Mark's 60th - Milan
Our last stop before flying home was Milan, which we reached by train the next morning. We planned the first day around the magnificent Milan Cathedral and the Galleria Vittorio Emanuele II, the four-story glass-domed arcade of the most elegant shopping you can imagine. (Mark is eternally grateful I'm not a shopper.) Our favorite spot in the galleria was the Bar Camparino where we sat at our little table watching the motley crowd - and imagining Verdi and Toscanini chatting right there after their performances at La Scala. Toscanini was the focus at La Scala's Museum, and I thought of Mom and her albums of the great conductor's recordings. We stood in line at La Scala for tickets to the opera and were thrilled to get seats for La Boheme. To be at La Scala seeing Mom's favorite opera -- well, it was a special night.
Our next experience was equally one-of-a-kind. We walked from our hotel to Santa Maria delle Grazie church and the adjacent Dominican convent to see The Last Supper. Having purchased our timed-entry tickets ahead, like the rest of humanity, we sat in the waiting area for our turn to be admitted. Twenty-five visitors at a time were allowed to enter - first, into an air-tight dehumidifying chamber. We walked in and the doors closed behind us. After a few minutes, we were directed to a second dehumidifying room before we finally entered the refectory. There on the far wall of this simple, spare room stretched the masterpiece painted by Leonardo da Vinci, between 1494 and 1498. Despite its faded appearance (apparently because Da Vinci did not paint it using proper fresco techniques), The Last Supper is still luminous and breathtaking. It's a sight you want to take in slowly, like the Sistine Chapel, and we were thankful for the fifteen minutes allotted us. We afterwards walked to the Pinacoteca Ambrosiana, an art gallery established in 1618 as part of the library. The Musician by Da Vinci, other paintings by Botticelli and Caravaggio, and white marble busts of Dante and Da Vinci complemented the beautiful architecture.
Of course, the architecture and opulence of Milan's Duomo is the most impressive in the city. For over 600 years it has stood proud as the fifth largest Christian church in the world. Its 135 gargoyles and over 3000 statues, its 52 pillars and glittering stained glass windows, and the rooftop views among the spires (you can reach the top by stairs or elevator) make the cathedral one of the most magnificent. More humble is the Basilica di Sant'Ambrogio (St. Ambrose is the patron of Milan), but its simpler beauty really touched us. Mark and I took our time here, admiring the Romanesque architecture (dating back to the 12th century, when it was restored for the final time from the original 379-386 construction by St. Ambrose). We explored the crypt where the remains of the three saints venerated here -- Ambrose, Gervasus and Protasus -- are stored. Apart from the beautiful main altar, the individual altars along the outer aisles of the church are small jewels. These were the inspiring setting for our prayers for Mom. How she would have loved the solemn beauty of this place. That evening, for our last dinner, we chose a little, family-owned restaurant where we sat next to this gentleman from Rome. He hilariously compared his city to Milan, which he said you could tour in a day. Rome would take you months, he said. (Of course, he had a point.) We got on the subject of Pope Francis, and he recommended "The Young Pope" with Jude Law, evidently having no problem with irreverence towards the Papacy. We kept up a lively conversation during dinner, which turned out to be a personal goodbye to Milan, and to our very special trip for Mark's 60th birthday.
