Olen, Aren and I had a difficult time getting to class in Milan this morning after a long night. We had completely forgotten to pack for our trip to Germany which we were leaving for this afternoon. I should explain that we are going to a Mars Volta concert on Saturday in Cologne, Germany with two of our friends.
Luckily when we finally made it to class, maybe a little late, we decided to ask our professor how long it would take to get to the Bergamo Airport in Milan. When we heard that it was going to take over an hour to get there by bus, we did a 180 degree turn and were right back out the door we came in. So much for going to class today… Our adventure started with a subway ride to Milano Centrale, the main train station in Milan, where we found the bus that would take us to the airport. One hour later we were there, made it through security and found our way to the correct terminal. We were flying Ryan Air (Nice name, huh?) which has a first come, first serve seating policy- and being newbies we did not want to be the last ones on the plane. First come, first serve sounds like a great policy- but let me tell you, it is not. Boarding the plane was pure chaos but somehow I managed to wrestle my way into a window seat. The Bergamo airport was a fairly large airport, but for some reason the terminal connectors were not being used and we had to board on the tarmac. On our plane there was a rowdy group of German soccer fans who were hilarious. They would all bust out singing soccer cheers from one end of the plane to the other. When the stewardess was explaining the safety procedures and more specifically how the seatbelts worked, they began clinking their buckles in unison and I was tempted to join in, but they were quickly asked to be quiet. The silence did not last long. As the wheels touched the ground during landing another German soccer victory song was started- I wish all of my flights had a rowdy cheering section. Again we exited the airplane via the tarmac and found ourselves at the Weeze Airport somewhere in Germany. I think the airport was a working German Air Force base because we were surrounded by military barracks and all of the buildings were camouflage green. This doesn’t quite look like Düsseldorf! The five of us had a hard enough time navigating our way through Italy with some knowledge of Italian language, but now we were in Germany and none of us knew how to speak German. We were able to find a metro bus that would take us to the nearest train station. After a short ride, we realized that we were in the middle of nowhere! A train finally came that would take us to Düsseldorf where our hotel was located. As we emerged out of the Düsseldorf train station there was only one thought on our mind- FOOD! None of us had eaten anything all day and we were ready to enjoy some German cuisine. Not too far from the train station we found an interesting restaurant with a small crowd gathered inside. As usual we were escorted to the back of the restaurant- locals are allowed to sit in the front, but I guess we look like tourists so we are always led to the back. We sat next to a group of old men who were playing Hearts and I had guessed it was where they gathered every night to escape their nagging wives. Attempting to read a German menu was almost impossible, considering I have become used to reading about salads, pastas and pizzas, but I did not recognize a single thing. I ordered a “Jager Art Schnitzel” because I have had Schnitzel before in Los Angeles, but I was unsure what authentic German Schnitzel would be like. My “Jager Art” was served with a plate sized fillet of thinly sliced chicken that has been breaded and fried (at least I think it is chicken) and topped with a mushroom gravy. This was the first time that we have been served multiple items on one plate- everything in Italy is served in courses and single dishes. Somehow Germany was a strange reminder of home and I am not sure how that happens.
After settling our bill we found the nearest train that would take us close to our hotel- if we knew where our hotel was. Thanks to some lucky turns and a few people who spoke English we found ourselves outside of a nice hotel in a suburban area of the city. The lady at the front desk informed us that we would be staying in the “Garden House” behind the hotel. Our room was actually the largest suite in the hotel, but because there were four of us sharing the room, it worked out to be fairly inexpensive. This was the first real hotel that we have stayed at with our own private bathroom, nice mattresses and our pillows even had gummy bears on them! We were living the high life…
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