Milano Mania

After leaving Turin - home to Fiat, Martini and Lavazza, I arrived on the 11am morning train (7,90 euros) at Milano, the fashion capital of Italy which was also ditched by the locals so tourists like me could have the city to ourselves. I got a lot of help from the kind tourist office lady at the colossal centrale train station and reached my pitstop Zurigo, a 3-star hotel (promo 65 euros) after 4 Metro stops. It was centrally located so I lunched on some pesto pasta (5 euros) and walked to the Piazza Duomo 5mins away. This was my first time in Milan (I only transit at the station in '97) but it looked pretty compact from the map.

Everyone was hanging out at the Piazza Duomo and I was happily aiming my camera at the square when suddenly this guy came up and thrusted some corn kernels into my hand and held it up for the peckish pigeons! I was cringing as the birds' claws were scratchy and in my head, I was thinking 'bird flu' but he held my fist tight and refused to let go and kept asking me to take a picture of the f%cking birds. What made it more irritating was he demanded 2 euros from me for the 'photo-opp' but I told him firmly 'no pictures' and finally relented with 1 euro as he got too bloody persistent.

I joined the queue and entered the duomo by the west entrance which was still under restoration but you could admire the glorious Gothic east end from Corso Vittorio Emanuele, a busy pedestrian street lined with cafes and international boutiques (from Max Mara, H&M to Furla and Zara). Lured by the smell of coffee, I had a caffe latte at one of the sidewalk cafes where the old waiter was so chee koh peh - he was hugging and grabbing the flabby arms of this fleshy American lady customer while her mother (about his age) looked on in encouragement! She was enjoying the attention and giggling and I wondered why he even fancied her till she got up from her seat and showed off her pair of 'melone'.

With no fixed agenda, I followed the crowd into the covered arcades of Galleria Vittorio Emanuele to Piazza Scala (teatro) and Via Mercanti, the medieval heart of Milan recognisable by the ancient brick building. From there, its a leisure stroll down Via Dante, another lively pedestrian avenue to the grand castle - Castello Sforza - with its brick walls and fortresses.

Detouring for a cup of refreshing limone sorbet to cool myself in this heat, I made my way to see the Last Supper by Leonardo Da Vinci but the Cenacolo was fully booked for the weekend. F&@k! It turned out you need to call to make advance reservations as they only allow 25 persons to enter the sacred grounds every 15 mins. I was so disappointed even the shopping arcades with its summer sales failed to cheer me up.

A friendly Italian guy tried to chat me up when he saw me checking my map and inquired 'Sei Filippino?'. I shook my head and pretended to talk on my mobile phone. I must admit it'd so easy to pick up the guys here but I was not about to take a chance and found my body unrecognisable, all chopped up in nine pieces flowing in a river! Despite my very bad grasp of the italian language, some words were drilled into my head by now:
"Buon giorno/ buona sera / buona notte!" (Good day/ evening/ night!)
"Come stai? Molto bene?" (How are you? Very good?)
"Non parlo Italiano!" (I don't speak Italian)
"Vorrei un coke e pasta, per favore! Grazie! (I'd like a coke and pasta please, thank!)
"Vaffanculo!" (F@*k off is also useful!)