Medal Moments
- Natalie Penry
- 3 hours ago
- 13 min read
So, I lied. Again. And now I have practically an entire semester's worth of stories to share... Hopefully, once I do get around to writing about all of my adventures over the last few months, you'll understand why blog writing fell to the wayside. For example, today's post will journey all the way back to mid-February...
Let's set the scene. We're a few weeks into second semester. My days are spent reading, writing, re-reading, re-writing. But wait! Something glimmers in the distance! It's Reading Week, Edinburgh's attempt at a Spring Break!
Reading Week occurs once a semester, ideally as a week without lectures or seminars in which students can catch up/get ahead on their assigned readings. Unfortunately, due to the nature of my workshop programme, I actually did not have the week off, but I did have a day off from my elective class. You take the wins where you can, I suppose.
Anyway, walking home from trivia one night, my friend Julianne offhandedly mentioned that Reading Week fell during the Winter Olympics. Now Julianne tragically had plans to be in sunny, sunny Madrid for the week...but she planted the seed for me...
...and luckily Elle jumped on board when I texted her in the middle of the night saying we should book some flights! Ryanair runs a route from Edinburgh to Milan Bergamo on Wednesdays & Saturdays, and it just so happened the Women's Hockey Medal Matches were scheduled for Thursday. With no idea of who would be playing, we booked tickets for the Bronze Medal Match twenty minutes before I left for Copenhagen, one day before the Olympics officially started.
Our trip did not have the most auspicious start. Genuinely, who else in the world would manage to cut their hand on the seat and then get a nosebleed in the Ryanair bathroom mid-flight? Only me.
And if you thought that was the worst of it, well. How many people can say they got locked out of their ensuite bathroom at midnight? It's humbling to walk down to the front desk at midnight, in your pajamas, explaining that the privacy lock has turned against you...It's even more humbling to have the night clerk tell you the locksmith can't get there until 7:30 the next morning...It stops being humbling and starts being ridiculous when the locksmith arrives and informs you that the lock is so broken the entire door has to be removed. A Gold Medal Budget Travel Moment if I ever had one.
Luckily, the rest of the trip was more of the confetti variety! Milan is surprisingly inclusive for celiac travelers, and we actually really enjoyed seeking out certified gluten-free establishments. (Having traversed Iceland with Elle, I can confirm I was much less worried about Elle withering away on crackers throughout this trip) We had our pregame breakfast at the gluten-free (aptly named GluFree Bakery) with delicious mini pizzas and cannolis :)
Still sleep-deprived from the lock debacle, but fortified with classic Milano coffee (iykyk), we made our way to the Santa Giulia Ice Hockey Arena. A huge shoutout to all the Olympic volunteers who donated their time to making these events happen—under their direction, we had a very friendly, very smooth path through security and into the arena. Being super Type A, we got to Santa Giulia before the doors opened and had over an hour to kill before the game would begin. Cue the classic stadium walkthrough, where you count the different food stands and browse exorbitantly overpriced merchandise (and buy some of said merch...) Even after a few back-and-forths down the halls, we still had quite some time before puck drop, so I took the opportunity to send some pictures to the family.
Here's where the notorious bad influence Alyce Penry comes in.
One of my mom's classic stories is how she was on Semester at Sea in the Fall of 1989 when the Berlin Wall fell...and how she was too much of a rule-follower & a penny-pincher to fly to Germany and watch the wall come down with some of her fellow voyagers. SAS is always a once-in-a-lifetime event, but the end of the Cold War is on its own level. So when my mom realized I was only there to see the bronze medal match, she started her campaign.
If you know me an inch, you know I love hockey. On top of that, I'm huge Kendall Coyne Schofield fan (especially since she works with the Blackhawks!), and it honestly wouldn't take that much convincing for me to drop another couple hundred euros to see a USA v. Canada championship game. It's the best rivalry with some of the most trailblazing women in hockey, players who will likely be chasing other adventures in subsequent Olympic games. However, this was a joint decision. Elle is many things! A hockey fan, not quite one of them...it's not that she disliked the sport, it's that she'd never seen a game before, not even televised, and had already agreed to endure me (an overzealous fan) for the three hours of the bronze medal match...would she be willing to extend that patience for the rest of the evening?
