by Maureen | May 17, 2013 | Canals, Design, Discoveries, Featured Articles, Incredible Locations, Journal, Milano, Photos
(Click on each image to enlarge it.)
17 May 2013, 3:03 p.m. – Milano
The nightingale is singing in my courtyard and the sun is shining. The air is fresh after yesterday’s downpour and wind. The sound of the canalside traffic comes in through my courtyard windows as the city bustles.
I’m waiting for the shops to reopen after their lunchtime closure, so I can go buy a few fixit supplies.
16 May 2013, 10:00 p.m. – Milano
Arrived “home” to Milano this morning on a pouring-down-rain day. Long travels and lack of sleep over the last few days have left my brain foggy. It’s a wonder I can speak any Italian at all!
Got a few groceries of my favorites: freshly-sliced prosciutto, bresaola, mozzarella di bufalo, smoked provolone, pecorino sardo (meat and cheese theme), plus cherry tomatoes, songino salad greens, Barillo arrabbiata sauce, taggiasche olive oil and balsamic vinegar.
After a good nap, I went to recharge my Italian cell phone, then came home and messed around with getting online. Now I’m all set up and it’s time for a good night’s sleep.
Buona notte.
16 May 2013, 9:25 a.m. – Milano
Milano Malpensa Airport on a pouring-down-rain day. I’m sleeveless as I wait for the train’s departure to go into the city. I have a sweater and coat to put on against the rain, but I’m plenty warm without the, until I get out in it.
I’m beat. Dead-tired from not having slept hardly for 2 nights. My brain is foggy/rummy.
15 May 2013, 5:15 p.m. – JFK Airport, New York
Sitting and waiting at JFK Terminal in NYC and listening to Paul Simon’s “Slip Sliding Away,” on my way back to Milano. I’m excited to return!
by Maureen | May 16, 2012 | Burien, Featured Articles, Incredible Locations, Introspection, Italy, Journal, Milano, Photo of the Day, Seattle, U.S.A.
Backing up a bit, here are some journal excerpts from March 18, 2012, in Burien, WA, as I reflected on my then-imminent trip to Milan:
“I am now just under 8 weeks away from heading back to Italy. At the 10-week mark I felt ‘the shift.’ I am now straddling the globe, neither fully here nor fully there. I’ve notched up my energy and efforts, my focus, all in preparation for being away from here and returning to a life – my life – there. (When I returned at the end of June last year, I really ‘came back’, emotionally and psychologically. But the shift was palpable 2 weeks ago.)
“So I’m consumed with both preparations and completions, and this state is isolating. No one in my life has such a life pattern or makes such choices.
“From where I sit here in my living room, I look out to only tall firs, Puget Sound, Vashon Island, my bright green yard and rain drops hanging suspended from the Japanese maple. The Olympics are hidden by an early-Spring, leaden sky, but would otherwise define my horizon.
“In two months I will be on the third floor of a city apartment, just off the freeway exit, looking out to my neighbors’ balconies and the courtyard with the garbage bins. The sound of traffic will be ever-present and its grit will filter into my living space.
“The contrast between the two places is absolute. I dearly love my home and its location here. But spending city time in Milan brings something entirely different to my days and my experience. Living in Italy requires that I live closer to ‘the edge’ and that is good (though exhausting over time). It both develops and draws on my inner resources, forcing me to stretch. In the midst of and because of this, I feel exquisitely alive when in Italy.
“I sincerely attempt to have that sense of aliveness while here in Seattle (Burien) but am aware of how different it is. It’s a deeper, calmer sense here.
“I look forward to returning to Milan, to seeing now-dear friends and being back in my neighborhood. I like the life of being on foot, bike, subway or train for all my travels. Thought it is limiting, it is also quite freeing. I don’t mind walking 2 miles for a good loaf of bread, and absolutely swoon over riding my bike into the farmland for fresh ricotta.
