Milan

When one wants a fast paced trip, what place is better than the face paced city streets of high-fashion Milan? Well, that was exactly what Rachel and I thought, as we took off Friday evening after a day doing homework and sunning ourselves on the beach. We flew directly from Santander to Milan, Italy. After a short bus ride from Bergamo, a town with a colorful history itself, we found ourselves in our 'hotel' right at 1 o'clock. I pulled out my Spanish cell phone, so that I could send a text to Mom and Russ to let them know that we had survived the trip, but I had forgotten that these damn Spanish phones have a security aspect on them that requires a password any time that you turn it back on. Jo. But it was okay, because there was a SOS button, which I figured was to customer service for exactly situations like these.

I called, and a nice Spanish man answered. When I told him what I needed, he said "One moment please". Another man came on the line, and I began in English. "So I've turned my phone off, and I don't have my sim card information with me. I need my password so that I can turn my phone on!" No hablas ingles, he told me. Hablas espanol? Si, un poco, I replied. I explained my predicament in Spanish. Donde estas? Where are you? He asked me. I replied that we were in Milan, and I had turned my phone off in the plane and... all of a sudden, the phone exploded with angry shouting. And it was all very fast. But I caught a few important words: solo para emergencia... policia nacional... estupido... Oops. Turns out, SOS stands for 9-1-1... and they can't help you when you are in Italy and they are in Spain.

But we knew right away that the rumors that "spanish sounds just like Italian" were DEFINITELY WRONG when I misunderstood the cab driver and got out of the car at the wrong time. But let me be honest... I know not what they may say, but I could listen to those lilting accents all day long. The Italian language is so musical; Spanish dimms in comparison. And I definitely fell in love... just ask Rachel. The entire time I was trying to read the overly-consonated names of streets, it was all completely AV-e-NI-da SPA-ge-TI!

Milan by night, in our neighborhood at least, was definitely a dreary place. And it was one o'clock in the morning. So we decided to go to bed and get a good head start on the morning. Our Muslim hotel-keepers recommended several streets and sights to see, and those were our starting locations.

As we were walking down Via Buenos Aires, complete with a gloriously spacious and non-bright-red McDonalds, we were both distracted by what we saw...

A Flea Market.

That went for three whole streets.

I have never in my life seen such a market put together. There were battered and fried olives, mozzarella balls, chicken... pesto picante, pesto of rosemary, fresh fish, meat, cheese, fruit, vegetables, breat... underwear, skirts, shirts, jewelery... birds, turtles... It was extravagant and wonderful. And of course, everyone spoke Itali-can, including the man who claimed to have real Italian silk shirts, and told me that he "a-hada that-a siz-a for me".

We made it to the center of town, and were completely unimpressed with the Duomo, which is supposed to be the third largest cathedral in the world. It wasn't even open. We gave up initially, and took off down Via Montenapoleone... let's just say, it's a really good thing I don't have any money, because I could have done some real damage.

Via Montenapoleone is the street with all the fancy designers: Chanel, Gucci, Armani... people I have never heard of, who have dog ugly clothes that they sell for $1000 bucks a pop. But they do at least get really fancy bags! And I think for the first time in my life, I actually saw a Tiffany's store... a nice thing to know... Russ... just kidding :) But seriously.

The thing about Milan which suprised me was that the fashion wasn't straight off the runways. We definitely saw people wearing tennies and leggings, what we were wearing, and very few with 'real' Coco Chanel handbags. Maybe we just hit the wrong season for the stars? Or maybe we just didn't have the credit limit to go into the right stores... Either way, even in the shops, the things on display were classic, chic, very Audrey Hepburn as some might say. For instance, there was a store, who sold only hats. The close fitting, highly expensive and stylish skull caps that have feathers and veils and are totally cute. There was also another store that only sold Italian leather gloves... but that store contained THOUSANDS UPON THOUSANDS of gloves, in every color, every style, and with every type of lining that you could think of. 

Eventually, Rachel and I were shopped out. We headed back to a crowded cafe and tried out the sandwhiches and GLORIOUS cappuccinos. Then we decided it was time for the history. We had already been disappointed by the Duomo... but then, we couldn't find the street we were on in the map. Rachel takes a look, and heads off to another street. Oh! We say, we were just on the wrong street. Well, thank goodness. Hopefully the new Duomo is more impressive... just where is it? It says it's right there. We look around, down the streets. Then, at the same time we turn around. And are astounded by the enormous monstrosity that is the Duomo standing before us. It is truly magnificent. With hundreds of spires, a saint carved at the top of each, and standing at least 1500 feet up into the sky, the intricately carved doors and walls are an impressive sight to see. And the dimly lit interior is also fantastic. Built in the 14th century, although the original architetch is unknown, the Duomo has undergone lots of changes in the last several hundred years. It is a wonderful sight to see... even if it doesn't have catacombs, and I STILL missed out on seeing where people are buried.

But of course, I made sure to light a candle for Papa.

Next week, more adventures, but this time, en Alemania!