Milano a Lugano

From Malpensa to the Glacial Lake

This vacation had to be one of the most anticipated trips I have taken thus far. I had never set foot in Europe aside from airport layovers, you can imagine. I was thrilled to hear that I could visit Italy and make my way to Switzerland with a Schengen Visa. This one stamp granted me access to any European country, whether a member of the Union or not. I am a summer child who has associated the most colorful memories of my childhood with summertime in the northern hemisphere. July presented an unforgettable itinerary I eagerly awaited to exploit on one of the hottest summers Europe experienced until that point. It was deja vu mixed with rebirth when I looked out the passenger boarding bridge windows at the Malpensa Airport (MXP). That classic smell of heated asphalt and fresh air with an Italian flavor hit me before entering the airport for a brief moment. There was almost no memory of what had happened before I boarded the plane and now. It was as if I teleported here. My uncle, who lives in neighboring Switzerland, had an exciting stay planned out for me. He was to receive us from the airport here in Milan and drive us to his home. Although most of my time was going to be in the land of chocolate, watches, and banks, I had my sights on this elegant cosmopolitan city of the Sforzas.

Milano is the capital of Lombardia (Lombardy) and the second most populated Italian metropolis. The city is characteristic of the elitist northern half of the peninsula. Milano is the industrial and financial center, where some of the most prominent home-grown enterprises attribute their roots. It is a powerhouse and the most affluent city in the country. Folks here walk with pride and make a point to display their sophistication and refined taste. One of the appeals here is Italian food and haute couture, casual wear, streetwear, and the sight of so many fashionistas parading the cobble alleys and ceramic-tiled malls. The collective attitude towards dressing up can be infectious though vain. Graffiti writings and murals are abundant, especially around the railways and bridges.

It was good to meet my uncle and his family, who welcomed us with open arms. They picked us up, and we drove to our hotel to drop off our luggage. I vividly remember the lively banter on the airwaves. Radio talk show conversations are very animated in Italian. The melodic language is very hypnotic and immersive. Who knew time could stand still in an urban area with a calming sight of trees on the sidewalks with few passersby relaxing in the summer warmth? We checked into the UNAHOTELS Scandinavia, where we were greeted by the laid-back atmosphere of the lobby area and shown to our rooms. After a quick rest, it was time for the first meal before tying our tourist boots. We went to the nearby Bar Atlantic Losanna across the street and treated ourselves to dishes that would redefine our standard for Italian food. Tagliatelle and Lasagna are classic must-tries, and our first swing hit a home run. Buonissimo! So delicious and well-made. We rested in the hotel and headed for the city’s biggest attraction – how original, a cathedral!

Piazza Del Duomo cathedral, Milan (2023)

After feeling well-rested, we marched with our heads high towards the Duomo to see what the fuss was. We were already in awe as we trailed the side façade of the massive structure. And so we faced it with our heads high and far from our jaws. What magnificence. I couldn’t believe the amount of detail and precision at such a grand scale. No wonder locals are proud of this behemoth; it is a stunning feat of gothic and renaissance architecture. There is a notable human resembling figure at the very top of the front façade of the basilica – the Madonnina Statue. Once made of pure gold but now plated, following multiple attempted thefts, they say she shines like a star in the night. We strolled around the piazza filled with hoards of gullible tourists and those leeching off them. Tour guides? No, Pigeons, of all beings on this planet. I had a benign phobia of pigeons and any unpredictable bird with undeveloped motor function. This was a nightmare as my company went straight into the mess to get the "full experience" of feeding birds in front of a world-famous cathedral. I just couldn’t see the connection, but I faced my fear for the first time. Pigeons flapping their wings and gliding by me, left and right, above and below. We went into the Galleria Vittorio Emanuele II – a shopping mall. This is where one can see the modern Milano clear as day. The ground floor consisted of Italy’s true crown jewels – Prada, Versace, Gucci, Dior, Louis Vuitton, and so on, asserting their monopoly over the central space. We dodged that and went into a cozy gelateria to have some ice cream and coffee – Italian style. That was most of the day in a nutshell. The following day would change my life for good.

A peaceful night passed, and the morning sang new beginnings. I am not much of a football (soccer) fanatic nowadays, but I love the sport very much. I wasn’t the type to support my local team, but whoever played the most captivating game with flair at the time captured my heart. For those uncertain about where I’m going with this, I’ll spill the beans and say Milano is home to two giants of world football. They are competing rivals and sworn enemies that ironically share a home. This derby can sometimes spiral out of control and require authority intervention. The A.C. Milan stars were like superheroes to me. I couldn’t believe the day had come when I could visit my dream pitch. The plan was to start driving after lunch. We hurried and grabbed our luggage because this was also our last day in Italy. We parked our car at a train station parking lot and took the metro to the San Siro. The previous UEFA Champions’ League Final had taken place here, and the remnants were clear and visible. We walked out of the underground station, and behold… a sight that I wouldn't forget unless I tried. It was the stadium with its coiling pillars on all corners. The museum here is a hot destination that shelters the rich history of two giants who boast an impressive collection of trophies separately and combined. I witnessed such greatness in one room split into two sections – red and blue. As a “Rossoneri”, I started from my favorite side and made my way around. Legends from all the decades had their jerseys preserved with pride, and so were their silverware. We toured the locker rooms and then the fan store, where I wanted a €90 new home kit I couldn’t leave with. We toured the grounds (where I was informed Rihanna had a concert the previous night) and left. I started to feel like I was missing out on some key events, arriving at the scene late. Satisfied by our visit and how the trip is going, life had other plans for us without leaving any omens behind.

