I’d chosen to stay in my hotel one more day just to try to make life easy. Today I ended up heading into the old town in Milan and this foray helped me realize at least partially why I was likely feeling so drained by this city. It’s because I had been spending time in what felt like the newer section of town - while it still had some lovely architecture and scattered parks to behold, it had none of the character of old town Europe that I truly love. Where I had been, the car was dominant but in the Brera district, the narrow, windey, cobbled streets lent a completely different feel to the experience and I felt transported to another place where cities were built around people.
I was enjoying this walk immensely until it started to grow a bit more upscale and suddenly I found myself in the ‘Brera Design District’ and was surrounded by every top name in fashion you’ve ever heard of and a whole lot of names that I’m probably way too uncool to have heard of. I was the only person wearing shorts that was under 20 years old that I’d seen in days - and I’ve seen a lot of people. As I made my way closer to the Duomo (the cathedral), the capitalist temples grew in scale and despicableness, at least in my mind, and I was surrounded by a haven of overpriced commercialism. It’s now reminding me of the Biblical tale of Jesus throwing the merchants out of the temple. I guess that one’s been forgotten in Milan for as I approached the astoundingly overdone and magnificent Duomo, I saw it adorned with a giant advertisement for Converse! Can you believe it? Well I guess someone’s gotta fund the upkeep of the building.
The plaza surrounding the Duomo was immense and impressive. Full of people, I soaked it in for a bit. There must’ve been a soccer game going on because above all the hustle and bustle was the continuous drones of drunken fans dressed in their teams red and blue vertical striped jerseys.
I stopped into the Duomo for a few minutes and was touched by the scale and craftsmanship. It baffles me to think that humans have created these edifices - and with little more than some basic tools and their hands. With a ceiling that must’ve been 100 feet high, massive stone columns and domed arches supporting the roof, nearly floor to ceiling exquisite stained glass and just about any other craft related embellishment you could imagine, the Duomo represented the height of architectural expression and religious fervor. I sat in a pew and soaked it in for five or ten minutes, enjoying the cool air that the immense slab of thermal mass provided. The experience really extends beyond words.
Returning to the outdoors really felt like re-emerging from a cave - a whole new world. I kept on meandering for a bit and gradually made my way back to my hotel on foot. I covered nearly 20 miles total. That’s a lot of walking.
Well, I can’t believe that I forgot, but somehow he managed to slip my mind. Probably one of the most interesting encounters of the day was a chance meeting with Emidio the barber. I’d been considering a haircut ever since I started staying in hotels and seeing myself in the mirror on a frequent basis. Then, after spending several days walking the mean streets of Milan, I started to think that perhaps it was a good excuse to see what a Milano barber might be able to do for me. With some time in the afternoon on my way home, I figured why not give it a try?
I’d passed this barbershop a few times on my way home previously and decided to stop in. I asked the man if he spoke any English and he said no but I figured we’d still figure it out. The place was basically empty except for one other man who was hanging around. Emidio got me set up in the chair and soon enough we realized that Spanish was to be our common means of communication.
He was a talkative guy and we had a great conversation - a really good connection. He told me about the years he’d spent living in Costa Rica - he’d actually purchased a hotel there at one point even. A native Milano (not sure if that’s what they call themselves but…) he’s been cutting hair for 13 years. We talked about work, the economy, life in our respective countries, his current relationship woes and at one point I was almost convinced that he was taking extra time to cut my hair cut to keep the conversation going. And I forgot to mention that I had him give me a shave as well. It had been over a month since my last shave so my beard was pretty full. He gave me the straight razor treatment and didn’t even nick me once (though he did have to tell me to shut up a few times so he didn’t cut me - but he shouldn’t have been prodding me with questions.)
His helper was a young woman from Russia that he repeatedly gave a hard time calling her a communist and I shared the small amount of Russian that I remembered from college. Well, it was a really great experience altogether. He gave me a hairwash ‘gratis - para ti’ - free for you and really seemed to appreciate me. But then I saw the finished product. It didn’t look anything like the people on the streets of Milan - in fact it’s probably one of the poorest haircuts I’ve ever gotten. Not that he messed up significantly, just that his vision and mine seem to clash completely. When he was finished he said, ‘you look like a …’ I couldn’t figure out what he’d said. Eventually I realized he said that I looked like a Marine - now if there is one thing that I don’t want from a haircut I pay someone else to do, it’s to end up looking like a friggin Marine. Not really sure what to do except to try my hardest not to look in the mirror until it grows out, I left on good terms and didn’t have the heart to tell him what I really thought. I’m really glad we had the exchange and I’ll certainly remember it for a long long time. If I’m ever in Milan again, I’ll definitely drop in to say hi but I’ll never stop in for a haircut!
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