St. Patties Day, Milan, and swiss jail

So the weekend of St. Patrick's Day we had big plans.  We had rigged up a big system of planes, trains and automobiles to get us to Dublin for the big day and green rivers and beer and whatnot.  This all seemed great until we tried to fit others into our plans and waited too long until the plane tickets became outrageously expensive.  This needless to say was a fate too tragic to bear.  

So with our tails between our legs, Ryan and I decided to take the weekend and cruise to Milan and explore the city that we had just kinda walked through before.  We would see the Last Supper and some art and go shopping in the fashion capitol, and all sorts of other things, all the while drinking for Patty.  Sounded pretty good, so we truck off to Milan in renewed spirits and sporting our green apparel.  

We arrive at the church where the last supper is and prepare for one of the world's most well known pieces of art.  Then as we walk in to get our tickets, the woman at the counter pleasantly informs us that it is sold out for the weekend and that we would need to come back some other time having made a reservation.  BALLS.  We are crestfallen yet again.  We had missed the LAST supper.  So to pick our spirits up, we head to a bar and have a guinness or two or three.  So slightly happier, we head off to the big art museum in the area to enjoy some of what they've got.  Luckily they were open and welcomed us in with open arms.  We enjoyed meandering through the rooms of paintings and such.  Sadly, there was not as much modern art as we had thought, but it was good none the less.  

Then we had another round or two at a cafe just outside the museum and had a good time watching all the people go by in their fascinating get-ups.  Then we started off in search of the "fashion quadrilateral" where all the good shopping was hoping to laugh at some, and admire some of the designs.  It took us an inordinate amount of time to get there getting lost and sidetracked with another beer, but two triumphal arches later, we found ourselves surrounded by designer stores and throngs of glamazons.  We poked through stores and laughed and envied and all that.  In the end, I had bought a pair of shoes, and we called it a day.  

Then we needed some food, but unfortunately, we found out that nobody eats in Milan.  The once packed streets were completely vacant.  Not a soul was in sight.  The few restaraunts we found were reservation only and were booked several days in advance.  The people in them scared us as well with their insanely overpriced clothes and demeaning attitudes.  After 2 hours of unsucessful food finding, we called it quits and decided to cut our losses.  We took 3 trams on our way to the train station, and arrived to find that the next train left in an hour and a half.  The day was simply against us.  We sat in the corner as the floor waxer wheeled around the terminal.  

We boarded our train and in line with everything else, it was steaming hot in there.  Every car of the train was blistering for some unknown reason.  So the moment we sat down, we both passed out.   

We woke up in Chiasso Switzerland.

Without our passports.

This was not a good realization to awake to.  We headed down to the station thinking we could sneak through and just walk back to Italy unnoticed, but luckily, there were multiple guards there waiting for our non-existant passports.  So we got to be escorted by the Swiss police back to their office/holding cell.  We had a friend too.  On the same train had been an Iranian with no form of identification save a torn piece of paper with a photo of himself taped onto it.  He was also really drunk or on some form of drugs being unable to utter more than a few syllables in a row.  So our new Iranian friend, Ryan, and I took up residence in the Swiss holding facilities.  I explained that we were students and lived in Como, and had simply missed our stop having slept through it in what was fairly good Italian I thought.  The police seemed to think about it and talk amongst themselves, when to our surprise, we heard some yelling coming from outside.  The door flew open and a more beligerent Middle Easterner came in being pushed by the cops and joined our now blossoming party.  The police took out handcuffs and put on latex gloves, and took our two new friends out into some other rooms never to be seen by us again.  The Swiss apparently agreed with our story and walked us back over to the italian border and deposited us there.

It was now raining cats and dogs.

So Ryan and I start our, what we calculated at 8 mile hike, back to Como at 2am in the pouring rain.  We walked along highways, under overpasses, through parking lots, and thought we were lost a few times until Como came up on some of the street signs.  We followed our new guiding force back to Como arriving at our apartment at about 4 am.  What a day that had been.  And all we had wanted was some green beer.

