Buon Giorno from Milano!

After a quick seven hour flight from Boston to Milan’s Malpensa airport, a laughable customs check point and a few near death experiences on the drive to the hotel, I can now add Italy to my growing list of countries I’ve had the privilege of experiencing on somebody else’s dime.

My travel buddy Abi and I passed time on the flight watching the ‘Race to Dakar‘ series until the laptop battery died. Then we watched episodes of ‘The Daily Show’ until my iPod died. By then we were twenty minutes from landing. We’d decided to make the trip to Milan a few days early, in order to do some sightseeing, and of course some Italian food eating!

Italian customs make Irish customs look strict. Last year the Irish customs agent asked, “And how long will ye be stayin’?” Before I’d even answered, he’d stamped my passport, dismissing me with a friendly wave. The smartly dressed Italian customs agent didn’t even bother to ask me anything, he didn’t even look at me for that matter. He took my passport, glanced at it for a second, and quickly handed it back. Italian customs is so casual that he didn’t even stamp the passport! Welcome to Italy!

We were met at the airport by WWE‘s European staff, and ushered to a waiting Mercedes. Our driver Fabio seemed eager to show us how fast the car could go, tromping on the accelerator with wild abandon. Glancing at the speedometer, I hoped that it was in kilometers per hour, because we were topping out at 160! Fabio, in typical Italian style talked with his hands and turned around often to make eye contact with his back seat passengers. At one point, traffic ahead suddenly came to a standstill. Fabio realized this and slammed on the brakes so hard the car shook. We missed center punching the trunk of a Citroen by millimeters.

Fabio didn’t even flinch, just asked if we were OK, then continued his discourse on how changing currencies to the Euro irritated him and his fellow countrymen.

Besides nearly killing us, Fabio also recommended some good places to see in and around Milan. We soon made our way to the Duomo, an ornate church built in the 1300’s.

The inside was as incredible as the outside. I set up my little tripod and started snapping some pictures.

It didn’t take long for a guard to come over and start hissing at me in Italian. When I shrugged the international ‘I don’t understand’ sign, he switched to English and curtly informed me I had broken the Eleventh Commandment; ‘Thou shalt not useth a tripod inside the Duomo.’ In case I didn’t get it, he scowled and repeated, “NO TRIPOD!” at me at least fifteen times. He was pissed, I was contrite, and we quickly slunk out a side exit to the Duomo.

Not even in the country for one day and already thrown out of church. I’d say we were doing pretty well!

The offensive tripod.

Italians may not have a good sense of humor, but they certainly have a sense of style, no matter what they are doing. And they almost ALL ride scooters. Scooters are EVERYWHERE, and the Italians manage to make them look COOL!

If not on scooters or in their Ferraris, many Italians tool around in these little micro cars. This is called the Smart Car ForTwo. Seriously. You can fit two people inside… and thats it. If you get hit… it would be the Death Car CoffinForTwo.

And if you can’t afford a Lamborghini, DeathCar ForTwo or scooter, there’s always the old standby, the lowly bicycle. Most women ride in high heels, most men in suits. Nobody on bicycles wears a helmet, because those ugly brain buckets just aren’t stylish enough.

Abi and I are going to Como Lake tomorrow, then my WWE sponsored vacation pretty much ends. Checking my cell phone messages, I found out that Randy – the guy that usually mixes the WWE show – is sick, and won’t be making the trip. Randy not making the trip means that I will have to step up and mix the WWE shows, which really means that I will have to actually WORK now.

Ah well… there’s still PLENTY more to see before this vacation crashes to a halt.

Author: frenchy