My impromptu 2 1/2 month trip to Milan, Italy....and everywhere in between....with my boyfriend Shane :)

Monday, January 11, 2010

Shopping trip from that place below

So today in the midst of trying to study, and knowing that we needed to really go grocery shopping SOMEWHERE in this city, I decided to venture out on my own across town to an SMA store (supermarket here) to buy that food! To do so, I had to take a metro. I planned my route, gathered up my little rolling suitcase, Shane's travel backpack, our old shopping bags (you have to pay for your bags here), my passport, translation book, metro map, and money. I headed to Geribaldi train station, the closest one to us, where I could hop on the blue line and get to where I needed to be. Once there I couldn't figure out why it only mentioned the green and red lines. I should have paid more attention when Shane and I went out and about instead of just following him! Finally I realized that the blue line was the train, basically a metro but a completely different system. Not to worry, since it was just a few steps in the opposite direction. I bought a 1 Euro ticket, which is good for about 70 minutes. Hopefully I could get across town, shop, and get back into the station before my time ran out.

I made sure I was getting on the right train and made it on just as it pulled in. Thankfully I was going the right direction! I got off at my stop without a hitch, and realized that I was going to the store that was right across from hotel Rossovino where we had stayed the first few days we were here. Well that made it better, at least I didn't need to look at my map to know how to get there. Once there, I set out on my adventure: shopping in a foreign language. I despaired for a while until I remember that I HAD packed the translation book. Unfortunately the electronic translator Lydia and I used while in Poland has dead batteries. It would be a lot more handy.

Pretty soon my little rolling cart was full, and I still had tons of things to get. Some things I just couldn't find, or were too expensive to get in the first place. I wish they'd make some cheap tortilla chips. I really want Mexican. And rice. All they seem to have here is that round rice...gross. I did get potatoes though, which tided Lydia and I over for many meals in Poland.

I tried to find good cheese, but I think I'm pretty picky about cheese. The only kind I knew I would like is mozzarella, but here they sell it in little balls floating in water. Gross again. I'll wait till I absolutely need it.

Once I had decided I had enough food to justify my trip, I went for the part I dreaded...checkout. Normally I wouldn't care, but I was by myself and I had so much food to pack into my bags and I have a thing about keeping people waiting behind me. So I decided to do self checkout. Simple right? Wrong! Thankfully the machine had an English option, which shouted out each item's price to me after scanning it. It made me feel a bit self-conscious. "Over here! I'm the American and yes my machine is speaking English! Look at my huge cart of food and my open suitcases on the floor ready to load up!"

After the first full bag that I put in my suitcase, the machine began screaming at me to put it back on the scales. "AN ITEM HAS BEEN REMOVED!!! PLEASE PLACE THE ITEM IN THE BAGGING AREA OR CLICK ON REMOVE ITEM!" At this point the cashier standing at her little booth just to the left of me walked over blabbing in Italian and put my bag back up on the scales, shaking her head and obviously telling me I couldn't put the bag in my suitcase. Is she afraid I'm stealing it all or is she just telling me what the machine is making me do? Either way, it was awful hard getting all my groceries to reside in that tiny space meant only for two small bags at a time.

At one point in time my potato bag wouldn't scan, even though it had a barcode. When I looked to her for help, she reached over and pushed the "key in item barcode" button, which made me feel stupid because I KNEW that, I was just hoping she could get it to scan without me having to do that. When my bags were threatening to fall off the scale to the point that the scale didn't recognize them and began screaming at me again, the woman walked back over and stacked my stuff on top of each other, then pointed to the sign above my checkout lane that said in Italian, "Max number of items: 15." Well. I don't speak Italian. The sad thing is that I really didn't have to; it was obvious that's what it meant. I just didn't see it.

When all my food was stacked in a tower on the scales, the machine asked me how many bags I had. I didn't WANT bags, that's why I brought my suitcases!! Besides, I had 4 bags and the machine only went up to 3! As I was pondering what to do, the woman came back over and pushed a button. I didn't see which one it was, but I turned to her and protested that I didn't want any bags, I had brought my own! She nodded at that and proceeded to help me pay with my credit card. I didn't need her help, I had done this a thousand times on my own. But I guess by now to her I was just the dumb blonde American who couldn't do things for herself. She handed me the receipt, which I don't even remember where I put so I have no clue how much it even cost. I pushed my stuff to the side of the store and loaded it all up. By this time I was sweating profusely in my layers of warm clothing.

As I finished, the security guard started meandering my way, looking at me, and I put on my most irritated This-stupid-store-has-put-me-through-hell-and-it's-so-much-better-in-America look and walked right on past him, making sure to not make eye contact.

I made it back to the metro to discover that my ticket had, of course, expired. Thankfully every once in a while they have the gates open and you don't have to slide your ticket....however, they often have officials at the other end of your ride checking to make sure you actually validated them. Well, I had validated it, and I hoped that that's all they would check, rather than the time. I made it back on the correct train without any problems, and thankfully there was no one waiting to check my ticket once I got off. I had to walk around a bit trying to find the right exit to my street, but it wasn't that bad, and I made it back home safe and sound. Hopefully now I can cook a nice different meal for Shane tonight other than spaghetti.

