself as a guest
on Graham Norton entertaining film stars with comedic tales and observations.
You might think I would remember my dreams, but I don’t think I had any to
remember.
And now I’m sitting here watching fellow travellers go about
their business, the clatter of crockery, the gurgling espresso machine and the
radio blaring out rubbishy pop songs that I didn’t recognise.
I notice it is possible to buy the station café’s merchandise
in the shape of a tee-shirt with the words Il Caffee della Stazione written on
the front and an illustration of a train. These, I figured, are the best kind
of merch because it’s unlikely you’re going to find anybody else wearing it and
that excited me! I’ll be one, I must buy one!
But then, when I had taken off my writing glasses and took
another look, they weren’t tee-shirts at all, they were, in fact, paper bags in
which to put cakes and pastries to take home. Disappointed, I made my way to
Platform 6 and boarded the train to Milano.
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