Milan and museums
I realize it's only 4:56 pm as I begin writing this. I had just finished showering—this, after more than 24 hours of air travel, walking, getting lost, and saying "grazie," one of the very few Italian words I know. When delivered with my faux Milano inflection and my genuine Filipino smile, "grazie" can do wonders. The Italians are a charming and gracious people who respond well to thanksgiving.
I am now about to sleep and skip dinner—most restaurants are closed on Sundays anyway, and I don't want to return to Duomo, in the city center, just for a meal. When I barged in a neighborhood trattoria, the beautiful lady bid me come, only to tell me that they were closed for the day. Sunday is extraordinarily quiet in Milan.
I realize that even for my standards, 4 pm is quite early. It is typical of Italian winters to have long nights and short days, apparently—a foreign concept to someone like me who has spent 99.9% of his life in the tropics where these things generally don't matter.
I flew a few days earlier to make good use of my weekend. The main reason for this European foray is to attend an immuno-oncology conference in Geneva, where Harold and I will be sharing the results of our study on pancreatic cancer. I will be meeting Harold in Switzerland on Tuesday where, he told me, it is already snowing. I'm grateful to have worked with him on a number of research projects, and I'm proud of him as a colleague and friend.
This morning I went to Duomo. It was beautiful the way Gothic cathedrals can impress with their intricate patterns and ambitious motives.
Here is the panoramic view, best viewed through Flickr.
I went to museums. This was Leonardo da Vinci's sketch at the Biblioteca Ambrosiana.
This was Rafael's cartoon, The School of Athens.
I also visited Filippino Lippi's L'Annunciazone exhibit.
The museum tour was in Italian, but I was surprised at myself that I could understand what was going on.
I dropped by Galeria D'Italia along Piazza Scala to look at the Thorvaldsen sculptures and other artworks.
I had an overload of artworks and paintings, so it amused me to hear Mariah Carey's "All I Want For Christmas Is You" in the background.
Praise God for His goodness in bringing me to Italy this weekend!
I am now about to sleep and skip dinner—most restaurants are closed on Sundays anyway, and I don't want to return to Duomo, in the city center, just for a meal. When I barged in a neighborhood trattoria, the beautiful lady bid me come, only to tell me that they were closed for the day. Sunday is extraordinarily quiet in Milan.
I realize that even for my standards, 4 pm is quite early. It is typical of Italian winters to have long nights and short days, apparently—a foreign concept to someone like me who has spent 99.9% of his life in the tropics where these things generally don't matter.
I flew a few days earlier to make good use of my weekend. The main reason for this European foray is to attend an immuno-oncology conference in Geneva, where Harold and I will be sharing the results of our study on pancreatic cancer. I will be meeting Harold in Switzerland on Tuesday where, he told me, it is already snowing. I'm grateful to have worked with him on a number of research projects, and I'm proud of him as a colleague and friend.
This morning I went to Duomo. It was beautiful the way Gothic cathedrals can impress with their intricate patterns and ambitious motives.
Here is the panoramic view, best viewed through Flickr.
I went to museums. This was Leonardo da Vinci's sketch at the Biblioteca Ambrosiana.
This was Rafael's cartoon, The School of Athens.
I also visited Filippino Lippi's L'Annunciazone exhibit.
The museum tour was in Italian, but I was surprised at myself that I could understand what was going on.
I dropped by Galeria D'Italia along Piazza Scala to look at the Thorvaldsen sculptures and other artworks.
I had an overload of artworks and paintings, so it amused me to hear Mariah Carey's "All I Want For Christmas Is You" in the background.
Praise God for His goodness in bringing me to Italy this weekend!
1 Comments:
How's Italian coffee? Australia's strong coffee culture is from Italian migrants.
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