Galleria Vittorio Emanuele II, Milan (2016)

We returned to where we had parked our car, hungry and tired. What we saw was the last thing we needed on the second day of a trip. We came around the passenger side, only to find the back window shattered and the trunk space exposed. All our luggage was gone, no one in sight, and an ocean of other cars parked around us, unbothered and untampered. It just didn’t make sense; none of us could believe it. Not a single clue and no one was responsible at the scene. Pandemonium hit, and our local guy (the only one who could speak Italian) called the police. It was so ironic to see our panic and shock in a parking lot where you hear more breezes than door slams. Security was very indifferent to responding or being accountable. They are used to this and basically told us to get over it. Finally, the police picked up. Our pleas didn’t register in their heads. They told us to come to the station and file a report, despite the fact that we can’t get insurance to cover the window repair (because that requires a police report). Without a fixed window, it is not allowed to drive. See the problematic circle? Recovering our stuff was out of the picture; we just wanted to leave in peace. I was very naïve for expecting a Hollywood-style 911 emergency response. We drove to the nearest police station with our tails between our legs. It must have been the Swiss license plate that exposed us to a burglary in broad daylight. The police station is terribly maintained, and its bathroom hygiene still haunts me. We collected the police report and left. We still needed to shop for the essentials we needed. I was only left with what I wore and had in my pockets. I always remember how this day shaped my attachment to possessions. What I call “The Lampugnano Heist” only made me stronger and more capable of letting go at will.

All of us were feeling down on the car ride. Gradually, the city seemed like a villain urging us to leave and never return. Despite driving around with a broken window, the summer heat was starting to take its toll on us. Starving and angry, we headed for a shopping mall where we could grab lunch and buy some clothes and toiletry. I had some of the best pizza I had ever tasted. Maybe this was the only thing that could lift my spirit. I never expected the trip to start this way. I also never expected to be served by a Chinese waitress who spoke Italian. I never expected to see dark-skinned Africans working as security guards at rows of clothing stores as if there was no other job they could get. This is one of the truths about the state of the world that I had to come to terms with. It seemed dystopian yet beautiful, fun yet so taxing, almost sacrificial. This city has seduced me in so many ways. The responsive and inviting green-eyed beauties that shyly giggle hearing my English have their charms. The food disarms and soothes your ache and is sprawling in every eatery. We had a long drive ahead of us, and it was time to recover from a setback nobody anticipated. The scenery is poster-worthy; it looks like something out of a postcard. Meadows and vineyards on either side were the last sights I saw before heading into the mountains. Small churches and towns with such a warming atmosphere made me dream of retiring here someday. Italy is so romantic, and I fell under a spell despite everything that did and didn't happen. We headed towards the border and cruised by without an issue. The transition was seamless, and the broken window ended up being a plus. The landscape was drawing us in as we ascended the alps. My uncle wanted to cheer us up and suggested stopping by Lugano, a city in the Italian-Swiss area, just past the world-famous Lake Como.

We crossed a long bridge and had our eyes warmed with saturated green and blue. Lugano was above and beyond what I imagined. You can’t tell this is in Switzerland because it felt so Mediterranean and warm. Well, it is the time of the year and location, but there is something to it that I still can’t wrap my head around. People, I can truly testify, are happy here. Time slows down, and everything feels magical in fairy Disney fashion. Lugano is a small, low-key city on the northern shore of the glacial lake Lugano. Sounds Swiss now, huh? We walked around and took our time exploring the main piazza and inner blocks. There were people of all ages in their best moods. You can find it all here, children running around, sage couples sitting on benches and gazing at each other with dreamy eyes. There are locals and tourists who, like me, were enchanted by this convivial atmosphere. It is as if nothing could go wrong in Lugano. Dare I say it’s all sunshine and rainbows? This is what paradise on earth must look like. We spent some time enjoying gelato and the view by the pier, wondering if the clock even works in this wormhole in space. I couldn’t help myself and opted to take a paddleboat for a spin. I paddled my way into a breathtaking wallpaper. I feel alive; the troubles of Italy are behind me. It is now time to take on the mighty alps to see the world beyond.

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