In Milano...ranting and raving

A very pleasant and smooth British Airways flight from Heathrow Terminal Five took me into Milano's Linate airport this evening and after a hassle-free taxi ride to my hotel, the Best Western Hotel Galles in the centre of the city, I took a short stroll to the amazing central railway station, an incredible building if ever there was one. Go check it out! I bet Michael Portillo has been here.

View from room 571, Hotel Galles, Milan

Anyway, the station was a short walk from the hotel so I moseyed on down there and bought myself a ticket to Firenze - that's Florence if you were wondering. I'm on business tomorrow but then I'm on private time for the weekend. So, I bought my ticket and walked back towards the hotel with every intention of having dinner there, but on the way back I spotted a great little restaurant, so good I can't remember the name of it, but that might be something to do with the Chianti Classico and the weird lemon liqueur they served up (I think it's called Limoncello).

The meal was okay. Alright, it could have been better, but that wasn't the restaurant's fault, it was mine. Why? Because I should have opted for simplicity but didn't. I should have ordered a pizza and a glass of wine, but instead I opted for risotto to start followed by fillet of sole, except that it clearly wasn't a fillet. An embarassing moment occured. Or rather a panicky situation developed. Not as bad as it could have been. I could have choked on a fish bone. I might have needed the waiters to turn me upside down to dislodge a fishbone, but oh no, it wasn't that bad. I took a mouthful of fish only to discover that I had a mouthful of bones and needed to get rid of them pronto! The only option open to me was to spit them out into the napkin, which I did surrepticiously, and then guarded the napkin with my life. The last thing I wanted now was for a waiter to whisk the napkin away from me and empty its contents - spat out fish and bones - on himself or even another guest. Had something like that happened I would have died on the spot. But it didn't, fortunately. In the end, when nobody was looking, I put the offending napkin on a table recently vacated by four women. They looked like the sort of people who would spit a load of fish bones into a napkin.

I left a cash tip, but I should have walked out without giving them so much as a dime, but it wasn't their fault. The place was great, it certainly had a lot more atmosphere than the hotel restaurant. I'd travelled up to the sixth floor to check it out and found it seriously lacking in the atmosphere and general comfort department. It was drab, poorly-lit and, I'm afraid, considerably depressing. Fortunately none of the waiters saw me leave, so I was in the clear. I hadn't ordered anything.

Room 571, Hotel Galles, Milan

And now I sit on the ground floor, in the lobby area of the hotel, close to the bar, in what amounts to the Hotel Galles' business centre - a couple of workstations and a printer, but it's fine, honestly, so I'll crack on.

There are many things I should be writing about, but I might leave it as I need to get some sleep. A busy day tomorrow awaits me, but there is time to dish up a few awards. As you might imagine, travelling often means reading newspapers and newspapers always make me angry. Angry enough to put pen to paper, so I thought I'd introduce some awards.

1. Atrocity of the Week - this goes to India and four men arrested in Northern India over allegations that they burnt alive two low-caste children. One has to ask why, but sadly the answer is simply not good enough as it involved a group of men killing an eight-month old girl and her two-year-old brother by igniting gasoline poured through the windows of their home. What else can be said other than what bastards! "This is a fight among families, not about castes," said Hawahar Yadav, an official from the office of Harayana's chief minister. Oh, well that's alright, burn some more children, don't worry about us.

2. Nob Cheese of the Week - well it has to go to BMW driver Neil Waugh who blocked the way of two paramedics urgently trying to get to hospital. There is a word I would like to use to describe this man, but despite the fact that it is only four letters, it is offensive in the extreme as it rhymes with hunt and runt. Needless to say, Waugh has tried to weedle out of it saying he has been portrayed as the kind of person who would rather let someone die in an ambulance than move his car. Well, yes, that is because you DID just that, you, you, you... (fill in your own expletives).

3. Political Wanker of the Week - it has to be David Cameron for so many reasons, one being that he is David Cameron, but also because he is reportedly 'delighted' that his plan to cut tax credits has passed the House of Commons. He is also Political Wanker of the Week because he cannot stand up to the Chinese and tell them to fuck off. Rather than do that he's gone and involved them in our nuclear power supply. What a runt! Furthermore, he is clearly going to do nothing to save our ailing steel industry, which is also the fault of the Chinese. Sod the red carpet treatment, that Xi Jinping needs a slap! Innit!

I'm off to bed. Goodnight!

In Milano...

I knew that there would be 'Boris Bikes' in Milano and sure enough, I spied some this morning just prior to boarding the Malpensa Express. Malpensa is Milano's 'Gatwick' airport, it's quite a distance out of central Milano, but a lot depends on what train you catch.

The view from Room 107 of the Melia Milano hotel. Not very inspiring.

Last night, having fallen victim to my travel company's mess-up, I had to fly into Malpensa rather than the more central Linate. I had been booked on the 1225pm flight, which would have got me into Milano around 3pm, giving me time to have a wander around in the daylight and possibly have some dinner with my colleague, Ken. But it was not to be. Why? Because while I thought I was booked on the 1225pm easyJet flight... I wasn't.

