Meanderings Through Milan

Pondering la dolce vita

Apr 09, 2023

I’m fresh off the plane from a much-needed trip away from London, having succumb to the allure of Italy’s Lombardy region. After five days of exploring Milan and Lake Como, I have of course only scratched the surface of all the area has to offer, and yet I still feel I am returning with a new air of sophistication (or at least a hope that the locals have rubbed off on me even slightly), and a refreshed appreciation for ‘la dolce vita’- cliché, I know, but bear with me.

This post could easily be one steeped in recommendations for idyllic aperitvo spots, the perfect risotto Milanese, and gelato that you want to eat for breakfast, lunch and dinner. But instead, what I intend to do is offer some reflections on the ‘art of travel’ more broadly (taking some inspiration from a beloved Alain de Botton read) and the musings I can take from this trip - my first of 2023 - into daily life as well as future travel plans.

And, alright, maybe I’ll throw in a few recommendations for good measure.

The Perils of Transportation

The flight to Milan was operated by Ryanair. It ran to time and got us there safe and sound, which is really all you need from a flight. But… couldn’t it be made a little nicer? Grateful as I was for the relatively low cost journey to reach a beautiful part of the world, I couldn’t help but wonder (sorry, inner Carrie Bradshaw kicking in) if the seats really had to be that cramped? Did the doorway to the toilet really need to be so small that it touched both my hips as I entered - and how would someone in a larger body than mine fare with this? Also, what happened to the pockets on the backs of seats in which to tuck your reading materials and bottles of water? Does Ryanair charge extra for those now?

This isn’t intended to be a take-down of the budget airline we all love to hate, but I do wonder why we, as customers, commuters, wanderlusters, are made to endure such uncomfortable conditions in order to see and experience another part of the world, country or continent. Must we be punished in this way for daring to explore?

But then, of course, as I sat feeling low-level grumpiness at trying to balance my coffee on one leg while clipping the seatbelt and digging around under the seat for the book in my bag, I also recognised guilt setting in at how ridiculous it is to feel such dismay. Who am I to complain about feeling a bit squished into a seat, when actually I chose this mode of transport, I can afford to pay for this holiday, I’m digging around for a book from which I’ll take much pleasure, and really I have nothing else to do for the next two hours but relax and enjoy the journey. The trip is my choice to make, one I am taking between jobs and so no-one expects my checking of/replying to emails, and in a few hours I’ll be sat in a fairylight-covered garden (10 Corso Como, since you asked) sipping on an Aperol spritz, chatting away to my partner (who incidentally has already fallen soundly asleep before the plane has taken off - cramped conditions are apparently not an issue for all).

10 Corso Como in all it’s well-lit glory.

All this to say that sometimes, in moments of discomfort or annoyance, it can help to take a pause, a breath, and ask ourselves if the situation is all that bad, or are we focusing too much on the dampened minutiae while the bigger picture is in fact all very rosy. It’s easier said than done, but can be a helpful antidote to the smaller stresses and strains of everyday life.

Elsewhere on the transportation front, a reminder that sometimes we have to go with the flow, and also we’re not the only ones who might feel we lack the knowledge required in a given situation. Having arrived in sunny Milan, the Ryanair dismay long behind us, the local train/metro system proved quite tricky to navigate - even for my fluent-in-Italian partner. After far too long searching various options on one ticket machine, we managed to get from A to B, only to face another kind of ticketing system and confusing electronic signage, to get from B to C.

We asked several passers-by at the relatively quiet station about which route we needed, which platform, which ticket etc., and no one could really give us the correct answer. Despite living or working in and around the area, it seemed we were attempting a journey that wasn’t familiar to locals (or at least those we asked). But, from the various inputs and different suggestions, we managed to piece together a route that worked - which would have been near impossible without asking for help.

Later, having arrived at C, the ticket barrier refused our bits of paper, and so after seeking out the guard, they explained something about needing to have had the ticket stamped but understood we were unaware tourists and let us through without even a roll of the eye. In theory we could have been fined, but, having explained our confusion, the kindness of the guard was another reminder that it’s okay to get things wrong, and the stress of that potential is often unwarranted.

It’s not always easy to think of it in this way when you’ve lugged bags up and down a platform six times, spent all your coins on a machine that seems to have swallowed them without so much as a digital receipt of acknowledgement, and are in desperate need of a toilet trip and gallon of water simultaneously. But, again, in the grand scheme of things, all is well, and people are happy to help.

Also - be those people when you have the chance to help someone out.

Enriching Routines

Another aspect of the trip that’s made me reconsider how I might want to do things, to indeed live sweetly, was noticing the emphasis on eating and drinking delicious fares with other people, literally all day long. Though perhaps emphasis is the wrong word as there was no apparent effort here, it’s just very much the norm.

