Milan was never meant to be a major stop for us. It was the entry point, the soft landing, the place where we would collect our bearings before heading north. One night at a hotel near the Duomo, a good dinner, and an early start toward the lakes. That was the plan. As it turned out, Milan deserved more time than we gave it, and it was gracious enough to make a strong first impression anyway.
The Arrival
Malpensa airport operates at a different pace than any American airport I have been through. Calmer. Less urgent. The signage is clear, the trains run, and nobody is shouting at anybody. We cleared customs without incident, found our luggage intact, and made our way to the express train into the city with the kind of efficiency I had not expected to feel on Day 1 of a four-week trip.
The kids, who had slept on the plane with the supernatural ability children have to fall asleep anywhere, were in reasonable shape. The adults were running on altitude and adrenaline and caffeine. We checked in, dropped bags, and immediately went looking for pizza.
The Pizza
There is a thing that happens when you eat pizza in Italy for the first time. It is not just that it is better. It is that it reveals that what you thought was pizza before was a different food entirely, one that merely shares a name. The crust. The ratio. The restraint in the ingredients. We ordered four different kinds and ate standing up at a counter near our hotel, too hungry and too tired to find a table, and it was the best meal of the trip so far.
My youngest declared it better than any pizza ever made. He has made this declaration before about other pizzas. This time I think he was right.
The Cathedral at Dusk
We had enough energy after dinner for one thing, and we chose the Duomo. It is the kind of building that earns its reputation. We did not go inside. We just stood in the piazza, in the long July light of an Italian evening, and looked at it. The kids were uncharacteristically quiet. Even the fifteen-year-old, who has developed the teenage gift of looking unmoved by things that are clearly moving, was staring.
There was a busker playing something on a violin near the far end of the square. There were pigeons. There were tourists from approximately every country on earth. And there was this cathedral, which has been standing there since the 14th century and is going to continue standing there well past any of our plans for it.
The best thing about arriving exhausted to a beautiful place is that your defenses are down and you feel everything more directly.
Practical Notes on Milan as an Entry Point
- Malpensa is efficient. The express train to Centrale station runs every 30 minutes and takes about 50 minutes. Skip the taxis.
- Stay near the Duomo if your budget allows. The immediate walkability changes your experience of the first day significantly.
- Eat pizza on arrival. Not a restaurant recommendation, just a principle. You landed in Italy. Act accordingly.
- Do not try to do too much on Day 1. Jet lag is a real thing with kids. One good dinner, one landmark, bed by 9 pm local time. Tomorrow comes fast.
We were asleep by 9:30. All five of us. Tomorrow we were heading to Lake Como, which had been on my list for longer than I am willing to admit in a public forum. I was too tired to be excited about it yet. But I got there, alone in the quiet of a Milan hotel room, just before I fell asleep.
Where We Went
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