Today me and mum had to run a little errand to Milano. We used the opportunity to learn a few important lessons.
When we had brought Oscar to kindergarten, me and mum rushed back home where I was breastfed and then we mounted in our car and drove off to Milano. The scheduled time of arrival according to our GPS was 9:50, and the appointment we had was at 10:15, so we thought we had a good margin. I used the opportunity to take a little extra nap, and the trip went very well...until we hit the Milano-ring-road, and that's where we learnt the
first lesson: never assume that there is NOT going to be a terrible terrible traffic jam on the ring-road, even if you travel at an official off-rush-hour time! Mum called Mrs. Marzia from the jam to let her know we would be too late to our appointment! When we finally got off the ring road, it was time to take on the Milano-traffic. If the ring road was slow, then driving inside Milano is like trying to swim in Sahara. You get nowhere! When finally we started to approach our destination mum started to look for a parking place. Then it was time for
lesson number two: never assume that you are going to be lucky and find a parking place when you badly need it. In the end, when we had less than 1 km to our destination, mum asked the GPS to indicate for us a parking-house. A few minutes later we parked in a supermarket about 800 m from our destination. That's where we learnt the
third lesson: never assume that you are not going to get dis-orientated when you park in an underground car-park and exit from a different site than the one you entered! Mum was so sure she knew where she was going that she strolled off, with me in the kangaroo-bag towards our destination. Then she learnt the
fourth lesson: don't wait -and walk- twenty minutes before asking directions when you were supposed to have parked 5 minutes away from your destination. The gentleman that my mum finally asked for directions hummed and coughed and waved the arms and gave directions that went to the east and the west and left and right and past that square and up that tree and turn at that shop and then to the left and the right.... So mum decided that she had wandered far too far off, and it would be best just to take a taxi and then she called Marzia to let her know that we would be even more late. Then she learnt the
fifth lesson: don't think that you can call a taxi by just snapping fingers from the sidewalk, as they always do in the movies. After trying for a couple of minutes she gave up and we had to look for a taxi-queue. Once in the taxi the taxi-driver confirmed that we were far off the target, and that mum had actually parked the car very near our destination. Mum felt like a farmer in the city! Confused and tired. Finally the taxi driver dropped us off in front of Milano Court house. That's when we learnt the
sixth lesson: don't think that arriving to your destination actually means you have arrived! First of all, one has to pass the metal detector, and line up in the metal-detector queue. Then the Milano Court house is like a middle-size icelandic village, let's say like Hveragerdi! They would do well by offering bicycles at the entrance so that you can hope to reach the other end of the house in decent time. The office we needed to go to was on 6th floor. We entered on 1st floor, walked several kilometers of corridors before we arrived to the elevator and then we learnt the
seventh lesson: don't assume that the first elevator that arrives is going where you are going. The one we took was going down. First on ground floor, then on -1, and mum started to think that we might be going MUCH further down, as hell is supposed to be crowded with lawyers! Finally the elevator started, slowly, to rise again. Once we came to 6th floor we had to look for room 21. To the left rooms 23-48, to the right rooms 1-20. Then where the hell is 21? Finally we found the right room, and Marzia that had been so kind to wait for us, even if we were more than half an hour late to our appointment. Marzia had brought my mum's translation plus the original document and she had got the declaration that my mum had to fill out where she swore that she had translated the document faithfully. We queued up in front of room 21. When it was our turn, a tired old man, that probably exhaused all his smiles in 1973, told us that he could not accept documents (2x288 pages) that were not perfectly "bound"! Where can we do that? Ground floor! We ran down the stairs (no elevator thank you) and along miles and miles of corridors and found the indicated place. Closed. The guards could not tell us where the new place was, people passing couldn't. Finally we found the place and put ourselves in a long queue of lawyers, students, assistents and whatnot, that were there to fotocopy important documents. That's where we learnt
lesson number eight: use the baby in the kangaroo-bag for what she is good for. A smile, a little cry and many:
o che bella and we were miraculously the first ones in the queue. Yes they could bind our document...but not before the next day! Again mum and Marzia used me as a weapon and the lady promised to do it as soon as possible. When time passed and the lady just bissied herself with fotocopying all those documents, I was used once more, a little smile a little cry and the lady started preparing our documents. When thet were ready we rushed back all the corridors and hallways and motorways and narrow allays, jo-jo-ed a little with the elevator and once again we queued in front of room 21. The guy with the exhausted-smile accepted the documents (after veryifying that there were actually 25 lines per page...for a moment we thought he would count them on each and every one of the 288 pages). My mum signed the declaration (had to be done in front of that guy)..she was actually a bit disappointed, for she did not have to repeat the words aloud as well (as was written in the instructions)...she thought they would bring the bible and all, but no, just you sign here signora! Then it was time for the
ninth lesson: don't think that it is all finished with the signature. Mum and Marzia had to impress with a stamp each and every page of the translation, and every
marca da bollo (on every 4 pages). The next ten minutes it sounded as if an african tribe that was praying for rain had entered the court house...bomm bomm bomm bomm bomm (about 300 times...you get the picture!). And it's not finished yet. Mum had sworn that she had translated the document faithfully. Now this had to be legalized! Not in room 21 on 6th floor. NO, far to simple that way. Room 447 on 4th floor. Again we rushed down the stairs. But if you think that it is simple to find room 447 on 4th floor then try this_ When we had walked one floor down from 6th floor we arrived to 4/5 floor. Now WHAT does that mean? And as to make things more complicated we found a sign that said rooms 448-456 to the left, 418-445 to the right. Where does that leave room 447? I guess this is a kind of an intelligence test they do for the translators. WOuldn't it be better just to give them a treasure map with an X and then they can enjoy an orientation game as well! In the end we had to walk several more corridors, run down
half a stair (that explains the 4/5 floor) and found a tired A4 sheet on a wall that indicated room 447. We half thought they didnt' want to be found by anyone (the tired look of the room and of the people in it let us think that maybe they hadn't found the way out for many many years). In room 447 it took some time to find out how things had to be done for Iceland (was there an agreement between the nations or not!) and then we were told that the legalization would be ready in 3 days! Please, can't you do it now, cried mum and Marzia! Then the tired lost people asked how we could think that arriving there 10 mintues before closing time could give us the possibility to have an exception to that good-old- 3 days rule (3 days is probaly the time it takes to forget the way to room 447 so you have to start all over again). Then it was once again time for me to step in...oh, but we have come all the way from Bergamo with a little baby (that is also getting hungry..bohooo) and can we not rush things a little bit. And as by a miracle we got the necessary signatures from the right person in less than 5 minutes. Why on earth does it have to take 3 days then? As we walked off we saw a lady that had brought documents to legalize for kazakstan, it had come up only the day before that she had to leave for kazakstan next sunday for some emergency (why else would you go there at this time of year), and she had to have some travel documts legalized. She was being told that she could TRY to come get the documents on friday, but they could not guarantee it. I guess these people just LIKE playing important or something.
Well, but OUR mission was done and just seconds before all the court-house workers were off for a long lunch. We said goodbye to Marzia and walked off to our car. Mum had asked the taxi-driver for directions before, and she surprised herself by remembering them despite her severe breastfeeding-fog. Luckily the supermarket was not closed during the siesta (as happens in italy and mum feared terribly) and soon we were off again in our car. That's where we got the
tenth and last lesson of that day: don't get tempted to follow street signs, rather than the GPS, to exit a city. Instead of just going back via forlanini that heads straight to the ring-road, mum decided to follow some signs that led her all through the eastern part of Milano and towards the northern ring road (rather than the eastern part). Just before 2 o'clock we parked outside IKEA and finally I got to have my warm and wonderful milk. Then we stocked up with some IKEA-meat balls and IKEA-ginger-snaps and bought a couple of things we needed for the house, and then we finally drove back home, just in time to pick Oscar up again from kindergarten.