Arriving at Milano Centrale, it was clear I was in Italy – the place was loud and chaotic. As far as neighbours go, the Swiss and Italians couldn’t be less alike if they tried. The train station in Zurich had been the cleanest I had ever seen, the first to provide a waiting room for onward passengers and the most clearly signposted so far. In contrast, Milano Centrale was dirty and chaotic with limited signage and hundreds of people heading in what seemed like the same number of directions. After several tries, I found the Metro station, which while also poorly signposted and with no English instructions, had photocopied paper signs pointing to the line for Duomo station. Clearly they had gotten sick of travelers like me. None of the train attendants in Italy speak English which makes things interesting. The lady at the ticket office understood where I was heading and gestured with three fingers that it was line three. When I came out of the station there it was – Il Duomo, the gothic cathedral in all its beauty. It was one of the two things I had really come to Milan to see. And it was magnificent. And if you come to see it, make sure you see it at several different times of the day because it changes with the light. The queue to go inside was rather lengthy so I made do with the external view but that in itself was incredible. It was then time to find the hotel which was, as described, just around the corner from the cathedral about 50 metres if that. [‘Wake me Up Before you Go-Go’ – Wham – If George Michael wasn’t English, he would be from Milan. There is gold trimming on everything here. While Zurich was expensive, it was also austere. Milan, though stylish is still not worried about showing the cash that permeates the place. That’s why I say 80s music seems appropriate – in Italy if it’s not made of marble or trimmed in gold it’s painted in bright pastels.]
As Milan is one of the more expensive places to find a hotel, I was expecting something substandard. The Hotel Rio was great. The room was comfortable and came with my own Juliet balcony. The bathroom was palatial. There was a bidet and a marble bench seat under the window. I was sleeping on a latex mattress and the towels were luxurious – great big fluffy numbers. There was no bath but you get the impression the Milanese love their bathing (there were lots of shops selling luxurious towels). The only drawback was that the only power outlet was in the bathroom. At least there was power so I could charge everything (and catch up on the blogging I couldn’t do the night before).
I headed out to grab some dinner – I had penne Bolognese (the other choices were just as standard). I couldn’t find anywhere serving the feted Milanese delicacies of Osso Bucco and the like. The pasta was al dente, very yummy and washed down with a Pinot Grigio.
The next day I gave myself a well-needed sleep in and then headed to the second beacon on my itinerary – the Triennale – home of design and the Triennale museum. In the street I was stopped by two west Africans – the first (In Duomo Piazza) trying to give me/ sell me some kind of friendship bracelet and also asking whether I needed a husband. The second was further on, near the Triennale Station. He was carrying a stack of books and tried to engage me in conversation. If he was wearing a tie, I would have supposed I was about to get reeled in by a mormon. He wasn’t and I’m still not sure what his angle was. There were many more like him throughout the day. [‘Do you really want to hurt me?’ – Culture Club]
I arrived at the Triennale, had a look in the infamous bookshop and was told the museum was closed until March 30. Perhaps it was because I looked like a smelly backpacker. Or maybe it was just because it really was closed until March 30. At any rate, I didn’t get to see it. I wandered through the streets and grabbed a coffee at a café proclaiming wi-fi access. The problem was, you had to sign up for a month and pay quite a lot of euros – useful for repeat business I guess. There was a group of American teenage girls sitting at the table next to me – they spoke Italian and were clearly here studying but let me just say – maybe it was because they were teenage girls, maybe because they were American or maybe a combination of both but they drove me a little crazy. Again with the hand gestures, I managed to pay. It was actually hard to find anyone who spoke English in Milan.
After my pitstop I headed through the area around Duomo to check out the Piazzas and the shopping. The Galleria Vitoria Emanuele II was an experience – a high fashion Mecca in a glorious arcade. At the four points at its centre you could find Prada, Louis Vuitton, Bernasconi and McDonalds. Enough said. [‘I wanna be sedated’ – The Ramones – not quite over missing The Ramones museum yet. Not quite sure I’ll ever fit into my Ramones shorts again but I live in hope. Maybe all the walking will help.
Lunch was had at a small restaurant in one of the piazzas. These are clearly there for tourists but at least this one had something Milanese on the menu. I had Milanese (or saffron) risotto. While we cook risotto until often too creamy and stodgy, like their pasta, the Italians prefer their risotto al dente
One of the things that you notice most about Milan (and one of the things I love about Italian/ Milanese design much to the chagrin of others, including staff in the UC workshop) is that nothing is square. Curves are the hallmark of everything the Italians do – the city plan reveals curved streets and laneways around central plazas, some of which are round and none of this is because of the topography of Milan, as it is in Canberra – it’s just the way they like it. Even the public telephones are attractively curved. It would have been far cheaper and easier to make metal telephone box shaped – but the Milanese aren’t about easy – they’re about style… and chaos. [‘Ant Music’ – Adam and the Ants – their Prince Charming Album was the first band album I bought.]
Fiat!