“Truthfully, my life in Milan is not the typical Milanese life. They are not all going ‘Tra La La’ as they ride out for fresh cheese! But neither is my life typically American. OK. I seem to make it work and it is envied by many. But this choice excludes other choices I could make; they don’t see what I give up to have this.”
May 14, 2012 – Departure from Seattle, through London, to Milano.
Seatac Airport: One of the public art, tiled columns as I head toward the S Gates at the South Satellite. (With On-the-move smartphone blur.)
Awaiting departure from London to Milano.
"Welcome to Milano", the sign says as I briskly leave the plane and head out of the airport, Milano Malpensa.
Could this greeting be any more perfect as I was leaving the airport, heading for the train into Milano?!
by Maureen | Jun 24, 2011 | Incredible Locations, Introspection, Journal, Milano, Quips, Seattle
Friday, June 24
Just after midnight last night I checked into a cheap motel along the highway in Atlanta.
I had been traveling and in airports for close to 24 hours and I was tired. The muggy, southern air was heavy and close. I had a discount voucher from the airline for one hotel, but while standing out on the curb waiting for the hotel shuttle, a hustling driver from another place came by and said that, instead of my waiting a half hour for the other shuttle to arrive, he could get me to the hotel he works for in a matter of minutes (uh huh. yeah right. sure.) and that they would honor the voucher.
Perhaps not the best means for choosing lodging at midnight in a city I don’t know, but I was full-up with waiting, said “yes” and got into the marked van. He loaded my bag in the back, said he’d return in a couple minutes then I watched as he went off to hustle other women travelers, suggesting that they also switch hotels and ride with him. (Sounds like a scam. He must get a commission.)
I was expecting the hotel to be on some perimeter road across the street from the airport. But we seemed to drive and drive on the highway, getting nowhere. “Hey!? how far away IS this place?”, I asked. He explained the size of the airport property itself and how long it takes just to get beyond it’s borders. It took about 12 minutes and we arrived at the EconoLodge “Hotel”. (Calling this place a “hotel” was a real stretch. More like the “No-Tell Motel”.) I checked in, walked up the stairs and when going along the exterior passage to my room, noticed a dead potted plant in one of the room windows. Apparently there are more than just stranded airport travelers that stay here. Perhaps some folks stay longer than they ever anticipated… and some only stay for an hour. (wink wink.)
I double locked the door, turned on the AC against the stuffy room and muggy night, washed up after the long day traveling, and at close to 1:00 a.m. crashed into bed. The sheets appeared clean. (or clean enough.)
With the alarm set for 5:00, I wasn’t expecting much sleep and indeed, didn’t get it. Anxious to get home, afraid of my alarm not going off and feeling either too chilled or too stuffy, it was a fitful few hours.
Why the cheap hotel? Twenty-four hours earlier, I had hailed a cab in Milano, taken a train to the airport, then waited anxiously for a Milano-Atlanta seat assignment on a Summer, early-weekend morning. Flying standby comes with no assurances. About three minutes before they closed the flight, I was handed a card for seat 5D. I had gotten on the flight (!) and into Business/First Class! For the ten-and-half-hour flight, that was a much-welcomed surprise. I was treated like a queen and would have had plenty of room to stretch out legs twice as long as mine.
I slept some. Put a big dent in a murder mystery and arrived in Atlanta at 3:30 with three hours to kill before the first evening flight at 7:20.
I went from number 15 in the standby queue to number 5… and the flight left without me. The next flight was scheduled for 10:20 p.m. I hung out near the gate with other passengers, both confirmed and standby, and watched my position go from 16 to 5 again. The flight left an hour late, again without me. I had been waiting at the airport for 8 hours.
Stranded standby passengers queued up at the counter for information about baggage that had been checked, hotel vouchers and being rolled-over to the first flights for today.
