Milan
Next I had a few weekdays in Milan visiting Azzurra (even though she unfortunately had to work). I spent the days sightseeing or shopping while trying not to get heatstroke, and the evenings enjoying aperitivo, seeing old friends, and yes, duh, eating. I'll preface by saying Milan isn't one of my top spots in Italy, but it certainly has a few redeeming qualities, and I enjoyed finding examples of its stereotypes in action.
Milano is known for a many things, fashion perhaps being the highest among them. I was still somehow surprised at the city's focus on la moda, and got to peek a bit deeper into the world since Azzurra works in it. Every single woman carries a designer bag, and evidently it's common to stumble upon photo shoots, like this one in front of the stunning duomo.
Another fashion-frenzied example: this olive oil made by our restaurant emulates Chanel's perfume bottles, with a N°5 marking its flavor profile.
Real talk about this fashion craziness though. I spent one day perusing the fashion houses, cruising up and down Milan's high street, being offered Pellegrino and champagne at Celine and Prada. My favorite experience, and where I ended up making a purchase, was at Celine. The lady who helped me was so personable, never making me feel Pretty Womaned (and my purse that day was a canvas tote, so that treatment would've been understandable), and we talked amicably about fashion, language, and Netflix. It was so pleasant and not at all forced; we were just two girls hanging out and I happened to give her my credit card before we parted ways.
My craziest experience, however, was at Gucci. Now, how much do you think this bag costs?
Whatever you think, add a zero. The woman at Gucci, with a straight face, pulls gloves out of her fanny pack, gingerly puts them on and reaches into the bag for the tag, and tells me it costs $22,000. As if that's not the price of one year's college tuition or a new Toyota Corolla. When I elaborated on this story to Azzurra, telling her the price tag was due to the leather being crocodile and it being a customized, "DIY" style, she understood me to have said it was made from a crocodile "di Hawaii," and nodded knowingly, saying, "Oh! So it was expensive because it was made from Hawaiian crocodile?" Again, I doubled over laughing.
A highlight of Milan was going to the top of the duomo with Azzurra. Earlier in the day I had entered the church itself on my own, but the interior has nothing on the exterior. Upon entering, the guard checking tickets looked behind me for more people in my group, saying, "But you are too beautiful to be alone!" Oh, how I'd missed the emotional boost of Italian men.
We went up together at sunset (Azzurra and me, not me and the guard), so the light was beautiful as we explored the archways, patterns, and statues, not to mention the view from the top. There are thousands of sculptures decorating the exterior of this cathedral, carved over centuries, and no two are alike. The magnitude and vision of the project is mind-boggling.
I always forget the unspoken rule that
Italians have to touch heads in pictures
Check out all the nuance in these patterns!
As always, I gladly dove into the rhythms and turns of phrase of Italian life: talking almost exclusively about food, ordering "un caffè" implicitly meaning an espresso, and frequently being made fun of for my inadvertent linguistic slips.
Time for a drink.
I decided that one of the days, while everyone was working, I'd visit one of the lakes, as I had never been to a single one, despite living in the north for three years! I decided to bypass Como at Azzurra's recommendation and try Maggiore. After what felt like a disaster missing my train and having to wait two hours for the next one (welcome to Italy!), I made it and immediately jumped on a boat to the islands.
Lunch was out of a dream, at Casabella on the Isola dei Pescatori. I had a fillet of fish with fancy little potato cushions and a refreshing glass of white wine. I could've moved in.
Restaurant with a view
After lunch, and having circumnavigated the whole island in 15 minutes, I moved on to Isola Bella, with the grand Villa Borromeo. You really need a drone to capture the magnitude of this incredible structure and its cascading gardens, so please check out this one from the villa's website:
It practically takes up the entire island!
My home gallery wall is thoroughly shamed
The elegant Chinese white peacock
Panoramic views
Loving life
Back in Milan, while Azzurra was briefly away for a work offsite (white water rafting, no less), Alessandro and I went out to meet some of his friends, on his motorcycle. It was very funny because I had told Brittany that I was going to ride around town on a vespa, Lizzie McGuire style, and when she saw the bike she called me out on my inaccurate labeling. To be fair, in Italian, the linguistic line between the two is pretty blurred, and I think any Italian would give you a different definition of the difference between a "moto" and a "motorino." I was pretty surprised by it being a motorcycle myself, and was thrilled as the air whizzed by us down the streets of Milan. As we passed by the duomo it felt like pure magic.
No, mom, I didn't drive it
At night, Milan turns into such a social, vibrant city. People are tired after long days at banks and in fashion houses, and they just want to enjoy life with friends. Strolling the warm streets, enjoying drinks in piazzas, expanding the web of friends at each new stop. I made lots of new friends and enjoyed how quickly and easily unique groups would form just for a night, everyone serendipitously present in that place, at that time, enjoying a glass of wine together. It's a beautiful, natural thing that feels stifled in most American cities.
I was lucky enough to get a time slot to see Da Vinci's The Last Supper while
in Milan, but I made the horrible mistake of being late (a recurring
theme in Milan, as you can tell). So my 15 minute window quickly became
10, and I was so frantic about it I could barely relax enough to
enjoy it. Still, I'm so glad I made it in to see this master work, as it
had been on my bucket list for awhile.