Lesson learned: I will never go on a huge shopping trip again without Shane there to help me!

Where's the FOOD??!


Sunday
Yesterday morning Shane, Ryan and I moved Ryan over to the other housing across town. Of course our internet hadn’t been working that morning, as usual, so Shane and I couldn’t check his email to see whether the woman he’d emailed about switching places had responded. We checked it when we got to Ryan’s place, and sure enough, she hadn’t. Figures. We went up and saw the rooms this time. They’re nice. Small but clean, modern, and private. The only downfall is that the showers are the kind where there’s no shower lip, just a drain in the floor, so water tends to run everywhere. The kitchen has much to be desired, if you can even call it a kitchen. I have a feeling I’d grow to hate that aspect of the place, not really being able to cook and all. And it would also be a pain to have to go downstairs every time I wanted to check my email. It sure is nice being able to sit in bed to do it here, when it’s working that is. So we chalked up the pros of not moving and sort of resigned ourselves to the fact that we’d probably be staying where we’re at, especially after the guy at the front desk told us we’d need to speak to the other woman; he couldn’t check us in.

We left Ryan to his unpacking and explored the shops near the Duomo for a bit. They were all too expensive for us, of course. Such as 300 Euro for some ugly, simple platform dress shoes. Designer, I’m sure, but still. I bet even their slippers are at least 100 Euro. So far I think the street markets are going to be my best bet if I ever truly want to buy anything here.

Shane and I went home, cooked some spaghetti, and finally unpacked. It’s a lot more homey when you’re unpacked, I discovered. Although studying is still going to be slightly depressing, what with the lack of sun or light in the place. Self-discipline Ashelle, self-discipline.

We tried to go food shopping at a little place we’d seen down the street, but whaddya know, Italians don’t like to work very much and therefore have “siesta” every afternoon. Shops usually all close at noon until the evening, when some open up again. So if you want to get anything done, you’d better get your butt out of bed in the morning. That’ll be good for me too I suppose. So that being the case this time, we went back to our apartment where the internet had decided to work again finally. We spent the rest of the afternoon unpacking, cleaning, eating, and bumming. We haven’t even gone to see the Duomo yet. Shane hasn’t been feeling well lately, due to the cold I think, and I haven’t felt much better. It’s a good excuse to stay inside the warmth and be lazy while we still can.

I’m REALLY craving American food. I’m tired of pizza and pasta already—not that it was ever my favorite in the first place. But as of yet we haven’t even found a decent cheap grocery store to buy all the basic things we need, much less be able to have ingredients to cook American dishes. I mean, we haven’t yet found butter! What grocery store doesn’t have butter?! Yesterday I had that feeling of unquenched hunger, even though we’d just eaten spaghetti a couple hours previously. Since we had spaghetti aplenty, I made a ton more to ensure that I got full. I did. And now I’m tired of spaghetti. Actually I could still eat it but I’m craving the kind of sauce my family usually makes: Ragu with pinto beans and TVP in it (TVP is a vegetarian beef substitute).

We went to bed early, so Shane could get up in time for class without being exhausted, and so I could be on his schedule, so he says. Wonderful. But I guess I need it, and it’s really not that bad.


Today (Monday)
Today I was unhappily awakened by Shane turning on his light to get ready, and I couldn’t believe it was already time to wake up—I had been dreaming so well! This was the day that my rigorous studying schedule should start, and while I had been ready for it a couple days ago, I wasn’t ready for it now! I stayed tucked in my bed until Shane left for school, all spiffy in his suit. Since I couldn’t sleep, the internet was once again not working, and I knew I really should get a head start on the day, I decided to take our shopping list down to the grocery store again to get those stupid groceries we can’t ever seem to get.

My walk to the store was cold, but not terrible. When I got there they weren’t open yet, but I only had to wait a couple minutes. I rushed in the second they opened it and started on my shopping spree. I started out with trash bags, since I was in the household section. No trash bags….was I blind? I decided to venture around the store to see if maybe they just weren’t beside the brooms and dust pans. As I walked around the store, I noticed something peculiar—it wasn’t a grocery store at all, but merely a convenience store with household items and beauty products. WHAT!? Why can’t we find a grocery store??! I made several trips around the store, feeling stupid because I was dragging a huge cart and carrying a huge backpack, ready to stuff them to the brim with FOOD. Not STUFF. Finally I found the trash bags….right beside the brooms and dust pans. I got two of them and looked around the store for more things we might need to fill my cart with. Of course there was nothing. I went to the checkout counter and handed her my credit card, after which she proceeded to ask me for my documents. Documents? At a grocery store? I suppose it does take the place of a driver’s license, but still! Shane never had to show his passport at other grocery stores we’ve been at, at least I don’t think. Thankfully they let me by. It was only 2,20 Euro worth anyways.
I came home with trash bags and no food to fill the empty fridge. Oh it’s not like I’ll starve today. We’ve got bread and jelly and leftover spaghetti and crackers. But I’d hoped to have a different meal than spaghetti on the table when Shane got home. Even worse, this means I have nothing better to do than…study. It might be easier if the guy next door would quit singing to his kid all the time. Wish me luck.

Obviously, since I’m posting this we now have internet. Woohoo!!