Italy Travel Diaries: Ciao Milano

It’s still early morning when Mr Fletche and I land at Milan Malpensa. The warmth of the Italian sunshine on my poor, Vitamin-D deprived skin sends a ripple of energy through my drained limbs and I’m ready to face the trip into the city. By the time we’re through passport control our suitcases are already making their trip around the luggage carousel. The Milan baggage handling staff are very efficient. We were hoping to kill an hour or two at the airport as it’s still barely dawn. There’s little chance of us being able to check in to our hotel. After all, we haven’t even reached check-out time yet.

From airport to city in 30 minutes

Maybe the Milan public transport system will let us down. Fingers crossed. There’s no chance of confusion at the ticket machine, instructions are clearly labelled in English and we are soon clutching our Malpensa Express Tickets. Maybe the train will be delayed. Nope. The train is already at the platform. And it’s the correct one, heading to Milan Cadorna rather than Milan Centrale. Within half an hour of touching down in Italy we’re on our way.  We’re pulling into Milan Cadorna just 32 minutes later.  At this rate, we’ll be at the hotel before breakfast has even been served.

The metro from Cardorna to Cordusio is just as swift. We emerge blinking from the underground into the Milanese sunshine. We do manage to waste a good two minutes identifying which of the streets radiating from Piazza Cordusio is the right one. If we’d looked up one way we would have seen the Duomo looming in the distance.  If we’d looked the other we would have seen Castello Sforzesco. For now though, we just want to find our hotel and drop off our suitcases. There will be plenty of time for sightseeing later on. Our suitcases are obstacles intent on tripping up anyone and everyone in their path.  A “scusa” here and a“mi dispiace” there and we make it to the Hotel Gran Duca di York.

The Grand Old Duke of York hotel

Mr Fletche launches into an apology about how early we are and could we just store our suitcases and freshen up. The receptionist utters just four words: “Your room is ready”.  I refrain from kissing the receptionist, instead we grab our key and bundle our inappropriately large suitcases into the lift. We love this hotel already. We love it even more when we enter our room and find that we have a tiny little patio. And free soft drinks in the mini-bar. And slippers. These somehow fall into my suitcase at the end of our stay.

Now we can relax. But not for too long. We have a single day and night in this city so there’s no time to enjoy our tiny little patio, our free soft drinks or even our slippers. It’s time to explore. We’re off to find the Duomo. Instead we find Basilica San Lorenzo Maggiore. In the opposite direction to the Duomo. It’s apparently the oldest church in Milan, but we don’t linger too long. We’re on a tight sightseeing schedule. Although there’s always time for food. Our colazione at Birmingham Airport seems like a lifetime ago. Panino Giusto meets our basic needs (bread, meat, beer) and we’re good to go again. In the right direction this time. This lengthy diversion was probably not the right occasion to break in my new shoes.

A whistle-stop tour of Milan’s finest sights

We retrace our steps, and lo and behold, we find the Duomo. About five minutes from our hotel. What’s a mile long diversion between friends? Mr Fletche is used to my navigation skills by now. Or lack of. We mingle with the selfie-stick sellers, waving their extendable contraptions at Mr Fletche. Not sure why they think his big camera is going to fit on that.

The Duomo is an impressive sight and we look forward to scaling the terraces later.  There’s more of Milan to see first so we say ciao to the selfie sellers and amble through Gallerie Vittorio Emmanuele II. I gaze in the shop windows and dream. Prada. Gucci.  Dolce & Gabbana. Louis Vuitton. We’re not in Birmingham’s Bull Ring anymore Toto. 

We pay a flying visit to Piazza Della Scala, which is underwhelming, and then on to the Brera district. This would be the perfect place to return for dinner as there are loads of little bustling cafes and restaurants nestling in narrow streets and alleyways. My feet don’t agree though as it seems a long walk back in the 30+ degree June heat. Back at the hotel I am immensely grateful for both the free soft drinks in the mini-bar and the free slippers. Just a short nap before dinner maybe…

(2 hours later)

Fresh as a daisy, I’m raring to go again. I replace my “very comfortable but slightly rubbing” shoes with “slightly less comfortable but no rubbing bits” shoes. Now we have our bearings we head straight up Via Dante towards Castello Sforzesco. 

Milan is bustling in the warm early evening sunshine; we mingle with tourists and locals alike enjoying gelato sitting around the fountain at Piazza Castello. We grab a granita – like a slush puppy – and head through the courtyard to Parco Sempione. It’s the perfect place to spend a balmy sunny evening. There are people walking dogs, throwing balls and Frisbees, jogging, or just relaxing on their own or with friends.  Had we another day in Milan, we would have lingered longer, maybe traversing the narrow tree-lined paths down to the Arco della Pace at the opposite end, or taking the elevator to the top of the Torre Branca. But there are sights still to see, and rumbling tummies to satisfy.

We end up at the first restaurant which catches our eye on Via Dante. A light meal is in order; we simply order abruschetta and insalate from the antipasti menu. It satisfies our hunger. The vino rosso is wonderful. Let me state for the record now – all the wine was good. White wine. Red wine. Sparkling wine. There is no bad wine in Italy. And when it’s cheaper than water, well, you drink wine. Lots of it). We sit and watch the street entertainers. This consisted of a man sitting on a stick held by another man. Just sitting there. For hours. 

Bored by the entertainment, we head off on our next adventure. For 13€ we can get the lift to the rooftop terraces of the Duomo. Or for 8€ we can walk. Never one to let unsuitable footwear get in the way of a challenge, we opt for the stairs. 200+ steps and one blister later we’re at the top. It’s pretty spectacular up there, surrounded by spires, marble and gothic architecture. All bathed in a wonderful amber glow as the sun lowers on the horizon. There are surprisingly few people joining us on our rooftop expedition, and I’m glad we’ve chosen this time of the day to do it. The staff kindly invite us to descend via the elevator. This is a welcome alternative to the descent by winding staircase.

Rooftop cocktails

After our descent we decide to ascend once more, this time to the rooftop cocktail bar of La Rinascente department store.  The outside terrace tables are all taken, but we’re seated close to the big glass windows overlooking the spires of the cathedral, tracing the path of where we stood barely half an hour ago. It’s a pretty magnificent view to enjoy alongside our cocktails. The cocktails are pricey but we get a feast of exquisite-looking and tasty morsels on the side. It’s practically a three-course meal, therefore it’s value for money. We both agree that one night in this city is not enough.

We wake in the early hours of the morning to find the room momentarily as bright as daylight. It takes us a minute to realise we’re not being abducted by aliens, instead we’re in the middle of a quite spectacular thunderstorm. Later on we find only a slight glistening on the pavements as a remainder of the turbulent weather overnight. No need to pack up the sandals and break out the wellies just yet. We have breakfast, and then take a final pre-check out walk to the souvenir stalls at Castello Sforzesca to pick up the obligatory fridge magnet souvenir. My feet are swaddled in plasters and my pink pumps, lime green socks and flowery summer dress combo make me look as if I have escaped from some sort of tragically unfashionable care home. Milan. City of style and fashion.

Only the bare essentials have been taken out of my suitcase for one night, yet the contents already look like a Primark 50% off sale has occurred in there overnight. Mr Fletche smugly congratulates himself on neatly rolling all of his clothes. We check out, still thanking the staff profusely for our unexpectedly early check-in the day before.  We take the Metro from Duomo to Milan Centrale, and await our train for the next stop on our grand Italian tour – Verona.