You must see the Castello, the hotel receptionist said, shaking his head sorrowfully. You can’t come to Milan without seeing the Castello.
The cultural contrast after crossing the Alps struck me forcefully at moments like this. In Liechtenstein’s little corner between Switzerland and Austria, a restaurant dinner cost triple (10 EUR, say, for a plate of pasta in Tirano — 30 CHF if you were lucky at a sit-down restaurant in Liechtenstein). On the other hand, the sun-swept cities of Italy couldn’t quite match, it must be admitted, that same sparkle of care and cleanliness.
Above all, the German-speaking staff had regarded me with polite distance, making themselves more invisible than not. In Milan, my newfound friend fetched out a map and planned my itinerary, suggesting enough sites to occupy me for several days.
The next morning, after I tore myself away from Il Duomo, I went to see the Castello.
Castello Sforzesco: a massive Renaissance fortress emblazoned with radiant suns – the family’s emblem
Galleria Vittorio Emanuele II: the lavish arcade adjacent to Il Duomo, lined with luxury good shops and designer labels
a delightfully eclectic church just yards from my hotel – if only I’d had a chance to peek inside!
My whistlestop tour closed with a meander down la Naviglia, among the riverways lacing the modern city – which now sprawls far beyond its original borders. I had breakfasted at 7am, worshipped at the cathedral at 8am, and now it was nearing the hour of noon. A brief metro ride away, the airport gates awaited me.
At times like these I comfort myself with this thought: it’s always good to have a reason to come back.
Nice