Backpacking through Europe in 1994

Day 79 • November 24, 1994
Milan, Italy

After the long stretch of solo travel and the intensity of the previous weeks, arriving in Milan on November 24 felt like a much-needed shift. I was finally back in the company of someone I already knew and trusted — Julie, my sister Tracy’s college roommate. We had met a few times before, and I had always liked her. When I first started planning this trip, I knew I wanted to end it by visiting both Julie in Italy and Jeff in Spain. Those were the two people I was certain I would see no matter what.

Julie met me at the train station that morning, and from the moment I saw her, I felt a sense of relief. After weeks of constantly meeting new people and navigating language barriers, it was incredibly comforting to be around an American again — someone who spoke my language, understood my references, and didn’t need any explanations.

We spent the day exploring Milan. We visited the massive Duomo and walked around the historic Castle Sforzesco. Later that evening, Julie made us an American-style meal — hamburgers and even my mom’s beer-battered onion rings! She fell in love with them after my Mom made them for her and Tracy one time, and she requested the recipe. It was simple, but it felt like a small taste of home.

Even though I was thousands of miles away, it was Thanksgiving back in the States. While I missed being with my friends at the Lions game like we had done the previous two years, I also felt genuinely grateful. I was in Italy, living out a dream I had carried for a long time. And for the first time in weeks, I felt like I could finally relax a little.

Hanging out with Julie, my sister Tracy’s college roommate from Texas Christian University who was studying in Milan.

My Photographs from today Milan, Italy

Arrival in Milan

Woke up in the train car after sleeping off the Hofbräuhaus chaos and pulled back the curtain to this foggy view rolling into Milan. I was in Italy. After everything that had happened the day before, it felt like the trip had just taken a whole new turn.

Behind the Scenes

As the train approached the station, I saw this scene out the window.

I don’t know why, but this looked very Italian to me — the laundry hanging out the windows. Rows of apartments stacked tight, old brick next to newer concrete, sheets and shirts drying in the open air. Nothing staged, nothing special, just ordinary Milan life hanging out for anyone to see.

The Duomo

The first place Julie wanted to show me was the Duomo.

Milan’s great cathedral, one of the largest Gothic churches in the world, its façade a forest of spires, statues, and carved stone that took nearly six centuries to complete.

Getting Ready for Thanksgiving in Milan

Next, Julie and I went to a local butcher shop to get a turkey for Thanksgiving. Standing in a small Italian shop on a holiday that belonged somewhere else, we picked out the bird that would be our meal.

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The Butcher

The butcher was friendly and said he was familiar with this holiday. He told us he always kept a few turkeys set aside for the Americans living in the city

The Duomo's Scale

That evening I stood in front of the cathedral and photographed the people at its base so the sculptures would have some scale. The figures were life-size and bigger than life-size, towering over everyone below.

Castello Sforzesco

Castello Sforzesco is the great fortress in the heart of Milan, built in the 1400s by the Sforza dukes and later turned into a complex of museums. Fog and streetlight turned its massive round tower into something almost unreal that night, rising out of the mist.

DAY 79 / 11-24-94
Milan, Italy

My train arrived on schedule at 8:30 [am], and Julie was there waiting for me. I planned my trip this way, that is, to finish with Italy and Spain last, because if for some reason something went wrong or I ran out of money or had to go home early for some reason, I knew I would see Julie and Jeff again. (And I have seen them both recently. Julie in August.)

And I’m glad I did it this way too. Because starting yesterday, I’m being surrounded by more & more Americans, both other tourists & friends. And it is so fucking nice to hear American cliché’s and phrases again. “Oh my gawd”, “No waay”, & “No shit Sherlock” are ones that come to mind immediately.

Julie had class, so we went straight from the station there. It was awesome, she had metro tickets for me, she gave me money for a Coke, & had a book “The Hunt for Red October” for me to read. That was the best, since the only things I’ve been reading in English have been tourist guides & maps.

Important safety tip for Italy: Don’t put your feet up on chairs. And never, NEVER do it with your shoes off. I was doing both, right outside Julie’s classroom, waiting for her to finish, when I was severely scolded by an administrator.

After class we went back to Julie’s place where I ate pasta & bathed for the first time in three days. It’s amazing what a warm meal & shower will do for a person.

Next we took my stuff to a friend of hers named Evan where I’ll be sleeping. Then we took off to see the Duomo & the Castle Sforzesco. The castle was closed, but that’s ok, I saw it with my family three years ago [when we visited my sister Tracy during her Rotary exchange student year in Belgium and took our own trip to Milan]. But the Duomo, that was magnificent. It houses all of these religious paintings (HUGE religious paintings) that are hundreds of years old, and the building itself dates from the 1300’s.

When we got home I took a much needed nap, then Evan came over & we had hamburgers and Mom’s beer-battered onion rings (Julie had the recipe). At midnight, Evan & I left for his home.

Today was Thanksgiving, and although I was a little sad I wasn’t back home in Detroit with Skratch & Curt*, I felt extremely Thankful that I was in ITALY, fulfilling my dream.

And I realize now, more than ever, how much I really have to be thankful for, and how lucky, how very very fortunate I am.

* The previous two years, 1992 & 1993, the Dome Crew had made a 15 hour road trip from Kearney, Nebraska, to Detroit, Michigan, where Skratch’s parent’s lived, for the express purpose of attending the NFL Detroit Lions Thanksgiving Day game. We witnessed many amazing things on those trips, and at the top was seeing legendary broadcasters John Madden & Pat Summerall, and the great running back Barry Sanders.

Our Christmas Card from Me, Kyle and Tim (Skratch) in 1993. This picture was taken at the Detroit, Michigan, Silverdome on Thanksgiving, 1993.

Doug, Tim’s Dad Igor, and Tim (Skratch) at his parent’s house, Thanksgiving 1992.

Looking Back

This was a strange and emotional Thanksgiving.

I was thousands of miles from home, sitting in Julie’s apartment in Milan, eating hamburgers and my mom’s beer-battered onion rings. On one hand, it felt comforting to be around an American again — someone who spoke my language and understood my references without explanation. After weeks of constantly adapting to new people and new cultures, being with Julie felt like a small piece of home.

But on the other hand, I missed my friends badly.

For the past two years, the Dome Crew had made the long road trip to Detroit for the Lions’ Thanksgiving Day game. Those trips had become a tradition — loud, fun, and full of memories. Sitting in Julie’s apartment that night, I knew my friends were probably getting ready to head to the Silverdome again, and I wasn’t going to be there with them. It was the first Thanksgiving I had spent away from that group since we all became close, and it hit harder than I expected.

At the same time, I felt genuinely grateful. I was in Italy, living out something I had dreamed about for years. I was healthy, I was safe, and I was still on this adventure. Even though I was missing my friends and our tradition, I knew I was exactly where I was supposed to be.

Looking at those old photos now — the ones of me with Skratch, Kyle, Doug, and the rest of the crew at the Silverdome — I can still feel how much those Thanksgiving trips meant to us. They were loud, ridiculous, and full of love. And even though I wasn’t with them that year, I carried them with me.

That Thanksgiving in Milan reminded me that no matter how far I traveled, the people I loved back home were still a big part of why I was doing this in the first place.

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