Impressions: Milan

The first thing you have to get over in Milan is the graffiti.  It is everywhere on walls from the outer suburbs to the downtown, except the Duomo, the great cathedral at the center of the city.  The graffiti is multi-colored Italian. -- tags, sentences (must the university crowd), words urging action or just univeral foul language.

Milan is an old city but a beige city.  Not colorfully grand like Rome, Florence or Venice.  It's caught somewhere between boring chic and financial gritty.   Our hotel is chic modern planted in an industrial district that is rising out of the dust of car repair shops and small manufacturing businesses.  It's an urban frontier full of new office and residential construction.  The 30 minute tram ride to city center brushed us up against the everyday Milano, a reserved but helpful sort.  At our Santa Rosa stop, a retiree smiled and made sure we didn't get on the #9 train.  He just knew we needed the #12 train -- and we did.  We must look and smell like Americans :-)

Fashion is Milan's calling card. I know you've probably read about that, but seeing Milanos walk and bike through the narrow cobble streets makes it real.  Whether you're a student of the Academy in low cost duds or a woman of a certain age who shops at stores where blouses start way above what I paid for my last suit, Milanos know how to dress.  And, they are slender.  Even if you discount the numerous really, really thin models  strolling about in the markets, 90% of Milanos are slender.  But slender doesn't capture the aura you fell as someone walks by. A better word is streamlined that come s from the cut of the clothes, the fabric and the way it fits each body.  Our waitress at the small outdoor trattoria where we ate fresh pasta  had the aura and all she wore was a white and black uniform.  The men are stunning.  Even the plain faced, bald ones.  Everyone is clean shaven.  America does not have men who look so fine and so stunning without even trying.  All this is what we are not and makes me suck in my gut and hope for the best.

There are sights to see.  The Duomo cathedral is magnificent.  On the outside gargoyles stretch ominously over the sides, perched everywhere protecting the edifice.  We've seen many grand churches on our travels, but this one takes the cake, or should I say is the cake! It reminds me of the drip sand castles I used to build at the Jersey shore with my daughter.

La Scala is worth the walk up the street. The opera is not playing this week so we settled for a tour of the house and the museum.  Close your eyes and imagine a giant horse shoe of red velvet orchestra seats surrounded with five tiers of box seats and then two more tiers of standroom only.  The gold paint around the hall was subtle but visible.  In the center was the president's box heavily draped and low lighted with a height of three tiers.  Manifico!