"If you will forgive me for being personal - I do not like your face, M. Ratchett"

Night Train to Milan.

I am very lucky. Betty is a wonder. Betty communications to everyone regardless of language. It is fantastic to watch people react to her friendliness. When I get lost, she is there asking and getting us back on the trail of that museum. We need information Betty finds it.  That talent was needed on trip to Milan.

It was a great adventure. We checked out of the Paris hotel about noon as required. Leaving our luggage at the hotel, we took a walk to the Luxembourg Gardens. Parisians use their parks. They walk, run, play boules, tennis and sitting. We sit and watch and discover everyone plays. We watch a gentleman practice and he is impressive. Maybe, he is a professional. At twenty feet, he can hit one ball with another consistently.

There are chairs everywhere. Runners are everywhere.

Then, what else, lunch. We stop at a restaurant we have walked by several times called "Select". We met another two ladies taking a "Rick Stevens' Tour. Again, the food is great. Betty had French onion soup and Fries (they put ketchup on the table). I have a great salad and, of course, a glass of wine.
Now, the age old problem, how early to the train. We elect to go early since we are not sure on the rail station; how to get there and if it is the right station. We have read horror stories.

Of course, we do everything right and have 3 hours to kill. No Internet (do not believe the travel guides and Rick Stevens on the Internet everywhere). So we sit guarding our luggage. Not a lot to do and my nose is running badly. I am now a frequent visitor to Starbucks for napkins. Yes, Starbuck is here and in numbers. You recognize the décor, but the menu is different, but "wow" on the pastries.

We watch the big broad as if the "rapture" depends on it. First hour and no listing for our train. We reassure each other that we are at the right station and the right "hall". Second hour, we are starting to question and plan for panic. Finally, our train is listed. Then, it appears. Next to the sleek French train, the engine looks worn and the coaches look restored and not in a good way.

Tello is a privately owned railroad which operates only this one train from Paris to Venice. Being a true democrat I have my worst fears realized - my life and well being - I am at the mercy of an Italian Capitalist.

We push forward to find Coach 95. The First car is 97. The next is 89. The Internet is full of stories of reservations not being honored etc. We find 95 next to 96. Both are at the other end of train. Betty and I have on our heavier coats on. We carry our backpacks together with luggage so we are hot and uncomfortable. The coach is clean (reasonable) but other than that the coach is the "before' in "before and after' series on HG TV. By the way, clean and reasonable did not apply to the washrooms.

The lady conductor comes by and in order to calm nerves tells us it her first day on the job. Please hand over your passports and I will give them back at Milan.

The compartment is for two and is a sleeper. Everything is out of bad movie - "I Love Lucy' where Lucy disappears into the hidden closet or the pull beds from the wall. There is a ladder to the upper berth which is about eight feet from the floor. The lower berth when pulled from the wall is about four feet still enough to damage ego and bones. The conductor tells us she will return at 10 to show us how to set up. Never shows - there goes our passports.

We did get coupons for sparkling wine and morning coffee, croissant, juice and applesauce (rewards for those survive the night). The wine is in airplane size glass. The range of people are fantastic and interesting.

About 2 AM, the train stops and it does not look like Milan. More like something out of zombie movie. And we stay for two and half hours. Betty finds out that we are at the border and something is wrong. There goes our passports again. But now, we feel reassured that the whole train suffers our fate.

Moreover, we are not unhappy that the train is late. We can check in at 2 PM and train on schedule arrives at 6 AM. The long delay is a blessing.

We arrive at @ 9 AM and are passports are returned. Getting off a train in a strange country is both exciting and terrifying. We read just before we leave the train our last instructions from Rick Stevens - Alert, pickpockets outnumber passengers. As you get off the train, they take a numbers.

Tired and unsure of language and customs, we find a great food court. Really, cool.

First lesson of the day, in Italy you order from the cashier and then give the receipt to the order filler.

Second lesson, coffee is not café with cream as in France. Italians do not have the concept of coffee with cream. To them, it is an American thing and this is Italy.

Third lesson is that there are tons of great looking biscuits, muffins and croissants and you cannot figure out what to call them so you order croissants a lot.

People are helpful and we get coffee and croissants. We sit. At 10 AM, we move to MacDonald's and to wait. Two cheeseburgers and fries later on and it is noon.

MacDonald's is everywhere in Italy (no drive thru). They are set up with a café on one side and the grill on the other. The McCafe is set up more like a café. You only order caffe and brioche. The grill side has the MacDonald standards plus sandwiches like Salime with cheese.

We are accustomed to Metro systems now and after Betty deciphers ( I have given up for now based on my track record), we arrive at the Duomo - all roads in Milan go to the Duomo.

The Hotel De La Ville is great and great location. And we are getting better, we only walked around for fifteen minutes before finding it. Again, Betty asked and this great lady stopped what she was doing and walked us to the door. I think she looked at me and said this woman needs help.

We are within 3 blocks and Cathedral Duomo.

Tomorrow - what I learned about Italy.