People watching in Milan is not like people watching anywhere else...

[Angela and a man in Army gear in front of the train station by her house.]

I flew to Italy yesterday morning.
After my traveling companion, Juliet, and I arrived in the Milano Centrale train station (pronounced Mee-LAH-no chin-TRA-lay... ahhh Italian), we spent a few hours people watching. We staked out a spot to sit next to one of the main stair cases. Few people go around the side of the station to take the escalator or search for an elevator. Instead, most people take the three flights that lead up to the cavernous space near where the trains leave.

People watching in Milan is not like people watching anywhere else. Being one of the world's fashion capitals (right there with Paris and NYC) and being Italian, the people just look good. They wear stitched leather shoes, mix their blacks and browns fashionably, and never before have I seen such a number of elderly ladys with fur coats and tiny dogs.

One older gent, in particular caught my attention. Even though Juliet was mid-story, I had to hush her quickly, "Juliet, look! Man lighting his pipe, man lighting his pipe!" I forced myself to nod my head vigorously so as to keep from pointing. He was walking quickly enough to lean into the long gait carrying him past us. His brown fedora, brought far down onto his forehead, had a ribbon of warm color where the leather strip usually buckles. He carried a leather bag in one hand and used the other to light the wise-looking wooden pipe held between his lips. I could see the strong flame flicker from his movement but, as if he often successfully lit his pipe on the go, he had no problem puffing out the first bits of smoke before he left our line of vision.

That night we at italian pizza (hand made and wood-fired by some really kind Arab men), drank wine and made our own focaccia bread with Angela's family's olives. Today we slept in (Juliet and I had only had a 4 hours of sleep traveling here) and then traveled out! We had cappuccinos in a cafe by the train, visited the Castello (several museums inside), walked to the Duomo, listened to a pianist in the cold, and ate the best Italian gelati.
I love Italy.

[The side of the Castle...]


I know I haven't blogged in quite some time. Juliet took a few minutes and blogged last night. She inspired me.