The Chinese boy didn’t make a peep all night after his first few bouts of yelling and the ride was peaceful all night. There is nothing like sleeping on a night train in Europe. The rhythmic sway of the cars and the hum of the rails is the equivalent to white noise. The complimentary breakfast consisted of a single slice of toast, several slices of apple and pear garnished by a single grape, matchbook-sized chocolate pastry, a small glass of orange juice and a tiny pot of tea. It is no wonder the Italians don’t have an obesity epidemic – they eat like birds and walk around all day up and down stairs and all over town. My calves have been sore every single day so far and I figured I’d have gotten used to it by now. Hopefully, they won’t hurt in a couple of days.
Stazione Centrale, Milan’s main train station has received a major face lift over the last several years. Where there were walls and open space, retail shops have been added. Centrale used to be a simple station to navigate with no signs necessarily because the ticket counters, bathrooms and other serviced were in plain view. We spent 25 minutes looking for a bathroom until we finally found one with a line about 20 people long. We waited 20 minutes in a line that was swollen with about 100 people in front of us to buy tickets. Because the services have deteriorated to the point where they can’t serve the current demand, a small group of entrepreneurs has appeared to take advantage of the excess of clients that the authorized ticket booths can’t accommodate. This unassuming man asked me if I needed help and brought me over to an automated ticket machine. I was under the false impression that we needed to go to a window because we had Eurorail passes. He showed me how to choose where I wanted to go, how to set the departure date and most importantly how to insert the Eurorail code (printed on the pass) so as to discount our tickets. While he said his service was free, the “ticket rogue” accepted tips and I tipped him 3 euro (about $3.50).
We headed to dump our luggage off at the lockers and spent another 15 minutes following signs that seemed to point at each other like a cartoon. When we finally arrived we were once again dripping with sweat. We’d carried our bags up and down hundreds of stairs looking for the lockers and when we arrived a small sign was posted next to the hours of operation: “Sciopero Oggi” (strike today). I had forgotten that strikes occurred on a regular basis in Italy and shut down everything from trains, to planes to cement workers. I convinced Carolyn that the panzerotti at Luini’s was worth dragging our bags into the metro.
We bought four tickets for the yellow line and headed to the piazza del Duomo. After four stops we got off the metro and headed up another couple hundred stairs. As we began to exit the metro we saw the magnificent structure of the Duomo in the sky before us. It stood in the square adjacent to the Galleria. Easily singling us out as tourists, the Africans approached us immediately trying to tie bracelets around our wrists as we tugged our luggage up the last couple of stairs. We said “no” repeatedly and finally they relented and walked off toward other tourists.
We were starving and sweaty once again. In fact, if our travels were put to music and we were to give them a name, the album would be called “Hot and Hungry.” The Duomo was filled with tourists from all over the world, much like the one in Barcelona at the Sagrada Familia. When facing the Duomo, if you go left along the church and then turn left after three streets you’ll be on hallowed ground. The restaurant Luini has been making panzerotti and selling them here since 1949. It is the only place in Milan that is worth traveling four stops on the metro during a layover. We ordered two fantas and 4 panzerotti, 2 with tomato sauce and mozzarella and 2 with prosciutto and mozzarella. The tomato and mozzarella ones are by far the best. Unable to find shade along the steps of the Duomo we sat in full sun and baked as we ate our lunch. The square was active with Africans selling bracelets and putting pigeon food in your hand and then asking for euro after you’ve fed the seed to the birds. Tourists were snapping pictures in front of the Duomo and we snapped a couple ourselves before we headed back to the metro and back to Centrale.
The are a couple of places that should be visited by everyone that intends to go to Milan and they don’t disappoint. The Duomo (four stops on the yellow line from Centrale. Costs one euro to get there and one euro to get back), Luini’s panzerotti’s, Michelangelo’s L’Ultima Cena (The Last Supper) and the Galleria. Inside the Galleria are many shops but most importantly is Il Toro (the Bull). This bull has a huge indent in the marble floor where his testicles are. It is common knowledge in Italy, if you walk past this bull and step on his testicles, it will increase your fertility. If you don’t step on them yourself it is still makes for an amusing sight. Italians will walk out of their way to come over and step on the bull’s testicles, give a small spin with the ball of their foot and then continue on their way as if nothing of importance just happened.
We made it back to Centrale and boarded a train for Genova, and specifically, Stazione Principe (Prince Station). The famiglia Canepa has beena longtime friend of mine and we are looking to crash their tonight and tomorrow night. It will be nice to see them again and so good to take a shower and do our laundry. (I’d forgotten how muggy Italy is in the summer. And I’d also forgotten that Italian’s don’t believe in air conditioning – even in first class. It’s a balmy 80 degrees inside the train with windows that aren’t designed to be open)
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