Arriving at the airport this morning at 6:15, after little sleep and an only moderately-acceptable “Continental Breakfast”, I got through security and to the gate. I started at position number 15 in the list and the attendant at the check-in counter said “I’ll start praying for you now” when I asked her about my chances of getting on. She told me that there were seven flights to Seattle today and that I could hang out at the airport and see if I might get onto one of them. In the meantime, my position in the queue crashed to number 30.
No! I was flying home today one way or another! She told me there were two paid spots left available on the flight. At 7:40, I hustled down to the distant end of the concourse to a ticket counter, bought a ticket for the 8:20 flight and hustled back. I paid enough to gag a horse, but I had spent eight hours waiting and hoping yesterday. I was NOT going to hang out all day just to SEE if I could get on.
I arrived in Seattle at 10:30 and my bags were already there waiting for me.
Good to be home.
– – –
Postscript:
It’s now Sunday night, the 26th. I got to my house Friday at about noon and have had a chance to unpack my bags, restock the fridge, go to the gym 3 nights in a row, mow my lawn, tidy up the garden, sort my mail and see friends. And I’m all ready for Monday morning and back in full swing for work. If I hadn’t bought that ticket, I might still be in Atlanta waiting for a ride home.
Morals:
“That’s why God invented credit cards.”
“How much is my time worth?”
“Friends don’t let friends fly standby.”
by Maureen | Apr 29, 2011 | Featured Articles, Incredible Locations, Introspection, Journal, Milano, Photos
Friday, April 29. The Milanese are still wearing their winter jeans, puff jackets and scarves. I’m wearing black linen capris and sleeveless blouses. I arrived in Milano Wednesday at 9:00 a.m., to a morning warmer than Seattle… yet I’m glad to have brought a little summer jacket.
Robin-like birds started singing early this morning. By the time I looked at the clock, it was 5:00 and they had already roused a chorus. I slipped back into sleep, and when I awoke, it was then the doves I heard, cooing in the courtyard trees.
The sky is overcast. There’s a bit of a breeze, and we had both sprinkles and sunshine by day’s end. The church bells just started chiming. It’s a quarter-til-6:00 in the evening. Why aren’t they waiting ’til the hour?
– – – – –
On Wednesday, the short train ride from the airport brought me to Cadorna Station in central Milano. I caught a cab to the apartment I’ve rented for this week, in the hip-and-artsy Navigli district, just blocks away from my old apartment and one of the grocery stores I always used to shop at.
Late morning, drowsy from the long travel and a little hungry, I went across the street to Trattoria Madonnina with its city-wide reputation… for coffee and lunch served by an unhappy waitress. I sat on the courtyard-side, jasmine-covered patio, with red-checked tablecloths and red, plastic chairs. (The WC is an old-style pit toilet with white, ridged ceramic foot pads for accurate positioning.) The morning was slow and relaxed with a cool, mid-spring sun and Milano’s classic hazy-blue sky. Neighborhood locals passed through the courtyard with their big, round “ciaos”.
I stopped in to the grocery to see my friend, Justine, cutting prosciutto in the meat department. She’s the meat cutter at the store and has the most beautiful smile. It touched my heart that her face lit up to see me and we gave each other an excited, european, two-cheeked kiss and chatted between customers.
It feels as if it’s only been 2 weeks since I was last here. As if I was back in Seattle just to check on a few things and see family, friends and clients. Actually, 9 months have passed since I packed up and left Milano, but it feels like I’ve come home, as I walk these familiar streets and hear the city’s sounds of sirens and courtyard conversations, soccer cheers and scooter accelerations.
In planning these two months, I gave myself the luxury of a fairly unplanned first week here in Milano. I haven’t even told all my friends that I’m here yet, because I haven’t wanted this week to be a full flurry of gatherings. I’ve taken my naps and slept as needed to get over the late-nights’ crush to leave Seattle, the long travels and resulting jet lag. I’ve focussed on getting systems up and running. I reactivated my Italian cell phone with its rechargeable SIM card, unlocked my ancient (1st generation) iPhone (thanks to Luigi) and transferred the SIM card from one phone to the other. I was allowed use of the wifi at the Design School and have spent hours online, sitting amidst design students in the computer lab while I booked air and hotels for Sicily and Puglia for the coming two weeks.
