Please don't arrest me...
Parma Travel Blog› entry 11 of 18 › view all entries
Even though I still felt really sick, there were things that we needed to get done on this day, as it was our last day in
Since I felt so bad, I knew that I wasn't up to going with Michelle on the shopping trip; so I suggested that we split up to get things done; she did her shopping, I would pick up the money at the train station, so I'd already be there to check the tickets to Milan.
Getting the money ended up being a huge hassle, but soon it was sorted and done. Then on to the police station. As I arrived outside it, I was already worn out from being sick. I stopped out there to take a break. The door to the police station was only semi-opaque, so you could see shadows thru it; or I guess I should say, the people INSIDE the station could see shadows OUTSIDE the station. Next thing I know, a female police officer pops her head out the door to investigate me; with my big laundry bag on the ground and my purse next to me resting on the hood of a car. She started to yell at me and I couldn't tell why for a moment, until I caught a few key words; it would seem that my purse was now resting on the Sergeant’s car. Perfecto.
By that time, as I pulled it off, many more police were in the doorway trying to get a glimpse of the troublemaker and asking what happened, as she repeated as many times as was needed for the entire world to understand I had put my purse on the Sergeant’s car.
Ultimately, we got thru the police report, then I caught a taxi to the laundromat. It took a couple hours to process all the laundry, and I was kept company by a very cool guy from
Finally I was able to go back to the hotel. We re-packed our bags with our now clean clothes, and headed down to dinner.
I still didn't feel very well, and I ordered the sea bass, as did Michelle.
Michelle, who is currently enrolled in Culinary School and far more brave and knowledgeable than I am about food in general, assessed the situation quickly (I had tried to keep a very neutral look on my face, but she knows me pretty well) This was a small hotel and we knew the people now; the man serving us, the man that was cooking... the last thing I wanted to do was offend them or hurt their feelings; but I really didn't want to eat that fish, either.
"I take it this wasn't what you were expecting?" Michelle quietly whispered to me in a low voice
"OK." she said. (I always love her sense of calm) "I'll talk you thru it."
She proceeded to do just that thru the whole meal; showing me how to remove the scales, avoid the most bones, etc. It still wasn't my best meal, but I was grateful to her beyond words for making sure it looked eaten enough as to not look like I didn't want it.
Then we headed to up to the room, knowing it was going to be a really long day ahead of us...