Milan is an interesting place as it mixes the old world architecture with new world hustle, bustle and congestion! I like Milan for this and yet I find myself feeling like I’ve left Italy and gone back to Toronto. My Italy is mountains and hills, some areas by the sea, some not. But for the most part, my Italy is slow paced where everything you view looks as if it was taken from a renaissance painting and for the most part people are practicing Christians. This is not exactly Milan. A beautiful brunette “Kitty”, the cousin of Mimma picked me up from the train station. I am very grateful to have met Mimma as she is truly one of a kind and she certainly hooked me up. When we arrived at her apartment I was in awe. It was so beautiful, not what I had expected from my previous stays in Italy. She told me that her home was mine and because she would be leaving for work the next morning very early she’d give me the keys and show me around to the outdoor pool, tennis and basketball court in case I got bored…HA!
Kitty told me that we were invited to a celebration and as I was probably starving there would be food. I wasn’t entirely sure what the celebration was for but I’m sure never to forget it now. When we got the house we were given some water and asked if we’d like anything else to drink, wine, beer, appaertif.. I was already dehydrated and it was hot as Hades in Milan so I opted for water. Once all the guests had arrived we were ushered into a small narrow room with just enough seating for everyone (approx. 10) behind a chair that faced a small wooden desk decorated with Japanese style writings. These tiny books that looked like scriptures were handed to each guest. The owner of the house sat in the chair that faced the desk, with her back turned to face her guests. As soon as she took her seat the chanting began. A woman pointed to a part of the scripture that contained the words being said. I looked around and almost everyone was chanting (except for Kitty and her other friend Sausage). I decided to join in so as not to appear rude and of course for the experience. There were some tears, some words (in Italian Japanese) being spoken, more tears, signing of a scroll all the while chanting that mantra and then it was complete. It was a Buddhist ceremony to welcome her into the religion. It was interesting. Once finished we went back into the main room and ate. I got to talking with this man who was 43 about what I knew of Buddhism. I told him I knew of it as a spiritual religion that was centered around the self as a spiritual vessel, not toward any specific deity. He told me later that I must have done something terrible because it seemed my karma was bad because I’d yet to have a good experience with men (the conversation was obviously much longer and started from Kitty admitting she’d never had a boyfriend) and that that was not normal. Something to ponder I guess.
In Milan the nightlife rages on until the wee hours by the canal, even on Sundays. I was told the canal is a man made structure and as it is filled with polluted water (very Toronto) it is best to go at night, so I did. As it was my first night there I was extremely tired and didn’t feel much like raging so we ate at an incredibly delicious pizzeria on the canal strip. I try to eat veggies wherever I can so when I saw a Mexican pizza with beans, mozzarella cheese, hot sausage, peppers and tomatoes I had to have it. It was incredibly delicious and something my mouth has never tasted before.
The next morning I decided to take a dip in the pool. As I surfaced I noticed everyone’s eyes on me. Next thing I knew I was tossed a swimming cap and told that long hair is a problem. After swimming I made some lunch and had a shower. While deciding what to wear I thought ‘I’d look pretty cute in that red dress for pictures in the Duomo’. What a good idea that turned out to be! I took the metro on a solo mission to the Dumo (it was pretty refreshing to be alone and go about things at my own pace…turtle mode). 10 stops from Gorla (my new home) and I arrived at the Duomo (Italy’s 2nd largest church, 3rd largest in the world). Upon leaving the station I was struck by the grandeur of this structure. It looks like an ice castle with all of the pointed silo’s resembling icicles. As I was stopped to star at this gorgeous monstrosity I was apprehended by a vendor. “Italian bracelet for free for free, for YOU” despite my attempts to say no thanks he began tying it on. I figured at this point I’d indulge him so when he asked where I was from I said Canada. When it was tied he changed his tune and began asking me for money. I ripped my arm from him and shouted as I began walking hastily away “you said it was free”.
To get inside you must pass guards that tell you whether or not you’re appropriately dressed. Funny, you’d think I’d have learnt something about appropriate dress codes from all the times I was sent home from junior -high for being inappropriately dressed. The guard pointed to a sign that showed a picture with a woman bearing her shoulders, it had an X through it. Guess that meant my attempts at looking cute with my little red dressed were in vain. I departed and took a walk around the square looking for something to cover up with.
Finally I got inside to take some photo’s and then went up what felt like the CN tower stair to get to the top to take a birds eye view of Milan. Next on my agenda was to go to see Da Vinci’s ‘Last Supper” painting. My map completely fooled me into thinking it was within walking distance. 2 blisters and wobbly legs later I had to stop for a drink and ask for directions. Turns out I was nowhere close. I purchased a metro ticket and hopped back on the subway. By the time I got to the church where the painting is held it was closedà 3 hours later. I went back to the apartment defeated. I decided that I might stay another day and try to take in more of the sites but when I checked the schedule for this church it said that one needed a ticket in order to get in to see the painting and tickets were sold out until August. So I set my alarm for 8am to catch the train at 11am. However, much like it would happen in Toronto, I woke at 7am to the sounds of a police/fire siren and crazy man yelling out into the morning light. Bon voyage Milan!
No comments:
Post a Comment