The next day, we read in the news that a Middle Easterner that was arrested that night had been detained and was being held for causing a ruckus in the Swiss Police Station.  Apparently after we had left, he went beserk and flipped over tables and broke computers and eventually had to be physically restrained and held there for prosecution.  All in all a good St. Patty's Day.

Germania

So On the 8th and 9th of March, I set off for Germany to see what the country had to offer.  Ryan, Loren, Sarah, and I went to Dusseldorf and Cologne to see some architecture, drink some big beers, eat some bratwursts, and see a Mars Volta concert.  

So we pull into the Weeze airport which was supposedly en route to Dusseldorf, and it looked like we had landed in the middle of nowhere.  There were old army barracks and trees for as far as the eye could see.  This was only exasperated by the fact that we realized we knew approximately three words in german: Danka shen and bira.  This helped us a lot in asking where the bus to a city was .  We figured it out though and eventually a bus through the countryside brought us to a train station with no buildings in sight still.  We hop on the train and it does finally bring us back into society and we finally get to Dusseldorf and our beds.  

By the way, German hotels are amazing and we had gummi bears on our pillows instead of chocolates and the most fluffy comfortable blankets ever.  An even better surprise was the feast that we found ourselves with for breakfast.  After only bread and random buns for breakfast in Italy, we were presented with eggs, bacon, sausages, yogurt, kir, fruit, granola, a variety of cereals and juices, milk, champaigne, and just overall greatness.  This must be why we find ourselves in the country of giants.  I have never felt short before, but while walking around Germany, I felt like a dwarf in a city of Shaqs.  

So we set off with completely satisfied stomachs to see what we could see.  We headed to Cologne for a museum with a phenomenal collection of Mondrian's works.  It showed a large chunk of his life's works, which was incredible to see all together showing his progression from trees and landscapes to his signature blocks and geometrical pieces.  This museum was huge.  It just went on and on and on and on.  More art that we could handle.  One fun piece was a short story written on a strip window which made you walk through the room looking out the window to read it and it described a scene going on in the building across the way.  There was all sorts of other great works there.   So much fun to see lots of modern art after existing in such an ancient country.

After the museum, we wandered around the city to see the duomo, and other buildings.  In the piazza by the duomo, we happened upon a city wide pillow fight.  Hundreds of school children had gathered to protest something and just enjoy a good old fashion pillow fight.  Ryan even got hit in the face by a little 13 year old girl.  He then threw it back at her, but hit an old woman instead making a hilarious scene that I was glad to watch play out.  Then we walked through the large street with all the shops in the city.  We found a great Renzo Piano building that looks loosely like a big glass egg that was extended.  It was fun to see and go through.  Cool spaces, and so different being contrasted with old churches and such.

Eventually we headed by another series of trains and busses to our concert venue.  Getting there turned out to be a bit harier than I had expected.  We ended up in the industrial district with no clue if we were where we needed to be.  After wandering for a bit, we eventually found in the midst of nothing the brash chords and wild singing of The Mars Volta in an old warehouse.  The concert was incredible and reminded me what I would have thought bands in the 60s and 70s like Led Zeppelin would have been like.  The lead singer would bounce around and dance and scream just out of control.  He jumped off the speakers and even threw the drummer's symbols off the stage.  It was amazing and great and just fun to be hearing music in english and spanish in a german country while on a trip to Italy.  

Much to our dismay, the whole trip we were in constant search of bratwursts and beer steins.  We were served beer in glasses smaller than normal cokes come in and were extremely confused.  Then we thought we were saved in a small bratwurst stand and ordered up some great brats and low and behold, they were served to us on hamburger buns with a good 3-4 inches hanging out on each side.  Something is wrong with this picture.  The one redeeming thing in german food was these cones of french fries that were smothered in ketchup, mayo, fried onions, and all sorts of other stuff.  They made it worth wild.