This morning I went to get a new transit pass. The clerk was pretty surly today. At first she said she couldn’t help me without my receipt, then proceeded to ‘do things’ after I said I didn’t have it and what could I do? When I thanked her, her curt response was BYE. All right, then.
I looked at stalls to find stuffing for my next dolls. No luck. But on the way there, and after feeling somewhat down after my GTT experience, I had a good morning smile. In front of me, near the market, were two elderly men both pulling along shopping carts. Not in London, nor in Toronto have I seen men pulling carts for some serious shopping. I hope the reason here wasn’t a sad one.
I didn’t expect to discover as much as I did today. And there seemed to be a theme. I heard about a restaurant and checked it out online. As often happens, looking at the restaurant meant looking at the area it was in. This one was at an area called Docks Dora. Krish said it sounded familiar and he wondered if it was a factory development he had seen on his last trip.
We took a bus and my pass wouldn’t BIP! Ugh. Off I go into the bus station where we need to step down and they confirm that it’s now BIPless. So that’s on my list now. On the buses and trams it may not matter too much but if I decide to take the metro I’ll be out of luck. Must get my BIP back!
We walk vaguely towards the area where Docks Dora is and discover a really nice high street area. There are little shops and cafes here and, although it’s quite traditional, I have a sense that this area will become a bit trendier with some time. It’s also residential and the flats here are middle class, clean, fairly modern. I could actually imagine living here.
Not a lot of words today but plenty of photos, I think. After some busy stuff in the morning, I thought I could manage to get out – my sore throat soothed a little with some good old British cough sweets – as long as I took it easy and could get back quickly.
Krish had discovered that an area north of it, Barriera di Milano, had a lot of street art. We knew, for instance, that the artist Millo had some large commissioned works on various walls and were determined to find as many as we could. We even have a map of where they are but thought today we might just stumble across a few and indeed we did!
First of all though, we went into the Balon district while it was empty – market day changes the whole look and your ability to really explore. There are some nice pieces of art here. We also discovered where the Baloon is anchored and takes off. Sadly, I blinked and missed it being lowered with its occupants.
After Asti, I was really reluctant to try somewhere else. Here it was Saturday morning and I had nothing planned. So…Alba? I decided yes. Yes, let’s try it. And I was trying it alone. Big choice for me.
I figured out the bus to Porta Susa and set off allowing myself over an hour to get to the station, buy the ticket and figure out the platform. So glad I did.
First I went to a machine that was for ticketless travel only. When I tried it anyway, it told me that ticketless travel wasn’t available for that route. I visited the ticket office where I was told ‘Not here. Next office on the left.’ That was a long walk away and the time was ticking. I bargained with myself on how late I would leave it before giving up my journey (trains run every hour). At the next office the number system to stand in line was on the blink. I stood in line before seeing others had numbers. Where from? From another number machine out of my sight.
I started towards the working machine and then saw another ticket machine – no harm to try it, time continued to tick. This one could issue a ticket but only by card. I relented and used my UK card. And now I have ten minutes to spare. Off to the platform.
It’s not a bad journey to Alba. It takes about an hour and twenty minutes and on a three decker (GO-type, for those in Toronto) train. The scenery is pleasant and in parts quite lovely. It reminds me somewhat of the journey north to Edinburgh, with its rivers and small spired towns. I’m serenaded by hip hop music issuing from the seats behind me. And I’m amused – the teenagers are trying unsuccessfully to sing along with the English lyrics but do a better, lusty job with the Italian ones. Silence is easier.
Today was the day I was going on my first tour – of the Costadoro Coffee Factory. I walked through the Piazza Reale grounds and arrived at the tourist info with half an hour to spare.
When no bus materialised at 9:20 I went into the office only to find out the bus was waiting somewhere else than described. What started out as a leisurely morning was now a bit of a rush!
At the bus I was introduced to my translator. Strapped in and off we go! The translator had no idea where the factory was – saying she didn’t know all the neighbourhoods of Torino (‘You know how it is when you live somewhere.’ Um, no!) However, the unknown neighbourhood was more or less my own but about a mile further east.