I showed Elle the texts from my mom, regaling her the Berlin Wall story, saying everything along the theme of "C'mon we have to do this! When else will we get the chance?"
Dear Reader, I'm thrilled to report that Elle agreed. And honestly, three cheers for Elle, because it takes a lot for someone to commit to the bit that much. She gave the okay just as the puck was dropping for the bronze medal match, and thus bought her gold medal ticket before she'd even seen a second of the sport live. Doesn't that make her version of the story just the coolest?
I'd be remiss if I skipped over the Bronze Medal Match. Sweden and Switzerland were so well-matched, and the atmosphere was incredible. A very competitive, high-energy match, complete with an overtime winner! Our seats were surprisingly good, right behind the net and rather close to the friends/family section, which meant we had a great view of some very emotional celebrations. I almost started crying during the post-game celebrations—Elle teased me, but I mean, come on! The thrill of victory, the vindication of decades of hard work and sacrifice mixed with the heartbreak of being so close to the podium. I was elated for Switzerland and devastated for Sweden, and then very promptly ushered out of the stadium so the Gold Medal preparations could begin.
Everyone had to exit the arena and wait for a designated re-entry time, which translates to "Elle and Natalie sat outside and watched their phone batteries and body temperatures plummet for an hour." There was some phenomenal people watching, to be fair. We saw the friends & families of Team USA & Team Canada, and I'm fairly certain we saw Jason & Kylie Kelce being escorted to their box? If my eyes didn't deceive me?
Eventually, they did let everyone back inside, and we scrambled over to our new seats. There weren't really any bad seats in the arena, but I was still pleasantly surprised at how close we were to the ice, for being "second tier" seats. It had already been a very long, high-energy day, and I give a lot of credit to the other fans for keeping the vibes up throughout the game. I'd say ~25% of the crowd attended both sessions, so there were plenty of happy-but-tired people who kicked it into gear and kept the atmosphere electric. That being said, Elle and I are in agreement that we, as a country, need to adopt a better chant than "U-S-A! U-S-A!" when we play Canada because "U-S-A!" is indistinguishable from "CA-NA-DA!" when chanted by grown men in an echo-y arena.
To be honest, it was a little loud to be surrounded by that many loud & proud Americans. While there were definitely more Canadians in attendance, the US had a decent showing in the stands, and man, they were loud. I've spent ~3 of the last 4 years abroad, what with SAS/Backpacking/Spain/Edinburgh, and it's rare for me to be amongst that many countrymen united behind a common theme. Like, I cannot tell you the last time I saw that much American flag apparel in one place. (In case you were wondering, I wore the singular Blackhawks jersey I brought to Scotland with me. Shout out Kendall Coyne!)
Once I got over that slightly weird sensation, I don't think the smile fell from my face after the puck dropped. Well, that's a lie. I certainly wasn't smiling when Canada scored first. But trust, the smile came back BEAMING once Team USA tied it up! And once again to mention the seats: we were phenomenally lucky to be seated at the end of the ice where all three goals of the match were scored. But that's getting ahead of things...
Let me, once again, set the scene: it's late in the third period, and everyone is losing their minds yelling. Canadians are moments away from taking back the gold, Americans are desperate to send the game to overtime, and miscellaneous Europeans are loving the tight competition, when all of a sudden—SHE SCORES! And we go to overtime. A blockbuster moment by any right, but if it seems like an anticlimax, that's because of what happen in overtime. As a write this, a few months after the match, trust that overtime is the shining moment of this whole experience.
The clock is ticking lower and lower, and it's seeming like we're going to have to take this to double overtime—a near fatal concept for Elle and I, as both of our phones are hovering near death and while public transport will stay open to shuttle attendees away from the arena, we won't be able to grab the last commuter bus out to the land of budget hotels. It's burst-your-eardrums-and-aggravate-tinnitus loud, everyone (minus one grumpy guy behind us) is standing, clenching muscles, jumping up and down.