Connectivity-hooked that I am, with no wifi in this apartment, and inconvenienced by only being online when the computer lab is open, I bought a “chiavetta” – little key – from TIM, one of the Italian carriers and the supplier of my cell phone SIM card service. Very patient Valentina at the TIM store on Corso San Gottardo explained my options and then waded through setup with me. I can now use the key modem independent of wifi availability throughout all of Italy (though it won’t work on my iPad because of device power issues).
Logistics. Though vastly less disruptive to my “life system” to come abroad for “just” 2 months rather than packing up and moving here, it’s still a big effort and taxing. How often do I figure on doing this? Once… twice a year? Would two weeks satisfy me? Will I always want a month or two or more? And to what end? Am I naive in feeling I have some sort of tie to Italy and her people, the friends I’ve made here? Am I holding a glamorized, fantasy of living partly in Italy? And where does that come from?
It’s Friday evening and there’s chatter in the courtyard, an enclosed canyon of a space between several of this big city’s 5-story apartment buildings.
Still moving slowly, I’m not compelled to go out tonight. Rather, I’ll make myself a salad of fresh greens, Sicilian tomatoes, long-missed bresaola, scamorza affumicata, some oil and vinegar. Maybe this weekend I’ll head down the bike path on an already-borrowed bike for some fresh ricotta cheese, and then later meet up with a girlfriend to check out the latest art museum show.
Here just two days so far, I’ve shopped for olive oil and intimates, cured meats and internet keys. At a quarter-til-eight in the evening, the doves are cooing again.
I’m back in Milano.
Ciao!
by Maureen | Jun 28, 2010 | Cheese, Food!, Incredible Locations, Journal, Meals, People, Photos, Varenna
How do you give a 13-year-old a whirlwind overview of Milano and other spots in Italy?
I had grown up picking rocks off of Earl’s parents’ waterfront on Three Tree Point, just down from the house I have in Seattle now. (In other words, he’s known me since I was born.) So when Earl decided to take his grandson, Matthew, on a tour of Italy, and knowing that I’m here in Milano, he got in touch with me and we started planning the whirlwind. By the time the trip was only a week away, Earl wrote to say they were “counting the hours”.
The two travelers arrived at Milano Malpensa Airport, jet-lagged but excited. We caught the train into the city, with one minute to spare.
Like Hannah and Zibby two days before, Earl and Matthew’s first stop, with mere 21-pound packs still on their backs, was the Spezia Milano Pasticceria. They needed a little something to take to their hotel room and picked out a dozen sweet treats. (The best in town.)
The guys needed a break after their long travels, and a little freshening up. We met up a couple of hours later when they came over to my apartment just 2 blocks away to “skype” family back home. Then we walked up the canal, Naviglio Pavese, to a pizza restaurant with a wood-fired oven. I don’t know what was so funny, but Matthew enjoyed his 5 cheese pizza. Much of it was packed home though, and ended up in my frigo (and made a high-fat breakfast for me the next day).
Earl and I shared an antipasta plate of mixed cheeses and meats, then a pizza of prosciutto, mushrooms and artichoke hearts.
Still recovering from the trip, “The Boys” called it a night early without the evening stroll along the canal (to the gelato shop), and headed back to their hotel for a good, long night’s sleep.
In the morning, having missed the breakfast part of the “bed & breakfast”, they came to my apartment for made-to-order, prosciutto/grana/peperoni/cipolla omelettes with bread, jam, blood orange juice and strong coffee. Once they had been fueled for the day, we headed for the subway.
