I have never been to Milano, until last weekend. Which is quite odd, taking into consideration that I am an Italian-freak and that I have visited over 30 cities back and forth on the ‘boot’.
Arriving to the airport, which must be some modern confusion stating on my ticket that I arrived to Milano, actually I arrived to Bergamo. I mean, come on guys, it is really no the same. Not only because it is by definition an other city but mainly because it takes 40 minutes to get to the actual desired destination.
Nevertheless, this whole transfer mission is surprisingly smooth, cost effective and operational. So thumbs up!
I spent three days in Milano, which clearly, does not make me a Milanese-expert, but definitely allows me to formulate some impressions.
On the negative side of the invisible balance:
- Milano is not Italy. Or at the very least, not the Italy I fall in love with.
- Milano has no special personality that will help me to identify her when I get old.
- Milano is obviously not the capital of fashion anymore – or if so, then term, fashion, should be re-defined.
- Milano is dirty. (Even Napoli seems to give me nicer memories in this regard).
- Milano allows people to pee anywhere and everywhere. So Milano is the city to see bottoms of strangers without paying for it. Unwanted part of the sightseeing.
- Milano has no special breeze that will make remember of her, unless the strong smell of urine counts; if so, then Milano has a very special breeze after all.
- Milano allows people to smoke anywhere and everywhere. So while other countries ban smoking in bars, Milanese are lighting their cigarette while punching their metro tickets.
- Milano is expensive, but this does not come as shock.
- Milano and its reputation with the prestigious Scala might have been true once. Disapointment. Heart-breaking disappointment.
- Milano hides one of the biggest treasure of all times: the Last Supper. I could not see. And I am pretty sure Leonardo would not be happy about this fact. Number one rule for all these art works: it is for everybody. So please, make a system that works perfectly for the Uffizi, or the Sistine Chapel and allows people go, see, observe and leave.
But I still liked Milano. I might be critical retrospect but wherever I go, I enjoy it to the fullest. Because I want – and because that is why I travel.
“To feel, to sense, to absorb, to digest, to select the good and bad, and then to make order in my internal city booklet.”
So why I am still going to hold sweet memories?
- I was holding the hand of a special person.
- I met some wonderful people.
- I got inspiration and new ideas.
- I got appetite to see more
- I saw the women of dignity and more
- I went to a basketball match, where I realized how it feels to be stigmatized. (more about his later)
- I learnt how to behave when they look at you as threat: smile and say thank you for their services (viva polizie)
- I could dance on the street. (pure happiness)
- I wondered around with ready to discover eyes.
- I had delicious foods. (lovely calories)
- I learnt to find myself around in a new city again. (success)
- I walked the streets that were once walked by Leonardo. (chill)
- I got completely silent by the first view of the Duomo.
- I was walking around on the top of the Duomo.
- I went to the San Siro Stadium that (if I would like football) would be a dream coming true.
- I went to the Scala, to check it for myself what I missed when I quit dancing. (relief)
- I had a Gucci tea (not a bag, but we all have to start somewhere)
- I captured some beautiful moments with my new Nikon lenses.
- I had an amazing walk by the calm-loud canals.
- I received plenty from the Italian sunshine.
- I slept deep and restful
- I laughed a lot
- I loved a lot…. I loved life, the air, the possibility to be there. I loved him, myself, and the whole universe.
All these experiences make an equal balance. Or wait: maybe the good were even more?! Yes, they more . So maybe my heart will not jump out of its comfortable place for the word Milano, yet, I will always embrace my Milanese memories.
Visual senses of the city: