Milan for 12 hours...aka the Last Supper...aka NEVER again

After a tumultuous train ride to Milan, to say the least, I was there. Apparently, the train to Milan is a busy one. And finding your correct seat is a doozie, let me tell you. First, I don't speak any language that was on my train ticket. Second, google translator doesn't know any language that was on my ticket. So, balls to the wall, I found seat and sat in it. 20 minutes later, the seat owner appeared, who spoke the train ticket's native tongue. He pointed me in the direction of my seat and what did I find, a family of four fast asleep. I couldn't wake them, I would have felt terrible. So I found a nearby seat, hoping the family of four would wake up and get off a stop before mine. Nope. Faaaast asleep. And then the owner of my new seat appeared so I had to wake the family, I had no choice, the train was literally packed. So I talked to the family of four in my native tongue, kindly told them they were in my seat and then my knees went weak and I told them I would go sit in their proper seats, two cars back. Terrible. I arrive at my fake seat to find an american couple fast asleep. I picked a new seat and prayed that no one owned my new seat.

Finally, Milan and in a country that speaks a...similar language to Spanish. Done. Earlier in the week, I discovered that I needed to get tickets well in advance to see the 'Last Supper.' My flight back to Barcelona left out of Milan, the cheapest airport closest to Switzerland. My flight didn't leave until 8pm, so I figured I had time to see the #1 sight in all of Milan. I had bought a sight-seeing package that involved a ticket to the 'Last Supper.' Done.

I stopped into the tourist office, asked if they knew of any good restaurants, as it was 10:30am  and the tour wasn't until 2:30pm, so I had some time to kill. It had been raining off and on in Milan, so I figured I wouldn't battle the rain with my backpack. So I parked myself in this restaurant and sat there, reading my Lonely Planet travel book, sipping on tea and eating as many sandwiches as I could because my next meal was going to be breakfast in Barcelona the following day.

Perfect timing, it started down-pouring as soon as I got up and decided to explore the city. I wandered over to the train station, where I had to catch the train to the airport. I purchase my train ticket and headed back towards the tourist office, in plenty of time for my tour.

Luckily, on the day that I went, the tour was in both English and French, and since I'm basically fluent in French because of all my "vacations" there, I know a word or two. It was annoying as-you-know-what to hear everything in English and then in French. Do you wanna know how many people spoke French in our tour group of 40? ONE! ONE PERSON! Who happened to be from my country of España. French and Spanish are very similar, but not that similar.

Besides my new friend on the tour, it was the WORST tour I have ever been on. I highly recommend that you do NOT go to Milan. To be honest, the 'Last Supper' wasn't even that great. I know, it's a terrible thing to say, but honestly, TERRIBLE. Here are the four pictures I have from the tour...(there's more, I just don't want to have to subject you to anymore pain than you are already in).

(this USED to be the biggest church in europe...then sevilla came around)

(the ONLY souvenir I have from the last supper)

(Here's your warning... if you see this bus, RUN! )

Luckily, I was in the first group to go into the room of the 'Last Supper.' Only twenty people are allowed in the room at one time, for a maximum of fifteen minutes. For a room that was once a barn, that's right, BARN, it was harder to get into than to the White House. 

I hopped on the next train to the airport and was in Barcelona before I knew it. Whew. 

To see all of the photos, check out the Flickr album:  http://www.flickr.com/photos/chasecarrie/sets/72157623759868080/