Coffee and culture

 Sunday 10 May

Up early for a miniscule and over-priced hotel breakfast, then made my way to Piazza Mercantil via the metro to meet Maria, the guide for the coffee and culture tour. We met within a colonnade overlooking the old square which was the scene of humiliation for merchants in debt back in the day. They would be stripped naked and made to break their own table to show that their career was over. Nice. No debt counselling and payment plans in those days.

Maria's a Neopolitan but moved to Milan some years back, having decided to make a career focusing on coffee expertise and turning it into a guided tour. We visited a number of highlights while learning about coffee, its origins and processes, and had coffee in three different shops. The first was unsurprising Caffe Napoli, where I enjoyed an espresso made the Neopolitan way, and paid for a second "sospiso" - a coffee made later for free for someone who's on the streets and needs it. It felt like the right thing to do.

The second place was at Lavazza, where I foolishly agreed to try something I knew I'd probably hate - basically a mocha with whipped cream which was sickly sweet. I won't be doing that again. The third coffee, at Bighletta, the home of the Moka pot, was a lovely surprise with a hint of (but not overpowered by) lemon - tiramisu, coconut and almond were also available, but I'll stick with my no-mess, no-fuss Nespresso capsules rather than having to deal with watching a pot boil.

Sightseeing highlights included the exterior of the Duomo, the Palazzo Royale (started by Queen Marie Catherina, but actually completed by Napoleon in neo-Classical style, then heavily bombed during WW2 - so much of Milan was partially destroyed that way), Leonardo's statue flanked by his apprentices, and of course the heaving Vittorio Emmanuelle arcade (the template for all shopping malls that followed). Milan, Florence, Rome and Turin are all commemorated by their crests on display in the central cross of the four paths through the building representing the unification of Italy, but apparently the rivalry between Milan and Turin was so strong that Milanese women  would come and grind their heels in to the bull of Turin to show defiance and cast a spell to make them bring forth more menfolk for the glory of Milan. There were lots of young women doing it during shopping hours, most of them clearly not from Milan.

Tour over, I wandered down Via Dante, popped into Sephora (always take that opportunity) and towards the Sforza castello piazza - I'd visited it when I came in 2014, but today it was pissing down with rain, so I decided to have some lunch instead in Farinella, and very nice Cacio e Pepe it was too. 

I had a ticket to see a new exhibition of work by Anselm Kiefer, The Alchemists, featuring women throughout the ages (though not too recent)  who practised alchemy and healing - as always, incredible in terms of their scope, size and the variety of materials used to achieve 3D pictures that come towards you.

The exhibition of 35 works was held in the Sala delle Cariatidi, part of the Palazzo Royale which was heavily bombed during the war. Most of the figures around the wall are still awaiting restoration, but it's a great setting.

 Coincidentally I first came across Kiefer's work in Milan when on the advice of my Air BnB host I visited The Seven Heavenly Palaces at Pirelli Hangar Bicocca, a set of permanent  monumental installations - here's an Insta post (not mine) showing you these amazing structures: https://www.instagram.com/reels/DL7V1RboaI-/

I got to wander through some parts of the palazzo on the way out, which was worth seeing, including a very grand staircase. But it was still raining, so I decided to double up on the culture and visit the Museo Nova Cento, which features art from the beginning of the 20th century, focusing on Futurism initially but then broadening out to include Cubism and other progressive art forms. There were a few pieces by the likes of Picasso, Braque and Kandinsky, but most were Italian artists and I was particularly taken by the work of Boccioni (who died very young, and who painted the blue view of fog below) and Sironi. There was a huge range of work on display - and for 5 euros ridotto admission for being old, it's great value as there's so much to see and it's very well laid out and still in development. I enjoyed the collection of 20th century designer chairs which formed one of the final displays.
I've seen the bronze sphere with teeth by Arnaldo Pomodoro in other places, including Pesaro in Puglia and in the Vatican gardens.