And Dear Reader, remember when I said we got to see all three goals scored? Yeah. That.
The last two or three times the US had gained entry to the zone, I'd had a feeling that I should have my camera out and risk the battery, a sixth sense that we were on the precipice of making something happen. I think the video speaks for itself. And apologies for shrieking.
BUT WE WON!!!!
Genuinely, it's difficult to recount and convey those memories. If I had to hazard an uneducated guess, I'd think it would have something to do with the surge of adrenaline. The aftermath of the goal is such a blur—I remember screaming, jumping up and down, hugging Elle (yes, I voluntary hugged someone. that's how wired I was) and literally crying. But those are more like little flashes of memory that pop up amidst the feelings of elation and triumph. The concrete memories start when the adrenaline started to fade, namely, the never-ending wait for the medal ceremony.
I'm sure it was only thirty minutes or something, but it legitimately felt like hours in between the goal and the presentation of medals. Here's the insider scoop: the workers did not know what to do with the carpets. I'd love to know what the broadcasters did to vamp, because Elle and I probably spent fifteen minutes watching these poor volunteers struggle to align three different carpets. (And a few days later when we watched the Men's Ice Hockey final on TV, we did note the speed in which those carpets came out, so, glad to know they learned from the past).
When they final got things straightened out, the Medal Divas came out in their puffers with the Tina Stuffed Animals, and I started crying again. Not at the Divas or the Tinas (though I am thoroughly obsessed with the stoat), but at Team Canada, who happened to be lined up right in front of us. I watched their captain, the legendary Marie-Phillip Poulin, go down the line and hug every single person on their team. Immediate tears. Obviously, she wasn't doing that because a couple thousand people were watching, but the impact those actions has is immense. It speaks of the less-celebrated elements of sportsmanship, compassion and understanding. Every single woman on both teams gave it their all, and it only takes a fraction of empathy to recognize how devastating it had to be for Team Canada to come so close to something they've been dreaming about since they were children. To witness someone processing that loss while reaching out to their teammates drove home the gulf between 'losing' and 'failing'—none of the women on Team Canada should consider their performance a failure, not when they represented their home and their sport so admirably.
Once the medal ceremony finally concluded, Elle and I joined the throngs of people shuffling out to the streets of Milan. The trolleys are cute, but significantly less enjoyable when packed like a tin of sardines. We made our way back to the hotel blessedly encountered no further lock trouble.
Milan by Day!
While our official Olympic Experience wrapped up Thursday, Friday was still very much influenced by the games. With only a single day to sightsee such an iconic city, we decided to altar our plans to fit the once-in-a-lifetime pop-ups that existed for the Olympics. Whoever was in charge of tourism for the Olympics was kind enough to create a walkable map for visitors surrounding Parco Sempione, and we clung to this like a life preserver.
This meant starting in Arco della Pace in to see the Olympic Flame. We did find a tad difficult to actually see the flame, what with the sun shining so brightly, but I'd chalk that up to having spent an entire winter in the eternal winter of Scotland and being so unaccustomed to light. No complaints, though. That was literally the first time I'd felt warm in months.
We followed the Olympic Boulevard down to the official Fan Zone. An astonishing number of people were queueing for the "Coca Cola Experience" but like, European Coke is not nearly as good as American Coke (they're missing the chemicals that make it both incredibly unhealthy and deliciously crisp), so not worth the hours in line if you ask me. There were a couple of little temporary stalls for sponsors, as well as a giant screen playing live sports. This is exactly the kind of place I would have gone crazy for as a child; as an adult, I was more than happy to breeze through and leave the crowds.
Next on the Boulevard Map was the Sforza Castle. If you've recently gone to see The Devil Wears Prada 2, this location is featured in the movie! In real life, there were fewer designer labels and significantly more sensible shoes. At this point, we meandered away from the official path to see the Teatro alla Scala, which happened to be positioned in front of the Olympics logo. The Teatro was gorgeous, of course, and the logo was surprisingly anticlimatic. Very small and not positioned well—you'd think you'd want to curate the background of this photo op to feature one of the gorgeous, iconic landmarks in the city, not just slap it in front of a brick wall.
