We arrived in Milan on a 2am bus. It was the beginning of January so the bitter northern air from the Alp's was still lingering in Italy's capitol. The chill consumed us right away, due to the fact we had come from Spain and been adjusted to the mercy of the Mediterranean warmth. In some places there was snow on the ground, my friend and I looked at each other in disbelief. Have you ever seen a postcard from Italy that featured snow?
Upon arriving we hopped on a train towards the city center. There, the Milan Central Train Station blew me away. The immensely tall ceilings took my breath. The goliath of statues of a lion guarding the station made me feel like I was the puny but brave David, about to take on this intimidating city. Due to the bitter cold we were quick to seek refuge in a nearby McDonalds. It was in the dead of night, and the city was just that, dead. It was still very dark, rain had moistened the streets and the locals were all hiding away from the night.. I was wishing I had been as well. A few espressos later and some hours had passed. As light rose through the city streets and began glistening the wet, cold roads, the early commuters began to trickle from the train station as we watched from our warm booth inside the McDonald's across the street.
It was time. We meandered through the quiet, early hours of a winter's Wednesday in Milan. We walked until our feet ached, soaking in every moment of beauty the city's architecture provided. The exhaustion began to set in, at points the only thing keeping us awake was one foot moving in front of the other. We couldn't take anymore, after catching minutes of sleep on bar stools every so often, we had to stop. We decided our plan of action would be to rent a hostel, just so we could sleep for an hour or two! However our wallets couldn't allow it. We began regretting this little trip to the North of Italy.. After all we had meant to be in Florence at this time, yet a drunken spur of the moment idea saw us purchasing bus tickets to Milan minutes before departure. I don't think I've ever felt exhaustion and cold like we did in Milan. It was curiosity for adventure that lead us here, but not even that could keep our bodies going at this point. Our minds and judgement began shutting down, along with many motor functions. We slugged towards the only place we knew we could have somewhere to sit without being asked to leave.... a church.
We finally decided on a burgundy church we found hidden away at the end of a discrete street. It was very large and empty. Other than a few wooden pews and an alter there was nothing else occupying the giant hall. We picked a pew, bowed our heads and closed our eyes. Yet the wrath of the cold would show no charity, as it gained impact on our shivering bodies, for the giant stone conductor we sat in trapped much of the cold air. The powerful sting of the cold reflecting from every stone centimeter of wall and floor then lashing our bodies was unbearable. We hung our heads in a hungover state of defeat. When suddenly the doors swung open and people began flooding in.
We suddenly found ourselves caught in the middle of an Italian church service. I couldn't help but laugh at this predicament. Do we rudely abort and leave in the middle of the priest's and church-goers chants? We looked around for an escape exit, but no luck. The only way out would be to shuffle past the people, down the center alley way and break through the giant wooden barrier of a door. So we patiently sat among the faces buried in bundles of clothing with our heads lowered... possibly in shame at this point. Our thinly dressed bodies must have stood out, because a kind old women asked if we were okay. We laughed and said of course, though we felt like death. However, this women's sincerity sparked a warmth and energy inside me, and for the rest of the sermon I sat peacefully and enjoyed the cultural and religious experience.
Upon arriving we hopped on a train towards the city center. There, the Milan Central Train Station blew me away. The immensely tall ceilings took my breath. The goliath of statues of a lion guarding the station made me feel like I was the puny but brave David, about to take on this intimidating city. Due to the bitter cold we were quick to seek refuge in a nearby McDonalds. It was in the dead of night, and the city was just that, dead. It was still very dark, rain had moistened the streets and the locals were all hiding away from the night.. I was wishing I had been as well. A few espressos later and some hours had passed. As light rose through the city streets and began glistening the wet, cold roads, the early commuters began to trickle from the train station as we watched from our warm booth inside the McDonald's across the street.
It was time. We meandered through the quiet, early hours of a winter's Wednesday in Milan. We walked until our feet ached, soaking in every moment of beauty the city's architecture provided. The exhaustion began to set in, at points the only thing keeping us awake was one foot moving in front of the other. We couldn't take anymore, after catching minutes of sleep on bar stools every so often, we had to stop. We decided our plan of action would be to rent a hostel, just so we could sleep for an hour or two! However our wallets couldn't allow it. We began regretting this little trip to the North of Italy.. After all we had meant to be in Florence at this time, yet a drunken spur of the moment idea saw us purchasing bus tickets to Milan minutes before departure. I don't think I've ever felt exhaustion and cold like we did in Milan. It was curiosity for adventure that lead us here, but not even that could keep our bodies going at this point. Our minds and judgement began shutting down, along with many motor functions. We slugged towards the only place we knew we could have somewhere to sit without being asked to leave.... a church.
We finally decided on a burgundy church we found hidden away at the end of a discrete street. It was very large and empty. Other than a few wooden pews and an alter there was nothing else occupying the giant hall. We picked a pew, bowed our heads and closed our eyes. Yet the wrath of the cold would show no charity, as it gained impact on our shivering bodies, for the giant stone conductor we sat in trapped much of the cold air. The powerful sting of the cold reflecting from every stone centimeter of wall and floor then lashing our bodies was unbearable. We hung our heads in a hungover state of defeat. When suddenly the doors swung open and people began flooding in.
We suddenly found ourselves caught in the middle of an Italian church service. I couldn't help but laugh at this predicament. Do we rudely abort and leave in the middle of the priest's and church-goers chants? We looked around for an escape exit, but no luck. The only way out would be to shuffle past the people, down the center alley way and break through the giant wooden barrier of a door. So we patiently sat among the faces buried in bundles of clothing with our heads lowered... possibly in shame at this point. Our thinly dressed bodies must have stood out, because a kind old women asked if we were okay. We laughed and said of course, though we felt like death. However, this women's sincerity sparked a warmth and energy inside me, and for the rest of the sermon I sat peacefully and enjoyed the cultural and religious experience.
Featured here: Two photos of the quaint streets we explored. In the center is me attempting to stay positive through this adventure!
We ended our day with a stroll through an evening holiday market set up near the Duomo di Milan. We tasted fine pastries and hot wine with a view of this astounding cathedral!