I then had a ticket for the Hi-Line - a metal walkway that goes across the roof of the Galleria Vittorio Emmanuelle offering amazing views of Milan's skyline, including a final terrace at the highest point with the best possible sighting of the Duomo. (Its marble facade, by the way, will always be being cleaned as the pollution etc oxidises the beautiful streaked marble delivered all the way from the Piedmont region. I had hoped for more of a garden, like the hi-line in Paris that starts near Bastille - there are plants along the way though, and there are plenty of infographics to give you the history of the Galleria and the creation of the walkway itself, but the audio guide failed which was supposed to have given me insights as I walked along. Never mind. Very sad that the architect/builder fell to his death from scaffolding just hours before the Galleria opened...

After a search for a recommended pizza joint proved fruitless as there would have been a hour to wait til opening time (despite Google claiming that it already was busy at 5pm), my by now pretty wobbly legs settled on SignorVino near the Duomo. It's a chain, but as the name suggests they're very good at wine, so the restaurant is kind of an adjunct to its main retail business. I had a lovely pinot nero and a plate of melt in the mouth proscuitto, and a little caprese on the side. Then it was time to haul my weary arse back to the hotel for catching up on the blog from the day before (it's how I roll) and packing my bags ready for an early start to catch a train from Centrale to Vicenza next day. Just hadn't thought about the fact that Mondays are a bad day for finding Italy open....

Bimbling in Bergamo

 Satruday 9 May

Back on the coach for the last time for a few sunny hours in Bergamo, or at least the old town. After stashing my luggage at the bus station (6 euros for a locker for 5 hours), orientated myself across the road at the train station, and then joined the group on the shuttle bus up the steep hill to the old town. It's a beautiful walled city - as with Brescia, the Venetians were the dominant tribe back in medieval times and their influence and architectural style is spread far and wide throughout northern Italy and beyond.

On this particular day the financial police cadets were passing out in all their finery- bottle green uniform, epaulettes, swords and all, and with senior officers in cockaded helmets. It meant the square was a bit congested. The financial police are basically concerned with - um - financial matters, like making sure people pay their taxes and retailers issue receipts, and presumably they investigate fraud, though presumably not in extremely fancy uniforms that are vaguely reminiscent of Fascist troops...no photos I'm afraid, didn't seem to be the done thing.

Kim and I separated from the group as I needed to leave early and we thought we'd make our own way round. This consisted mainly of bimbling about the shops with a little light retail therapy. We also went to the basilica which was free to visit that day, and the interior was quite breathtaking, as was the surrounding piazza.

We went to a nice restaurant and sat outside with a refreshing spritz (my first Hugo, very elderflowery), followed by a glass of bianchi and some casacelli pasta, then I picked up a caffe gelato on the way to catch the bus to the station around 2pm and we said our fond goodbyes.

The bus was rammed and seemed to stop every 30 seconds, but I collected my luggage, heaved it across the road and got on the Bergamo - Milan train in plenty of time. It's just such a shame that Italian local trains force you to heave luggage up steps not just to get on the train but to get up to a seat. The train left and arrived on time - took about 45 minutes.

I'd already worked out how to get to the Hotel Soperga - a relatively short walk from Centrale but a very sweaty one with luggage. It's clean but very no-frills and with a really hard bed, not helped by thin walls and noisy neighbours slamming doors.

I dumped bags and headed straight off for Lareto Metro about 10 minutes' walk away to go a few stops on red line M1 to Duomo, as I'd managed to get a ticket for the last entry of the day. It is impressive - maybe even more so than Sagrada Familia on the outside - and I was treated to hearing a mass being sung by the choir along with the organ (not the ancient one with thousands of pipes). The most wonderful stained glass windows are a feature of the cavernous interior, but sadly a mobile phone camera can't do them justice.

I was a bit jiggered so I went and found a shop to buy a boring salad and a soft drink to have in my room for supper - having had a good lunch it felt a bit much to have a sit-down, and it would do me no harm to stay off the sauce for one night. So I started watching Legends on Netflix, did yesterday's blog and had an early night ready for a guided walk in the morning.

