Our home was the Hotel Berna (The Bear) which was close to Milano Centrale Station and the airport shuttle bus stop (at the train station).
We spent our days walking into the historic center of Milan, or exploring the new more modern neighborhoods around us, and one great night watching the world cup final with a couple thousand of our closest friends.
The Duomo di Milano, or Milan Cathedral, is a real highlight. You can spend a lot of time just walking around the building looking at the gargoyles and statuary, and the front facade is amazing and very famous. You recognize it immediately from photos. The coolest thing to do is go up on the roof, where you can wander around a marble forest of spires and buttresses, and stare down at the city.
The Duomo Piazza is lined with cafés and shops, including the “world’s first indoor shopping mall,” the Galleria Vittorio Emanuele II. I am no fan of shopping, but this building is amazing, with soaring glass ceilings, beautiful tile work, and great people watching. It all comes together at the one end, where there is a tiled bull on the floor. It is tradition to step on his testicles for good luck, and many people spin on one foot as they do it. It is fun to try, and more fun to sit with a cup of very expensive coffee and watch others do it.
And yes, I do have good luck.
We wandered all around the streets and through the Parco Sempione, a relaxing green oasis on a hot and busy day. Down one main street I had probably the best falafel of my life, made by some recent immigrants in a small shop front. On another side street, just off the main paizza, I got the best wine and appertivos deal of the trip, when the waiter brought me an entire tray of every kind of snack to have with my one glass of wine. And I had simply asked, “Ciò che il vino mi consiglia? “ or “Which wine do you recommend?” He waited to see my satisfied smile, then bowed with a flourish.
We didn’t get to see The Last Supper, Leonardo da Vinci’s painting (which you must book several months in advance) due to some restoration work at the time.
But, to make up for it, we did get to see the final game of the world cup soccer championship. The Spanish were playing the Dutch team. We had been following the games all summer in the local bars, cheering with the crowds on sidewalks, and watching as huge screen TVs were built in the piazzas of every town. Milano was no exception, and the days leading up to the game became exciting, even though Italy was well out of it by now.
The fans walking though the city were making their allegiance known by wearing the uniforms or colors, and in the evening impromptu chanting parades would form.
We reserved a table, fronting the piazza, in a café right across from the TV. I mean this screen was about three stories tall and wide as a building. The evening of the game it was very hot and muggy. We settled in, ordered drinks, then a simple dinner of lasagna, and then as the game started we got a litre of wine and bottle of water.
The piazza was packed, standing room only, with fans, and as the game went on the roar of the crowd was deafening. The riot police were set with their gear, and regular police forces started to fan out in the crowd. The cafes were all overflowing, and each had their own little TVs turned to the game as well, so the sound around and behind us was just amazing.
The game almost ended at a zero-zero tie. The riot police bunched up, you could sense the tension in the air. For the entire second half, everyone was just so ready for something, anything to happen, that both sides cheered and booed madly on every single play, in unison. Somebody, somehow just had to score.
So the game went into stoppage time. The crowd got louder, and it seemed as if everyone was on the same side now, just cheering at every possible scoring drive and cursing every single penalty (this game saw a record number of yellow cards) or botched play. So we just went with it.
FINALLY…. With four minutes to go in extra time, Spain scored, and beat the Netherlands 1-0 to take the cup.
Right as that happened and the crowd roared, the sky opened up and it started to pour!
The thousands of people in the piazza dashed for cover, people crowing under the café awnings and umbrellas, until they got soaked from the dripping, and suddenly the game was over, the crowd dispersed, and the piazza was empty in the pouring rain.
The police gathered, shook hands and left, the cafes slowly emptied, people having their last cup of coffee and walking or hailing a cab. We sat a while longer, then wandered over and scored a taxi for the wet ride back to the hotel.
The next morning, over coffee, I read the headlines in the paper and relived the game.
That day, when we returned to the square, the TV was already half dismantled, the trash gone from the night before, and the streets back to normal business as usual.
We spent the last day café hopping, eating gelato and drinking cold Lemon Ice, and already missing a country we had come to love.
It was a great way to end our trip.
-July 2010