Milano and Around
City Break
I don’t think I'm REALLY in Italy
yet. I am in a 'European City,' just like I am when I'm in Brussels
or Munich or Paris. There are familiar shops in familiar places.
There is a station and a line of hotels. There is the historical
centre and the big church in the middle. There is the posh bit with
nice shops. There is the theatre bit. There is the trendy bit, there
is the ugly bit.
Once you've been to enough of these
places you know exactly what to expect. You develop a routine, you
see things in a normal way and so the whole point of travel becomes
lost. Yes the shops will be different, the cathedral a different
architectural design and there will be a slightly different culture,
but fundamentally you are in a 'city' and it is the same all around
the world. You aren't broadening the mind, only colouring in a few
spots.
Not all cities are like this –
Berlin, New York, Ghent – but many, many are and they're so well
packaged that as a tourist you are unable to do anything else. There
is no personality. The soul is buried so deep that it impossible to
find.
So I go to the Duomo. Magnificent. I
walk through the Prada and Armani shops. Luscious. I visit a
restaurant. Delicious. I look at the people. Impeccable.
I take photos and I feel happy with
myself. I am 'doing' Milan. It is as I hoped and more.
It is exactly what I should think it
is.
But...but the more I walk around, the
more it doesn’t feel right. Milano isn’t the catwalk model I
thought. The package is not quite as it looked in the picture. The
buildings, the shops, the restaurants, they are fine, but there is
something that doesn’t fit the image I had been sold.
Its the people.
The people are not as they should be.
I walk through the Sforza castle, which
is not exactly the Milan I expected, and emerge into a leafy town
centre park – bandstand, café and boating pond et al. It is packed
full of young locals, sitting around, smoking, drinking, playing
football, smooching. Mouths laugh, eyes glimmer, bodies recline and
everyone relaxes and enjoys the sun.
I cannot see men combing their fringe
or sticking out their pecks, or women adjusting their sunglasses or
crossing perfect legs. Everyone seems too happy, too busy eating ice
creams or opening beers and laughing at a new joke. Pleasure is
simple and unfettered. A sunny day in the park. What’s not to like?
Where are the designer labels? Where is
the style and the swagger? What happened to the tight chinos and
stilettos?
I sit and open my own bottle of Peroni.
Why not? What else are you going to do? Pose in the mirror?
If this is an introduction to Italy
then I like it already. Nothing humbles you like a good kick-about in
the park.
Style and Substance
Let me put it this way. Milan does have
a lot a nice looking people and, yes, most of the time they are
impeccably well dressed and groomed and they smell great. However it
isn’t the same as we see it. There is nothing supercilious going
on. It isn’t posing.
Dressing up is the way to enjoy an
evening, in the same way an ice cram by the fountain in a Piazza is
the way to enjoy an afternoon. It is a good way to spend time. The
idea of Milanese glamour and sophistication is true but it should not
be seen as something superior or exceptional. In the trendy Breda
restaurant on Saturday night, amongst extraordinary dresses and
styled hair, I see the same smiles I saw in the park earlier. It
isn’t a window display. It is people having fun.
So I guess this is what I have taken
from my early impressions of Milan - that sitting outside your office
in Prada suit eating an ice cream is a perfectly normal thing to do,
and that it is better to do this in the company of others, even as an
adult.
I think of the Piazzas, where this all
happens. What is our equivalent?
A Hobo in Milano
I like walking
around town but not going into shops
I like listening
but not understanding words
I like sitting
outside the Scala in my cycling shorts
I like looking at
the beautiful women
I like not being a
part but being there all the same.
Is this the reason
I am sat her alone with no wife, no kids, no career and no house? Am
I playing a solitary game? Am I too scared to ever accept the rules
and join in the game?
Am I taking the
easy option?
Of course not.
When is riding 700 miles on your own in a foreign country ever the
easy option?
It is only seems
that way because I understand what it entails. Things can happen but
I am no longer worried about them. They just are. When it rains you
will get wet. When you get a puncture you have to fix it. When you
ride up a mountain you need to work. Don’t get het up about it.
Put energy in the right place. Keep believing. Not everything is in
your control, but belief is. You will get tired. You will get
worried. You will get scared. Embrace the chaos.
If you can do that
then one day you will have flamingos in your garden.
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