Being on my own is feeling liberating, though at the same time a bit lonely. Some of the people on the tour were really nice and good fun, but there were others who I found so irritating when they wittered on - like the woman who said "awww" very loudly every time the guide said something nice, and those who just did not stop talking about the same thing over and over again (like the van not backing up on the hairpin bend so the coach was blocked, or that it was all very nice being shown how to make pasta but she always bought hers in Waitrose, and that she had been to lots of wineries and they were all the same.) And those who never listened to what the tour manager told us and then asked what time we were meeting and where. And the guy who kept referring to himself as a wurzel from Bristol and JL people as executive types. And it was a big group of 40, so even if divvied into two, every walk was an amble, and people still weren't taking in their surroundings unless pointed out by the guide. Yes, I know my tolerance threshold is low, so that's why solo travel works for me!

I think another time, I need to entertain the notion of only groups of 10 or less as we had in Turkey, on the basis that had this tour been any longer in duration, I might have accidentally punched someone...

Sounds like fresha

 

Friday 8 May - happy birthday Sir David

Lovely sunny day today which saw us back on the coach headed for Brescia (which is pronounced Bresha), Lombardy's second city, comprising about 190,000 inhabitants. There's a swishy shiny glass financial district, but the old city is a beautiful mix of architctural styles reflecting its varied past - Roman remains included (it was then known as Brixia), many of which are housed in a museum which we sadly didn't have time to visit. There's also a rather splendid restoration project going on too. 

We were led on a guided walk by Alessandra, a colleague of Barbara's, and we got some fairly detailed info about the city and its origins. There's an old circular cathedral (Roman origins, with mosaics which would have been interesting to see had it been open!) right next to a "new" one with dome which was started in the 1600s but took about two centuries to complete.

It's easy to follow a walking route linking the beautiful piazzas in the city (and there's also a UNESCO corridor linking the museum to the Roman ruins which we walked through), and you're rewarded with some amazing municipal buildings, churches and some quirky oddities too. 

One of the loveliest squares is Piazza Loggia, which along with the town hall and a zodiac clock complete with life-size bronze bell ringers, commemorates a far-right terrorist bombing atrocity in 1978 which killed a dozen protesters, with a fitting memorial on the site of the device and where they fell.

We moved on to an homage to Fascist architecture in Piazza Vittorio, where Mussolini had his own red marble "pulpit" built (really rather attractive), together with a beautiful Post Office and an early skyscraper.

A couple of quirky arty things there too (don't worry, it's a rhino sculpture) and a very well-stocked Italmark supermarket full of lovely products, including Kim's favourite soap only available in Italy...

After a wander round and a bite to eat, we walked back through the old town to the bus station and were then taken to Cascina Carretto, an organic Agriturismo winery (and wedding venue) which harvests grapes by hand in August and produces Franciacorta sparkling white and rose (definitely NOT prosecco, which is made very differently) and a red - the latter was quite cheap and had rather a funky aroma. We had a tour of the vineyard and the cellar, and a very detailed explanation of how the wine is made. Obviously I can't remember all the details, but let's just say it's very painstaking in order to get the balance of acidity and sugars absolutely right. 

We had a small tasting of three of the wines - quite severely rationed (Neil - not like the Gambini brothers on Mt Etna in 2014!!), and although I really liked it, was a bit out of my price range and I wasn't about to be hauling it around northern Italy over the next 10 days. Quite a few people did buy though, as I'm the only one in the party staying on to travel further. 

We were also given a massive buffet with lots of lovely food - the meats actually come from the cows and pigs reared on the land, and we also got to see those. Like most faint-hearted meat eaters though, I would rather not have been acquainted with the poor beast providing my supper - I know, such a hypocrite.

We were back at the hotel around 7pm for more food at 8pm, this time a heap of meat which one of the waiters had spent hours barbecuing. I hadn't eaten that much at the winery but could still only manage about half of what was put in front of me (especially as I was craving vegetables), which I hope my thickening waistline was grateful for. (Shame about the half bottle of pinot nero I did manage to neck.) We also had some light entertainment in the form of singer Simone Salvi who had a wide range of backing tracks and performed requests. As he was performing right beside our table, I couldn't be too rude and kept my eye rolling to a minimum.

We settled up our rather substantial bar bill for the week and I had a relatively early night to progress my packing for the trip to Bergamo next day - the end of Kim's short break, but the beginning of my solo trip.