It was a day to scout for Leonardo around town; he had lived in Milano for 20 years as a young man and left his mark across the city. Our first stop was the Castello Sforzesco, an impressive moat-encircled castle in the center of town. From there we moved on to The Museum of Science and Technology and its Leonardo da Vinci exhibit.
We saw some incredible models representing the ideas in Leonardo’s Codex Atlanticus!
.
.
We had 3:30 tickets for The Last Supper and needed to check in a half hour beforehand. Their tours are very precise in their beginnings and endings so that they can best control the atmosphere within the chamber that hosts the fragile mural. To actually SEE the original painting, the inspiration for so many reproductions and college lectures, is an experience to add to a lifetime.
Earl and Matthew were both spent after our sightseeing. We each wolfed down a panino of prosciutto, brie and “red mayonnaise” then headed back to the subway. I was heading north to buy our train tickets for the next day, and they were going to test their navigational skills and get themselves back to their hotel. (Matthew had great fun later trying to convince me that they had gotten lost and had been wandering around for hours.)
We regrouped later for evening skype sessions with the folks back home. (At 6:00 pm here, it’s 9:00 am on the U.S. West Coast.)
The big question was “where shall we go for dinner?” With so many options, I wavered in my recommendation, but kept thinking about octopus and potatoes at the Carlotta Café south along the canal. I wasn’t sure how adventurous Matthew would be, but we went anyway, and took a cab since neither the subway nor our feet would get us there easily.
Dinner was DIVINE. If you ever want a good meal in Milano, head to the Carlotta Café! Matthew ordered gnocchi with speck, (like a lightly smoked prosciutto) and rucola (arugula) in a fabulous, creamy sauce.
Apparently, Matthew really liked the sauce! (Matthew! I can’t believe you did that!)
Earl and I ordered the evening special, a 7-course, fish-based meal that kept the food coming all night. At our first urging, Matthew took a little taste of the fresh-caught anchovies and he was hooked from then on. He quickly swooped in on a half dozen of the slim, silvery filets, then scooped up a portion of the much-anticipated octopus and potatoes. I was pleased by his willingness to sample the seafood variety.
Our 29 Euro-per-person meal included:
– “Paper Music” bread, hot, drizzled with olive oil and sprinkled with salt
– Piovra tiepida con patate e olive (Octopus with potatoes, olives and olive oil)
– Alici marinate (Fresh anchovies on a bed of rucola)
– Carpaccio di spada (thin slices of raw swordfish)
– Ostriche (Raw oysters)
– Paccheri all’isolana (pasta, tomato, tuna, basil)
– Spaghetti con bottarga (spaghetti with grated, dried tuna roe)
– Branzino vernaccia (Roasted branzino fish with olives)
– Mirto (an after-dinner liqueur from myrtle leaves and berries)
– Pardule (a star-shaped, pastry desert from Sardegna)
We ordered a nice, chilled bottle of Vermentino di Sardegna vino bianco to go with our seafood.
By the end of the evening we were having quite the time chatting with Erik, our wonderful waiter. When other restaurant patrons ordered a roasted, suckling pig, Erik brought it by to show us. And when it was time to leave, we met the chef/owners and the others in the kitchen, complimenting them on our fantastic meal.
Carlotta Café
Alzaia Naviglio Pavese, 274
20142 Milano
Tel: 02-89546028
The next day we hopped the train northeast, to the town of Varenna, along the eastern shore of Lago di Como (Lake Como). Earl and Matthew were scheduled to meet with a travel group at 5:00 that evening to continue their whirlwind tour. Since I hadn’t seen Varenna before, I accompanied them on the train trip and to their steep hillside room-with-a-view. From their balcony, they looked almost due west to Bellagio (hidden by the 3 tall cypress trees), and north to the town of Varenna.
We had a little wander around the town and a lunch by the lake shore.
After lunch, we walked just around the bend for a treat of pistacchio, coconut and vanilla gelati, which we ate while leaning on the railing looking out over the water. We said our goodbyes, gave each other hugs, and then went our separate ways for our own exploration.
