We returned to Milan 2 days later as bonafide maniacs - intent on trackingthose daughters of whores down. However improbable it was.
After a steadying glass of red in the hotel, we headed back to the statzione in the darkness of late evening. We searched round a couple of streets looking for the vendors where we had met them and passed a gang of around 8 people outside an internet café. My heart skipped ten beats as I turned round for a proper look …… Matt - it’s them’. Matt turned and unbelievably, we found ourselves stood directly in front within touching distance. God, they were young and there was fear etched on the little plump one’s face. The taller smelly one (as Matt had remembered) seemed to be contemplating whether to have chips or a kebab, she had not a care in the world.
They retorted that they didn’t have the laptops when we demanded them back. ‘We’re not f*** stupid. We want them back’. (Really we’re not F*** stupid, honest). The rest of the gang - who worryingly were also within touching distance of us looked on. The girls bolted and we set off in pursuit across to the statzione. As we caught them they cleverly split, one going into the statzionne itself and the other turning completely, heading back down the street.
They problem was we couldn’t bring ourselves to touch them to attempt a restraint, they were after all just teenage girls. We followed the young plump one because she was slower on her feet. I noticed that we in turn were being followed by the gang the girls had been standing with. They were perilously close and there was some big looking lads. We were in danger of both being clobbered. So I made a sensible decision to run across the road out of harm’s way so they couldn’t strike out at us both. You see, this action meant they could only clobber Matt. ‘Matt’, I shouted. ‘There’s five of the F**** behind you. Watch Out!’ I added considerately.
Someone had to help us surely. 'Carabinieri, excusi, carabinieri!'. I found myself running across some tram tracks shouting at two respectable looking people. An older guy close to pensionable age ran towards Matt and flashed a badge at the girl. Thank F***. The gang moved back and the girl was shouting frantically at this old fellow who we can only assume was a civilian policeman. To our disbelief the fellow allowed the girl to walk off after a few minutes, shrugging his soldiers as we lambasted him. Was it that unlikely this little girl had actually robbed these two big Englishmen?
We set off in pursuit again and a street on, Matt stood to prevent the girl from walking further. I ran in to a hotel to call the police. The receptionist was disinterested and fobbed me off, saying she couldn’t understand me. An American guest finally came to my rescue and angrily told them that they knew exactly what I was saying. She finally rang the police but Matt and the girls had already disappeared off in to the night.
After an arduous task of trying to explain to the two carabinieri what had happened, I found myself in the backseat of a police car touring the murky Milan streets, looking for my good friend. ‘Quick back there’ The police car reversed back up the street. ‘Ah, No, No, Sorry. Sorry’. It was obviously going to be a fruitless search and the police soon got bored and dropped me off - so I could get a taxi back across town to my hotel!
My thoughts were with Matt. I had left him. Was he lying, bloodied and battered in a Milanese backstreet or worse? And more importantly, had he got those F*** laptops back. The hours ebbed away but the receptionist steadfastly refused to ring the police to report him missing. I had consumed the equivalent of a full bottle of red when and was slightly incoherent when he finally returned. He was alive but empty handed (he later told me that I had been unable todisguise my disappointment that he was indeed laptop-free).
It turned out Matt had had an adventure all of his own. The girl had screamed she was being attacked, some man had come down to look, she ran off and jumped on to a tram. Matt followed and just made the jump on to the tram as it pulled away and chased her up a packed carriage. They got off after a couple of stops, the girl finally buckled and matt accompanied her to an internet café where she rang for someone to bring the laptops. Matt asked the staff in the café to help but they ignored him, the girl set off again and Matt was forced to peruse her down a couple of backstreets. A guy appeared and said he would go get the laptops from a flat for 50 Euros. What? Surely Matt you didn‘t pay the thief to give you back your computer? No, no, no!! . The guy gleefully accepted the 50 Euros before telling Matt he hadn’t pinched them and it was nothing to do with him. Matt punched him in the face and retrieved his funds. Another guy appeared, and a big one according to Matt. Matt retreated and the girl seized her chance to make her final escape, disappearing off in the direction behind the big bloke from which Matt was fleeing.
Back upstairs in the hotel I lamented how stupid we had been to have miraculously found the girls and let them slip away. ‘We’re stupid. F**** stupid. Idiots!! Utter w**** we are’. ‘Matt, I know your way of dealing with something is to just try to shut it out and go to sleep, but me - Ineed to dissect it and persecute ourselves’. Even in all the turmoil I recognised our different mindsets, ignored his wishes and ploughed on, ‘honestly, we’re 30 this year f***** idiots’....
My incessant chastising of us through the early hours had left Matt bewildered, tired and beaten. My insistence to find the internet café he had been to the night before, call the police, check the CCTV and then goto the Milanese press pushed him too far. ‘RAARGGHH. I can’t deal with this bloody crusade any longer!’ he cried. The silence was only punctuated an eternity later when he had to borrow 5 Euros for a coffee.
To while away the hours until the return flight we did make it to the internet café and then to the police station. Unfortunately the ‘CCTV wasnot working last night’. We finally made it home later that day, disillusioned at our own stupidity and filled with recoiling anger at the seemingly endless injustice we had initiated.
On reflection now - the events in Milan were helpful. It taught us the hard way of the importance of: PLANNING / CONTINGENCIES / BACK-UPS and BACK-UPS. It also made us stake stock, improve the site, deliver a much better body of work and launch a year to the exact weekend later. So hopefully for anyone starting a business, there maybe something to draw on to avoid a near catastrophe - even if it is only not to go nightclubbing with your suitcase, laptop, passport and digital cameras...