And then, to make matters worse, the girl on the counter said there were no more flights available that day, meaning I'd have to go back to work. I called my travel company and they told me there were still three seats on the 1500hrs flight to Malpensa. They smartly booked me on it and I had to spend the day in The Terminal, pretending to be Tom Hanks. This wasn't as bad as it might seem. I had an early lunch (at noon) in Frankie & Benny's where I ordered a chicken club sandwich and a couple of glasses of red wine and sat there for just over an hour reading Q magazine, something I haven't done for a long time.

Inside Room 107 of the Melia Milano – a wonderful hotel with an amazing restaurant.

Then, around 1pm, I wandered around the very boring South Terminal looking at things I couldn't afford and, if the truth be known, things I didn't particularly want either – like clothes from SuperDry. What is it about SuperDry? Over-priced clothes in my opinion and hey, who wants to 'follow the pack'. I've always been 'man at Millets' so brands like SuperDry leave me cold. Then there was the raffle for the super car. I'd never win it, so I resisted the advances of the salesgirl who thought I would be foolish enough to fall for her 'charms' – I smiled politely but didn't stop walking. In fact, I walked and walked and walked, wishing I'd dragged out my lunch for a little longer.

Eventually I made my way to the gate. While I'm now what you would call a 'frequent flyer', I hadn't flown since November, when I went to Dusseldorf from City Airport. I was a little apprehensive because of the weather. Outside it was dark and rainy. Visibility was virtually nil and it was only 1330 when the plane took off and headed for the clouds. I was expecting turbulence, but got none. Within ten minutes of flying through the gloom the plane emerged from the clouds and was bathed in afternoon sunshine all the way to Milan where there was no rain.

EZY 5294 back in Gatwick Airport having left behind a rainy, cloudy Milano.

But I was a long way from dinner. First a bus journey to Terminal One at Malpensa where I bought a ticket on the aforementioned Malpensa Express to Milan's Central Station, a rather impressive-looking building where I needed to get some cash for the taxi to the hotel. I thought the Melia Milano was in the centre of town – and it probably was – but the taxi took an age to get there: a good twenty minutes. When I arrived, Ken was waiting. He'd already eaten so I had to eat alone in the hotel restaurant. I hadn't eaten since that Frankie & Benny's lunch at noon UK time. It was now nearly 9pm Milano time (I'd gained an hour and hadn't eaten a thing). On the plane I'd bought one of those small bottles of wine, but hadn't opened it, and a cup of tea and a bottle of mineral water both of which I consumed with gusto as the wine at Gatwick had made me thirsty.

The hotel meal was one of the best I'd experienced in a long time: vegetable soup, risotto with tender lamb and a glass of red wine.

I was tired. Around 10pm I went to my room and watched Question Time – George Galloway and David Starkey are always good value for money – and then I hit the sack, waking around 4am, getting up just before 6am, having an early and very healthy breakfast in the hotel before heading out to a nearby caff – Puro Gusto – for a quick cappucccino before the meeting.

The rain that had been pelting England the day before was now pouring down on the streets of Milano and had been during the night. Had the weather been better I wouldn't have taken breakfast in the hotel. Why? Because it was EUR35.00! But it was raining so I had a load of healthy stuff – yoghurt, fresh fruit, muesli, nuts, a banana and a cup of tea.

And that was it. We left the meeting and headed for the Malpensa Express. Oddly, it only took 30 minutes. Last night it had taken me 52 minutes and stopped at many different stations en route.

Once at the terminal I checked in and immediately lost that miniature bottle of wine I'd purchased on the flight out from Gatwick. The suitcase went through the X-Ray machine and an eagle-eyed security guard spotted it. "Have a drink on me," I said with jocularity, but he didn't even smile. I'd have been okay had I checked the suitcase it, but because it was the right dimensions to be considered hand luggage, I kept it with me. On the flight out I'd done the same thing, losing, in the process, my shaving foam. This morning I had to lather up my hands with soap as I had no idea where the nearest pharmacy would be and, besides, it was drizzling rain. So, I'd lost a small bottle of wine and some shaving foam, but they were the only casualties.

The flight back was as fine as the flight out. This time I had a window seat (seat 3A) – on the way out it was seat 9E (the middle seat in a row of three). For the return trip I ordered another mini bottle of red wine and a cup of tea, having bought a cheese and ham roll from a small café at the gate.

The weather in and around the UK was lovely. Cotton wool clouds over the English Channel and as the plane approached the UK I could clearly see Beachy Head and Eastbourne Pier and then that huge white church in East Grinstead. The landscape below me looked very familiar, probably because it was familiar and not million miles from where Andy, Phil and I go cycling at weekends.

I'm told the good weather of today won't last and that the weekend promises to revert back to the crap of the last few days: blizzards and driving rain. Things have been very bad in the South West: extensive flooding, emergency conditions, waves hitting houses, you name it, and it seems as if today is the exception to the rule. In fact, I feel relieved that both flights didn't fall victim to the extreme weather – there wasn't any turbulence and that, in my book, is a result.

For more on a caff visited briefly while in Milano, click here.