We had two very full, delicious and beautiful days! What an introduction for Matthew – nicknamed “Mateo” – to the sights and food of Italy. I’ll be curious to know what his highlights are.
by Maureen | Jun 18, 2010 | Featured Articles, Graphics, Introspection, Journal, People, Photos
One year ago today my plane landed at Milano Malpensa Aeroporto. I caught the train into the center of town, to the Cadorna Station. It was a hot day. I started sweating quickly. My Irish/German skin was bone white in contrast to all those on the street and I laughed. I was whisked through the city here to my apartment where the French doors were open to afternoon light and air pouring through the sheer curtains.
It’s been a YEAR!
(NOTE: “Tricolore” – meaning “three colors” – is the nickname given to the flag of Italy. The colors are listed “green, white and red” (never “red, white and green”. Currently, many Italian flags are flying or hung from windows and balconies in support of the Italian soccer team at the 2010 FIFA World Cup in South Africa.)
Recent journal snippets:
25 Maggio – May 25 – Milano
“The morning sounds have changed to those of summer. Our days are in the low 80s and I sleep with windows open (until the mosquitoes discover me and even the nights require air conditioning).
The birdsong is loud and constant and a joy to me, as it is in Seattle. The other night/morning, I heard the first bird song at 4:14 a.m (I had stayed up late reading). I hear courtyard neighbors chatting. The drone of T.V. Distant traffic and the passing train. I hear the breeze in patio foliage and sounds throughout the building as people go about their morning. Cars come and go through the courtyard gate. All these sounds move through the ever-heavier, ever-warmer air as summer blooms.
Returning to Milano last week has begun a new stage in my time here. It points out my ease and familiarity with this place and its people. Spontaneous conversations come more readily. What a time to leave now that I’m having so much fun! It’s no longer a daily struggle. (It really isn’t much of a struggle at all any more.)
I’m moving in on the 1-year mark and what a year! What an absolutely amazing time this has been (and still is). I’ve really settled into a rhythm. My Italian has advanced enough that I can discuss more complicated ideas, not just my rudimentary daily needs. This allows meetings and connections withheld from me otherwise. Language lets me in. Without language, one is on the outside.
All of this and now I’m leaving? Now that it’s become “easy”, I’m going?!
Yes.
My Italian Year. Complete with the cycle of seasons, a long, dark winter and blazing summer. Sights to inspire and make my head swim. Food and wine so good that I’m bringing 5 pounds of Italy home around my waist. I have met hundreds of people in hundreds of ways and those meetings are the highlights.”
17 Giugno – June 17 – Milano
“A year ago today I got on a plane after having packed up half my life and given the other half away. My coming felt providential. I was compelled without knowing why. There have been times more difficult than I had anticipated, and other times that will always make my eyes sparkle. I truly believe this has been one of the best things I’ve done in and for my life. How wondrous!
And now, just a little over a month before my departure, I find myself as wide-eyed and seeing about Milano as I was about Seattle before I left. My senses are keen. I’m open to all of it with an intensity. I want to take it all in to carry back with me.
I feel a sadness about leaving. Now I know people. Now my heart is tied. I went out for pizza last night with Ewa, at the same restaurant where we met last July, a month after my arrival: Il Kaimon, (in the artsy Brera district. A street musician played classical music on a violin throughout dinner). Last year I was ecstatic to meet her and Piotr. They were my first spontaneous, independent friends here. Ewa and Piotr have remained friends all this time and their friendship has been a blessing. Ewa has fed me countless meals at their home. We’ve shared language, conversation and confidences. As my language grew, so did the depth of our talks. (She has invited me to stay with her when I return to Milano to visit.)
After our dinner, Ewa and I walked back to her apartment arm-in-arm, in Italian tradition, chatting all the way.”
Ewa was shy about my having the camera out.