The coffee and pastry enjoyed at the bar of a favourite hangout (we gravitated to Van Bol & Feste several times) before arriving at the office, perhaps chatting to a colleague, a loved one, or even the barista, seems like a wonderful way to start the day - and a far cry from my usual breakfast chowed down in front of a laptop screen. While such a daily treat might be unaffordable in somewhere like London - especially for millennials who of course must forgo the daily latte if we are to ever be in a position to buy property - even in some Milanese hot spots the combo might cost as little as 2.5 EUR.

Perhaps if not always at my local coffee shop, thinking about not eating in front of a screen is something I really want to adopt more. And not only for breakfast, but lunch too, which can be another bad habit of mine. Having watched people gather around a set table for a hearty portion of pasta or delicious pizza (especially at Gino Sorbillo’s), taking a real lunch break with colleagues or friends, seems like a worthwhile ritual. Lunch is not something to be had quickly between meetings, or on the go while running errands, it is something to be enjoyed, to feel nourished by, which I think we - or at least I - often forget. Even my treat of an M&S wrap cannot compare to the dedication to good mid-day food I witnessed from Italians this week. I salute them.

Of course, none of this is news - we know the Mediteranean diet works wonders, and have long been told the Italian lifestyle is one to emulate. But on this trip, though not my first to Italy, I think I’ve just been a little bit more intentionally perceptive, wanting to make the most of this pause before a new job, and am thinking about how starting that might coincide with some new routines and a better way of living as I shed old routines.

Plus, it’s spring - the perfect time for new beginnings and all that.

A final point on the routines around eating/drinking - the aperitivo. Enjoyed by many, the post-work/pre-dinner, usually alcoholic, beverage continues the connection of spending time with others while consuming something delicious. Not only does this routine encourage a welcome interval between separate parts of one’s day, but when served in a local bar also comes with an array of snacks - everything from olives to nuts to focaccia to verdure fritte. Is there a better way to spend the early evening? Next time you’re in town, wander through Navigli to find your perfect spot.

While we, in the UK, might pop to the pub for one after work and leave four drinks later, feeling worse for wear and looking to pick up fast food on the way home (happens to the best of us!) this Italian ritual usually stops after one, maybe two, and is drawn out over good conversation and relaxed vibes - with the intention to still eat a wholesome dinner.

This weekend I’m stocking up on Aperol and olives and intending to create at least the occasional aperitivo experience at home.

Being in Awe

Another thing I’ll be taking away from this trip is how important it is to get out of our own heads in order to have a fresh perspective on things, or to be removed from our inner stressors, if only briefly. I’m no expert on this, and though I’ve not yet read them I’m sure others have written much more eloquently on the notion, including Katherine May, Jonah Paquette, and Dacher Keltner. But I can say from experience it’s hard not to be totally consumed by the wonder of your surroundings when exploring the Duomo di Milano (whether inside or on the roof) or the endless rooms at the Sforzesco Castle and Pinacoteca di Brera.

I am not a student of art, nor of architecture, but any muggle only need look up at the ceiling of a building whose construction started 700 years ago to be fully immersed in trying to understand how the hell did they do such an incredible job on the paintwork! Or, while getting lost in rooms full of renowned painters’ religious imagery, be thinking about how much inspiration could be taken from the Bible to create infinite interpretations of different scenes. Or, being flawed by the beauty of luscious green mountains against the blue sparking lake, surrounded by colourful buildings, sipping on a crisp prosecco and wondering which villa is George Clooney’s…

Of course, you have to put a bit of intention into this too. Scrambling for wifi connection, live posting to social media, or replying to WhatsApp messages while wandering through such grand locations will not facilitate a sense of awe. An element of disconnection is needed in order to connect with something other than our own lives, our own thoughts. And so while visiting an incredible cathedral on a daily, or even monthly, basis may not be an option, I think it’s worth us taking time to consider what else might help us plug into this disconnection/re-connection balance. What local exhibitions are on (I always search for free ones!), is there a part of town we don’t often visit, a new route to work we can take. It doesn’t have to be drastic, I don’t think, but putting in a bit of effort to see and think something new, something different - that may facilitate a sense of awe or wonder on even the smallest, but still valuable, scale.

In addition to the sweet pastries, juicy tomatoes and obligatory spritz, surely this must also be key to ‘la dolce vita’?

Milanese Memos

As I look back from pictures of the trip, and in coming days write up my highlights list - something I do after every holiday, replaying the trip in my mind and jotting down key moments I want to remember - I’m sure more elements of note will come to me. In the meantime, I’ll leave you with a few final pointers and reflections …

Italian shoes really are the best - buy good quality ones and you’ll always look put together.
Olive oil on a salad does wonders.
If you can’t decide, order both and share (or enjoy it all yourself!).
Eat fresh ingredients - nothing processed can compete.
A bottle of wine at lunch can be fun, but indulge only occasionally (preferably not before heading to the airport).
Stumbling upon an independent jeweller, learning their story, and investing in one of their pieces you love is a worthwhile momento.