Life and Death in Milan

The Zebra Hostel was hard to find.

I called Saori and called the hostel to find them. I had the directions I'd laboriously copied in Rome, and the address. The hostel told me I was in the right area that I described to them. It's not an easy place to get to from the train station.

The train station in Milan is an amazing piece of architecture. Built under facist dictators, the station is a blend of nationalist classicism, and art nouveau, and its fucking epic. Three mind boggling vast halls created by massive vaults, the third totally open to the outdoors as a giant portico.

I took the metro across the city, and walked for about half a mile to get to the area with the hostel...and couldn't find it. I went to an espresso bar where there was a girl on a laptop, hoping it they had free wifi so I could double check the directions. I ordered an espresso and asked the Chinese girls working there if there was wifi. No luck. Totally cold flat answer. At least I was able to use the bathroom.

I finally got in touch with the hostel and I started hunting for numbers once I verified I was in the right area. There. No sign. Or rather, a sign for some kind of children's clothing boutique. And on the sliding doors, a zebra. A small zebra. My only indication I was in the right place. Through the sliding doors, a sign:

Just Like Fun [But not Quite] was an accurate depiction. This was a place that really wanted to be that European hostel. And they really tried. Mostly deflated balloons inside. Strict secure controls on entrances. (actually a card-activated turnstile that never worked for my card). Bar inside. Signs with various notices and warnings everywhere. Invitations to leave photos on the walls and to hook up your ipod to the sound system. It was tired and sad, like a cheap dorm in a third-tier school. 

Cheap it was, one of the cheapest places I could find in Milan, actually, so it delivered on that account. They did give me a map of the area and tell me how to get around, although frankly, I wondered why considering you needed a detailed map and understanding of the subway system in order to find the damn place. Maybe all the backpackers arrive via taxi.

Anyway. I did meet two other American backpackers there, and we chatted for awhile over beers while surfing on the free wifi. One of them was a very young electrical engineer from someplace like Ohio working in Qatar and hadn't been stateside in about nine months. He was just happy to hear good ole USA English spoken from a native. The other guy had been backpacking for about two months, and was about to take a flight to Romania to meet his friend whom he'd met on his travels and who had invited him back to her homecountry. At this point of backpacking, he's not carrying anything worth stealing, but I do home he still has his kidneys.