The last night in Milan I got to meet up with the other Alessandro we had lived with our year in Bologna and catch up on life. We met at an awesome bar called Frida that appears to have been sporting living walls long before it was cool.
The last night in Milan I got to meet up with the other Alessandro we had lived with our year in Bologna and catch up on life. We met at an awesome bar called Frida that appears to have been sporting living walls long before it was cool.
That night we enjoyed Cotoletta alla Milanese, breaded veal cutlet, with our fancy "Chanel" EVOO. Later, we got gelato to quench the heat at Milan's #1 rated gelateria, Il Massimo del Gelato. They had like ten different chocolate flavors! Alessandro was nonplussed at my verdict: Castiglione in Bologna is still the best.
With Azzurra and our Sicilian friend from UNIBO, Monia
Santorini
That weekend, I crashed four Calabrian friends' trip to Santorini. When originally planning dates to meet up with Azzurra, she had said the last weekend of the month wouldn't work for her, because she was going to be in Greece. To this I responded it would be no problem at all!
We basically spent each day racing to the beach, making big plans about the evening and saying we'd stop home to shower first but running out of time, then rushing to wherever we'd planned to be so we wouldn't miss the sunset, being awed by said sunset, and then eating a delicious spread of Greek food before going out. Rinse (or not) and repeat!
Our first day at the beach was my favorite-Azzurra and I swam out to a rock formation and bathed on the rocks like seals while catching up on life. It's one of my favorite memories of the trip, and of course has no photos!
Our pensione
Not pictured: five girls squished into one damp room
(not exactly how I'd pictured Santorini, but fun regardless!)
One of many sunsets!
Us with the barely visible lunar eclipse at
a popular winery in the middle of the island
The next day was a tragicomedy of errors. We wanted to see the red/white/black sand beaches on the south end of the island, which required a boat. Not fully understanding what this would entail, we jumped into what felt like a buoy tossing in the choppy waves. The first few minutes were grand, as evidenced below, however conditions got worse as we continued south, and soon both an older Italian lady and myself were quite unwell. I haven't been that motion sick since I rode in helicopter, and this surpassed it.
Finally, we made it back on solid ground, and after drinking a coke and laying with my head on the table for awhile, we headed back to the car only to find we had a flat tire as we started down the road! Pulling over next to a few putrid dumpsters, we called Andreas the rental car guy, who would always call each of us "my child". Since he wouldn't be able to send someone out for an hour, he recommended we track down a strapping Greek man, any Greek man, nearby who would help us out with the spare.
This kind guy, a ship captain, was our knight for the hour. Of course, he spoke none of our languages, so when a part was missing from the spare kit, we had to call Andreas to translate, and ended up accosting a group of vacationing young men to snag the crank from their rental's trunk. As our knight changed the tire and this group of guys were held hostage waiting for their tool, who shows up? The trash truck, needing to get into the dumpsters we were blocking. What a hilarious, hot, stinky mess!
Please note Azzu doing the stinky hand wave
Anyway, we made it through, swapped cars after driving 30 MPH all the way back to the airport on our spare, and headed finally to the beach.
That evening, as Azzurra booked dinner, she promised we were finally getting to go to Oia, which is what I'd wanted to see most in Santorini, and I was so excited! But as we turned off the road, I called out, "This isn't Oia!!" She had reserved dinner in another (also beautiful) town on the island, and while I was glad to see it, I was starting to worry I'd never make it it to Oia, as we were running out of days. The girls started parroting me all over the place, repeating, "This isn't Oia!" Anywhere we went. Still, look how gorgeous:
A lot of the weekend was payback as I now got to make fun of the other girls' English instead of always being made fun of for my Italian. Azzurra would call to make reservations (and honestly her English has gotten really good!) but we would all find some reason to laugh at what she'd said. That night Azzurra asked the waiter something like, "How is the pork?" and he replied, "Pork is pork." As we all laughed, he asked her to be more specific: "I ask because you are a little confused." Language humbles all.
After another day at the beach on our last full day, we finally had a chance to take a few minutes of relax time before we went to...
Oia!
After scrambling for parking, we watched the sunset before exploring the winding whitewashed labyrinth of this famous-the-world-over cliff town. Was it different than I'd expected? Definitely, and yet I couldn't tell you exactly how. There were stunning hotels built into the cliff with views like above, individual pools, you name it. We climbed over to the remains of the Oia castle, which juts out and offers a breathtaking vista over both sides of the town. There was a busker playing guitar, with young people the world over singing along while others balanced precariously for the perfect shot of the photogenic old town. One hour sitting and taking in this peaceful yet bustling scene was not nearly enough, but we grew hungry and made our way to the best meal of the trip, with a bounty of local dishes.
View from the castle
Now THIS is Oia!
Until next time, Europe and friends!
I LOL'd at Hugo Boss and the crocodile. Love that you got Pretty Woman'd and that you had a solo island adventure. Love that Santorini schedule!!
ReplyDelete