– – –
The Tricolore shows up in many ways. Yes, I really did see these two t-shirts hanging out to dry over the canal today as I was riding.
by Maureen | Jun 13, 2010 | Apartment, Church, Food!, Journal, Meals, People, Photos, Shopping & Markets
Sally flew over from Seattle a week ago to share the sights of Milano, the wonderful food treats available and the simple efficiency of my apartment. She came off the plane and out of customs beaming.
We took the Malpensa Express train from the airport into town, and got out at the Cadorna station. We walked out in front so she could see the “Needle, Thread and Knot” sculpture by Claes Oldenburg and Coosje van Bruggen. The knot is across the street, as if the needle had taken a stitch under the roadway.
Our first breakfast was a caprese salad with mozzarella from the farm, lovely ripe tomatos, just-picked basil, served on a bed of songino – watercress – and some freshly sliced proscuitto. Not a bad welcome to Milano!
On Sally’s first day in Milano, we walked over to the Saturday street market where the vendors were selling fruit, vegetables, cheese, meat, fish, clothes and a few household goods. We stocked our kitchen with fresh basil, red pepper, asparagus, spicy salame with fennel, fresh eggs, cherry tomatoes, blood oranges, pickled onions, both “sweet” and spicy olives, burratina cheese, smoked mozzarella, dried figs from Calabria, prosciutto and bresaola.
With hot weather, we opened the french doors and sat on my “shelf”, as Sally called it. Not quite big enough to be called a deck, or veranda, or lanai, it held our two chairs while we put our feet up on the railing. We chatted in the sun and greeted neighbors as they walked past to go dump their garbage in the room below us.
No trip to Milano would be complete without going out for aperitivi. We walked along the Naviglio Pavese Canal and stopped into one of the many restaurants that were hopping and lively on the hot, muggy night. We selected from their buffet of pasta, cheese, meats, pizza squares… and ribs (of all things). Sally’s martini was oddly sweet and not at all martini-like.
Sally enjoyed online communications, keeping in touch with family through Skype and e-mail.
There’s a wonderful graffiti wall outside of a garden center between Corso Como and the Monumental Cemetery. What a great backdrop! This is one of my favorite photos of Sally in Milano.
We just had to take a stroll through 10 Corso Como, the city’s legendary fashion, accessories, art and design boutique. This is NOT the place to pull out your credit card, but rather just harvest ideas for garment design and construction.
We made reservations for dinner on Saturday at Malavoglia where you ring the doorbell to get in and are greeted by bow-tie-adorned owner, Aldo, and a complementary glass of bubbly prosecco. We shared a primo of fresh pasta with black squid ink sauce. It was delicious.
One of the highlights of Sally’s time in Milano was her visit to the Duomo. We spent time in the piazza, “the living room of the city”. We walked its circumference marveling at the variation in details and gloried at the cathedral’s interior. We topped off the tour with time on the rooftop, getting up close to the sculptures, finials and gargoyles, and looking out over the city.
by Maureen | Apr 9, 2010 | Featured Articles, Introspection, Journal
One month ago I wrote this entry in my journal, and am now ready to post it, announcing that I’ve decided to move back to Seattle at the end of July. I now have less than 4 months remaining here, and that perspective is very much affecting my time and my outlook. Sometimes I catch myself already “projecting forward” to Seattle and have to remind myself not to “leave” yet. I want to remain present for as long as I’m here.
– – – – – – –
Journal Entry:
March 9. Near midnight…
I’m going home.
I’ve decided firmly to move back to Seattle and just tonight bought my plane ticket for July 31. (I have another 2 week visit there in May). It feels right, and I’m ready to think of Seattle as “home” again.
I miss my people and my communities. I miss my pastimes of sewing, cooking, gardening. I miss the activities that supported my health and fitness: regular gym time (!!), walking the Indian Trail, sleeping well and without such interruptions. I miss the sense of feeling rooted. I miss sleeping with the window open and walking on the street without holding my breath. I miss the ready fresh air. I miss green and water and private space.