After a steadying glass of red in the hotel, we headed back to the statzione in the darkness of late evening. We searched round a couple of streets looking for the vendors where we had met them and passed a gang of around 8 people outside an internet café. My heart skipped ten beats as I turned round for a proper look …… Matt - it’s them’. Matt turned and unbelievably, we found ourselves stood directly in front within touching distance. God, they were young and there was fear etched on the little plump one’s face. The taller smelly one (as Matt had remembered) seemed to be contemplating whether to have chips or a kebab, she had not a care in the world.They retorted that they didn’t have the laptops when we demanded them back. ‘We’re not f*** stupid. We want them back’. (Really we’re not F*** stupid, honest). The rest of the gang - who worryingly were also within touching distance of us looked on. The girls bolted and we set off in pursuit across to the statzione. As we caught them they cleverly split, one going into the statzionne itself and the other turning completely, heading back down the street.
They problem was we couldn’t bring ourselves to touch them to attempt a restraint, they were after all just teenage girls. We followed the young plump one because she was slower on her feet. I noticed that we in turn were being followed by the gang the girls had been standing with. They were perilously close and there was some big looking lads. We were in danger of both being clobbered. So I made a sensible decision to run across the road out of harm’s way so they couldn’t strike out at us both. You see, this action meant they could only clobber Matt. ‘Matt’, I shouted. ‘There’s five of the F**** behind you. Watch Out!’ I added considerately.Someone had to help us surely. 'Carabinieri, excusi, carabinieri!'. I found myself running across some tram tracks shouting at two respectable looking people. An older guy close to pensionable age ran towards Matt and flashed a badge at the girl. Thank F***. The gang moved back and the girl was shouting frantically at this old fellow who we can only assume was a civilian policeman. To our disbelief the fellow allowed the girl to walk off after a few minutes, shrugging his soldiers as we lambasted him. Was it that unlikely this little girl had actually robbed these two big Englishmen?
We set off in pursuit again and a street on, Matt stood to prevent the girl from walking further. I ran in to a hotel to call the police. The receptionist was disinterested and fobbed me off, saying she couldn’t understand me. An American guest finally came to my rescue and angrily told them that they knew exactly what I was saying. She finally rang the police but Matt and the girls had already disappeared off in to the night.
After an arduous task of trying to explain to the two carabinieri what had happened, I found myself in the backseat of a police car touring the murky Milan streets, looking for my good friend. ‘Quick back there’ The police car reversed back up the street. ‘Ah, No, No, Sorry. Sorry’. It was obviously going to be a fruitless search and the police soon got bored and dropped me off - so I could get a taxi back across town to my hotel!My thoughts were with Matt. I had left him. Was he lying, bloodied and battered in a Milanese backstreet or worse? And more importantly, had he got those F*** laptops back. The hours ebbed away but the receptionist steadfastly refused to ring the police to report him missing. I had consumed the equivalent of a full bottle of red when and was slightly incoherent when he finally returned. He was alive but empty handed (he later told me that I had been unable todisguise my disappointment that he was indeed laptop-free).
It turned out Matt had had an adventure all of his own. The girl had screamed she was being attacked, some man had come down to look, she ran off and jumped on to a tram. Matt followed and just made the jump on to the tram as it pulled away and chased her up a packed carriage. They got off after a couple of stops, the girl finally buckled and matt accompanied her to an internet café where she rang for someone to bring the laptops. Matt asked the staff in the café to help but they ignored him, the girl set off again and Matt was forced to peruse her down a couple of backstreets. A guy appeared and said he would go get the laptops from a flat for 50 Euros. What? Surely Matt you didn‘t pay the thief to give you back your computer? No, no, no!! . The guy gleefully accepted the 50 Euros before telling Matt he hadn’t pinched them and it was nothing to do with him. Matt punched him in the face and retrieved his funds. Another guy appeared, and a big one according to Matt. Matt retreated and the girl seized her chance to make her final escape, disappearing off in the direction behind the big bloke from which Matt was fleeing.Back upstairs in the hotel I lamented how stupid we had been to have miraculously found the girls and let them slip away. ‘We’re stupid. F**** stupid. Idiots!! Utter w**** we are’. ‘Matt, I know your way of dealing with something is to just try to shut it out and go to sleep, but me - Ineed to dissect it and persecute ourselves’. Even in all the turmoil I recognised our different mindsets, ignored his wishes and ploughed on, ‘honestly, we’re 30 this year f***** idiots’....My incessant chastising of us through the early hours had left Matt bewildered, tired and beaten. My insistence to find the internet café he had been to the night before, call the police, check the CCTV and then goto the Milanese press pushed him too far. ‘RAARGGHH. I can’t deal with this bloody crusade any longer!’ he cried. The silence was only punctuated an eternity later when he had to borrow 5 Euros for a coffee.
To while away the hours until the return flight we did make it to the internet café and then to the police station. Unfortunately the ‘CCTV wasnot working last night’. We finally made it home later that day, disillusioned at our own stupidity and filled with recoiling anger at the seemingly endless injustice we had initiated.
On reflection now - the events in Milan were helpful. It taught us the hard way of the importance of: PLANNING / CONTINGENCIES / BACK-UPS and BACK-UPS. It also made us stake stock, improve the site, deliver a much better body of work and launch a year to the exact weekend later. So hopefully for anyone starting a business, there maybe something to draw on to avoid a near catastrophe - even if it is only not to go nightclubbing with your suitcase, laptop, passport and digital cameras...
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