Milan and Lake Como

 Our mini Grand Tour of Italy was coming to an end. We had seen the art, admired the architecture, sat in churches, ate pasta and drank wine in the squares. Now we were in Milan, and it was as though we were back in modern time. There were cranes and cement mixers, refugee Africans selling tiny strands of beads, people busy going about their business. We felt as though we had stepped out of a golden bubble. We did go on a city tour bus, but were disappointed that the recording just pointed us to the sculpture that had been voted the worst in the city, and then she pointed out a mile of fencing with graffiti, completely ignoring Leonardo Da Vinci’s giant bronze horse. We were whipped around the famous AC Milan football stadium, and I looked at John and he looked at me, and I think we were just ‘toured’ out.

Walking back to the hotel we saw a pair of socks abandoned on the pavement, and John commented, very wryly, ‘Someone’s been laughing too much!’

We did walk down the Corso Buenos Aires and Corso Venetzia and met up with old friends, Arcimboldo’s creations. I have introduced so many children in my various classes to his wonderful fruit, vegetables, flowers and fish, all turned into portraits! Now here they were solidified in stone!

Milan is said to be the one of the high fashion capitals of Europe, so I got my hair cut, and two very cosy puffer jackets that I took great pride in modelling outside the Prada Store!

The Duomo put all other Duomos to shame. It rose like a dream creation in pink marble with 135 filigree spires and 3200 statues. The details of the relief work around the doors were exquisite. Going inside I felt I had entered a forest of stone trees, as the columns and pillars seemed to dwarf us all, but ahead the largest stained-glass windows in Christendom glowed with crimson, yellow and blue light, and drew the eye ever upwards.

The sobering statue of St Bartholomew stands towards the right of the apse.

He is skinned alive, as he is always depicted, and as Michelangelo painted him in the Last Judgement in the Sistene Chapel.

The statue in Milan, however suggests a growing interest in the anatomy of the human body. Every vein and sinew is cut into the stone.

We did not have time to visit Leonardo’s Last Supper; instead we took a train to Lake Como.

Oh how lovely!

There were mountains in the distance, pretty pastel-coloured houses rising steeply up the hillside, and the sweetest town with a history of being the best silk in the world.

We walked leisurely round the marina,

and came to the Funicular railway, which chugged its way up to the top of the hill in seven minutes, and we were treated to the most beautiful view. We had lunch naturally in the Ristorante Bellavista, and ate wild mushroom papparadelle and drank our last Spritz Aperol. The sun shone and we relaxed and felt we had come to the end of our Italian holiday in true style.

What a wonderful month, we had seen so much and learnt so much, and on a cold miserable day in the future, I know we can just close our eyes and conjure up any of the images we like, and it will all come alive again.

And what is more, I rubbed the wild boar’s nose, and that means I will return one day!

And here I am, back in Edinburgh, and really life is not so bad!