My life was well-wrought, solid, hand-crafted, enviable. I shook it up, and now will return to a fresh slate, keeping, from before, what I most treasure, tweaking what I’m ready to loosen my grip on, and returning to my wonderful home with clear eyes and freshness. I will not simply pick up where I left off!
I will return to Seattle and be very deliberate, very conscious about what goes back into my house and into my days. I won’t be “starting over”, but rather honing, refining, sharpening the character of my life. And I have gathered a great wealth of sensorial texture to carry with me and flavor my direction. It all feels so delicious and full of possibility!
I want to return to Seattle and see my birthplace with the eyes of a newcomer. One friend has offered a walking tour of “100 Things I’ve Never Seen Before in Seattle.” I welcome the visit to “The Wall of Bubblegum,” among the other bizarre and heart-warming treasures on the list.
How will I integrate? I don’t know. I don’t need to know right now. I will have opportunities to express, and ponder, and share, and a greater purpose and sense of things will take shape as I settle back in.
In the meantime, I still have four and a half months here! That’s vastly more than most people will ever have in their lifetime! And I am going to milk this for everything possible. I intend to explore, gather, see, visit, travel, eat, meet, query, savor, learn and relish this great gift of time and place. I am going to fill…my…self…UP!
On Saturday I will attend a textile printing class in which we will use historic wooden printing blocks (1700s and 1800s) from the Zucchi Collection to print/create fabric for future projects! (I love the Zucchi designs from the late 1900s!) I am thrusting myself into design experiences as fodder for my future.
I am photographing with a fervor and dedication known only to the mad, the crazed, the off-the-wall. I want to bring as much of this home with me as possible in digital or tangible or ethereal form. This time will inspire more than I can imagine for the rest of my days, however long they may be.
I feel full and blessed and wondrous. To have “THIS”, when many never do, is beyond my understanding. The greatness is not lost on me; it burrows deep.
In coming here, I stated that: I wanted to live in a foreign country as an adult, with an adult’s perspective; I wanted to have relationships with people; and I wanted to learn another language. I have done all of that, and more than I can possibly describe.
by Maureen | Oct 27, 2009 | Quips, Venezia - Venice
I just received this notice of cheap tickets to Venice, Milan, Florence (and other European cities) on Lufthansa. Now’s your chance!
by Maureen | Jun 19, 2009 | Food!, Journal, Meals
Sono qui! Sono arrivata a Milano!
I’m here! I’ve arrived in Milano!
My plane got in yesterday morning at about 8:30. I found the ticket office for the Malpensa Express train from the airport to the center of town and took the 40-minute ride to Cadorna station. From there, I went to my new home in Milano enjoying and marveling at the familiarity of the streets along the way. I knew where I was! How cool is that!
This fabulous apartment is just one block north of the apartment I had for two weeks last summer, and just a few blocks’ walk to the school, NABA. So I know where the grocery stores are, and the nearest subway station, 4 blocks away. On the nearest street corner is the place where I bought bottled water. Another block away is the “bar” where the guy custom-made me a tosto for breakfast because I didn’t want a Nutella-filled pastry. He took two slices of bread, some prosciutto and formaggio and cooked it for me: a grilled ham and cheese sandwich. (Gotta start the day with some protein, not sugar!)
The first groceries join a few other things left behind. Where did the “America’s Choice” Vinegar come from?!
The first quick trip to the grocery store filled my bags with tomatoes, tomato sauce, pasta, pesto, grated hard cheese, acqua frizzante (sparkling water), butter lettuce, pears, lean pork, fresh mozzarella. Some white and red wine was already here waiting for me.
I puttered around the apartment for a while. Succumbed to the urge for a long nap. Awoke and cooked a bite to eat, then unpacked my bags and settled in. I’m here. I’m home.
