Milan

The Duomo from the subway exit

Previously, the only part of Milan we had seen was the inside of the train station, which is cavernous.  The outside, it turns out, is monumental and grand in an eclectic way.  (At night the roof is lit with lavender light which gives it an otherworldly air, as if UFOs were landing.)  You exit onto a spacious plaza which, when we arrived, around 10 in the morning, was full of clothes and shoes venders set up in a warren of booths.  Milan is the business capital of Italy and right away you could see the dedication to commerce.  We had intentionally booked a hotel near the station because we wanted to catch a bus to the airport in the morning.  Beyond the plaza, the area around the station was open and far less congested than I’d anticipated.  We had no trouble finding our hotel and, dropping our luggage in the room, dove into the Metro.  The Piazza Duomo, the heart of the old city, was only 4 stops away.  We emerged from the subway and there it was facing us from across the piazza.  Now, although Europe is full of them, I’m not one to seek out churches wherever I go, but this one is impressive.  It took 5 centuries to build, and you can tell.  The care and attention that went into every facet is phenomenal.  We toured the interior with its soaring vault, plethora of carved wood, and sprays of stained glass everywhere, and then circumnavigated the exterior, literally dripping with sculptures, and it was awesome inside and out.



Entrance to the Galleria



Then we noticed we were hungry.  It was about 1 in the afternoon.  Because it was tourist central, I knew everything around the area would be expensive and mediocre, but we didn’t have time to go elsewhere, and we didn’t know where else to go anyway, so we grabbed a table right there on the piazza and ordered beers and pizza.  In Italy, pizza is usually safe; most places can manage an edible one.  And at least the people-watching was good.  Italian women (and men as well) have a well-developed sense of style and here more than anywhere it’s in evidence.  Milan is the fortress of fashion, the shrine of style.  Refilled and ready, we plunged into the Galleria, a sort of cathedral of shopping with a soaring glass ceiling.  Walking straight through to the opposite end we emerged on a little square with La Scala, the famous opera house, on one side.  From the outside it’s so understated that if you weren’t looking for it, you’d walk right by without noticing.  Passing it, we strolled along Via Dante toward the Sforza Castle, a building with a louring, forbidding air, softened by a big splashing fountain out front.  I had thought that Via Dante, a wide shopping street, would have all the designer shops, but it didn’t, it had just ordinary shops, and a few cafes.  On the way back from the Castle, we stopped at one for an espresso, and then headed over to Via Montenapolitano, where all the designer shops actually are.  Armani, Ferragamo, Yves Saint Laurent, Versace, Dior, Prada, Dolce & Gabbana, Karl Lagerfeld, Tommy Hilfiger, Ralph Lauren, Oscar de la Renta, Roberto Cavalli, Chanel, Missoni, you name it, they all seemed to be there, and the prices were breathtaking.  Are there really that many people who spend $800 on a pair of shoes, you ask.  Well, there were some window shoppers like us but, aside from a passenger in a Bentley attended by a chauffeur, I didn’t see anyone actually entering the shops. 



Galleria interior



I have to admit to some ambivalence about the fashion world.  There is an air about it of superficiality and faddishness combined with pretense that is off-putting.  In addition, my social conscience wants to say that anyone who can afford $800 for a pair of shoes probably ought to be paying more taxes.  On the other hand, maybe that’s too severe.  To the extent that a designer is not promoting a follow-the-fad mentality but instead is enlarging the options and possibilities for self-expression, isn’t he making the world a more interesting place?  People who pay these prices are simply exercising another form of patronage.  They’re buying wearable art.  Still, it seems a frivolous, ephemeral art.  Fashion is a form of flirtation, the plumage of the mating dance.  For that reason it’s a youthful art form, but one few youths have the resources to indulge, except in a self-created way.  Wearing designer duds is a status display, a way of showing off your financial worthiness, but also a game of follow the leader.        



Sforza Castle from Via Dante



I knew we were unlikely to find a good restaurant in the neighborhood near the train station, but I also knew it was unlikely we’d find one around the Duomo, and the latter area promised to be more expensive without offering any improvement in quality, so we returned to the hotel and asked the desk clerk what he could recommend.  He offered a place called Il Tavolino.  We found it easily, but the entire staff of the restaurant was Chinese.  Could we trust a Chinese cook to prepare good Italian food?  It seemed unlikely, to me.  My misgivings gathered steam when I scanned the English menu and found items like “horseflesh” and “cakies in the undercarriage.”  Looking around, it seemed to me that the other clientele looked a bit weird, as well.  I was about to make a break for it, but Frieda convinced me it would be alright, so we ordered some swordfish and hoped for the best.  It was edible, and I didn’t get food poisoning, but I wouldn’t recommend the place. 

You can’t develop an intimate acquaintance with a city in 24 hours, but Milan has a different ambiance than other cities in Italy.  It feels more like an American city in that everyone is focused on business; they’re all in a hurry, on a mission.  And it’s like a German city in that it’s cleaner, and more car friendly.  Yet it also has elegant buildings such as you don’t find in either Germany or the States.  So, it’s an amalgam of qualities.  First and foremost it’s a working city, not a resort or a museum, though it has buildings worth looking at.  Frieda, being a New Yorker, liked it very much, but I missed the more relaxed pace of other Italian cities.  Also, while I’m sure there must be good restaurants if you know where to find them, the food we got was mediocre at best, and that’s a travesty, because Italy is all about the food.