Sunday 19 July 2015

Day 0, Mold to Pont Saint Martin

"I'm, too sweaty for my shirt, too sweaty for my shirt, so sweaty it hurts. And I'm, too sweaty for Milan, too sweaty for Milan, New York and Japan."

O.........M.........G (note - that's not your common or garden omg), it's hot! Very hot. Very, very hot. My cunning plan to use the 4 hours I had to spare in Milan to do a tour of the San Siro football stadium went up in water vapour as soon as I stepped off the plane. I immediately went straight to plan B - do as little as possible. Except it didn't quite turn out like that, as I subsequently decided to adapt plan B to incorporate a walk through the city. Everybody I saw for the first half hour seemed to be sitting or lying, so I stood out simply by not being still, as well as by my leather boots and pack.

Now I've 'done' Milan I can confidently state that if you're not into women's clothes it's not really worth bothering with. So do I think it's worth bothering with? Ah, well that's for me to know. Oh and there's a big cathedral as well called the Duomo, and loads of people trying to sell selfie sticks. I wasn't tempted but I was inspired to take one.



Me and the Duomo.

Milan redeemed itself shortly after when I firstly found a superb little bakery / pizzeria, then an ice cream stall. So I can tick off pizza and ice cream already. Bit warm for coffee at the moment though.



Chocolate, pistachio and tiramisu ice cream. 10 seconds later it was dripping off my elbow.

After the ice cream I once again lost patience with Milan, so got the Metro across town to the bus station from where I would be whisked to the Aosta Valley, my overnight base before the walk starts tomorrow. All of the journeys today have been great. There were superb views of the Alps from the plane (and of London), and the Metro and both buses were cool and comfortable.

And now I'm in the pretty town of Pont Saint Martin in the Aosta Valley, the starting point of my walk. The mountains look enormous, because they are I suppose, but just seeing them gets the adrenaline going, as does trying to order food in a restaurant that's offering no concessions to someone who, since landing at the airport, has yet to manage saying anything other than "grazie".




Jen you'll like this: the menu handwritten in a notebook.

-- Posted from Kev's iPhone

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