BootsnAll Travel Network



Milan

We got to Milan early to do some internet stuff, grab lunch, and get a sneak peek at Italy’s big business capital before ringing our next Servas hosts’ doorbell. Irene (pronounced “ee-rin-ay”) greeted us with a big smile and a curiously Russian tinge to her English. Her and her husband Federico are the parents of 1 year old Gabrielle – Italy’s biggest Teletubbies fan and red bike helmet aficionado. Gabrielle’s incoming teeth would keep him and everyone else awake most of the night (despite the splash of Grappa added to his formula,) but you couldn’t help but feel sorry for the little guy.

Irene and Federico are great cooks and veteran Servas hosts who know how to take care of their guests. Irene, a native to Milan, mapped out a very entertaining day for us despite the admittedly watered-down beauty of her city. Her self-guided tour took us through the duomo business district and into the funky bohemian part of town that serves as Milan’s only refuge for the young and hip. It has an “oasis of weirdness” vibe that any Austinite can appreciate.

Compared to all of the other Italian cities we have seen, Milan is definitely the ugly duckling. It’s a big industrial city parked within a Mom ‘n’ Pop country, a bulldozer parked in a garage full of old Vespas. People live there for the jobs, not the atmosphere. A flood of tourism has covered most of Italy forcing engineers like Federico to seek higher ground in Milan.

Irene’s three years in Moscow explained her Russian accent and the intimidating bottles of vodka in her cupboard. We all took a few swigs of the Ruskie liquor later that night to help sleep through Gabriele’s dental battle-royal that never came. He slept like a rock after having worn himself out the night before (plus I think Irene upped the Grappa dosage.) Much to my surprise, Federico asked if I wanted to watch an American baseball game. He and a handful of other Italians have admired baseball ever since the Italian broadcast of the Subway Series. I don’t exactly follow baseball these days, so all I had to offer him were my pathetic stories of little league mediocrity that unfailingly ended in the coveted “Most Improved” trophy.



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