Anyway! We continued down to Galleria Vittorio Emanuele II (aka, that really bougie shopping arcade that Meryl Streep walks down in, you guessed it, The Devil Wears Prada 2) and out into the Duomo. I promise this is my last Devil Wears Prada reference, but can I just say: I understand how the production managed to make all the children screaming with silly string disappear during filming, but I don't know how they managed to make all the pigeons invisible because my god, they were everywhere. But wow! Look! So pretty!
To be completely honest, it was incredibly overstimulating because of the aforementioned toddlers with silly string. Very loud, very crowded, very much not somewhere I want to return during an Olympic season. That being said, I know it's a cultural moment, so we decided to step away and replenish at a local gluten-free restaurant, Mama Eat, with some pasta and spritzes (because, you know, Italy) before heading back to the Duomo for a tour.
In an excellent example of the universe and its timing, just as we walked back to the plaza, we ran into some members of the US Women's Hockey team, fresh off their interviews at the NBC Media center (located in the Piazza del Duomo). Very cool to see the heroines of the hour with their medals and everything!
Not two minutes later, I passed a man in a USA bomber jacket who looked suspiciously like that one motivational speaker from the singular Buffini Mastermind Conference I'd gone to with my mom back in 2022...I rapidly googled a picture of Apolo Ohno and asked Elle, "Do you think that guy holding the microphone is the same as this guy on my phone?" Dear Reader, it was. And I really did think about going up to him and saying "Hey, I saw you speak to a room full of realtors in San Diego a few years ago!" but I decided that he was just doing his job and probably didn't want to be bothered by two sleep-deprived twenty-somethings. Still cool to see though!
Back to the Duomo! Or rather, back inside the Duomo ;) It was gorgeous, of course. A miracle of engineering and a national treasure, naturally. I always find it interesting to tour churches that are simultaneously under restoration/construction—something about the intersection of "ancient" engineering with modern-day technology is fascinating. Unfortunately, due to the more spontaneous nature of our visit, we weren't able to get tickets to climb to the roof terrace, but I'd say Elle and I were properly amazed by the basic entry.
We were in dire need of a late-afternoon pick-me-up. As luck would have it, there was a highly recommended gelato place nearby. We got our cups and went to hang out near La Scala and a statue of everybody's favorite Leo (da Vinci!). That just about wrapped up our day, though our trip had one more certified Budget Travel Moment...
In true Budget Travel Fashion, we flew Ryanair, and naturally, Ryanair doesn't fly to the close Milan airports; it flies to Milan Bergamo. Due to the early hour of our departure flight, there were no public transport options to get us to Bergamo, outside of sleeping on the floor of the airport. To be fair, Elle was down to that. I, on the other hand, am old and weary, and I have officially grown out of the "get to the airport at 2:00 am to save $50" phase. May Backpacking Natalie rest in peace (2022-2026).
So! We had an early night in at our hotel and got up at like, 4:00 am to taxi to Bergamo. It was an uneventful trip back to Edinburgh.
And that's the Bucket List Trip, recapped! I know in the days following our trip, USA Hockey came under a lot of scrutiny, and I definitely don't think that needs to be rehashed all these weeks later. However, as someone who was quite literally in attendance to watch the women win gold, I will say that that is the moment I want to keep bringing up, over and over again. Amplify the positive, celebrate the massive accomplishment those women achieved, and shine the spotlight accordingly. USA Women's Hockey Players are rockstars, and their flowers are their own.
Thanks for reading along! Hopefully the longer post made up for my accidental hiatus. With any luck, I'll be posting another mini-adventure in a more timely manner. With that being said, I'll reiterate one more time how special this trip was. Going to the Olympics is such an incredible memory to make, and squeezing it into an already busy Masters degree heightens the sparkle. I'm so grateful for the opportunities to explore and seek out adventures. And who knows? Maybe I'll find my way to France in another four years—who knows what my life will look like then ;)
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