Remember this?
Madam and myself back in the day, I’m the one on the left, sans instrument, the reason why will become clear later in the piece.
The standard proclamation of this house to signify that we have been gadding about again in the name of living for pleasure alone since child A and Child B left home.
Milan and Cremona this time.
Milan because we’ve flown into it several times before heading off elsewhere and we were intrigued to see downtown.
Cremona because a late life project was required and I’d an urge to buy a fiddle to learn a few tunes by way of preserving the grey matter.
But first to the pods.
We were departing from Heathrow T5 and for the first time had booked the “pod parking” An automated parking system that transfers you in space pods to the bowels of terminal Cinque.
Along with Hover shoes, Blue Peter and possibly Tomorrow’s World predicted this kind of caper in the 1970’s.
Well here we are.
Ok’ we weren’t wearing the bacofoil silver onesie with calf length platform boots that Leslie Judd wore to explain the future, but we were in the future all the same. A driverless four seater pod taking us from our own outdated pod with an internal combustion engine, to space city T5.
In your face Tim Peake and up your game Artemis II
Pod parking at 4.30 am, you’ll never feel more alive!
The flight went without real incident bar the burning of some solid gold aviation fuel. Landed in Linate, spent an hour passing over face and fingerprints to border control before catching the excellent Milano metro into town.
Bags stored at a Newsagents near our AirBNB we headed off in search of sustenance and a table outside in the sunshine. Madam and myself are keen consumers of Italian food and wine so we began our quest for a table in the local environs, eschewing all the local Nona produce for a delicious chicken curry that on first sight we had down as a chicken and saffron risotto, which served as a reminder that our Italiano may be a little rusty.
Replete with Risotto, which turned out to be a curry, it was down to the Duomo, which is massive. The largest gothic cathedral in the world according to the late Norris Mcwhirter, parts of it where unfortunately clad in scaffolding, which I’m not sure is what the Goths had in mind, but mightily impressive all the same.
On to the Galleria Vittorio Emanuelle II next. The famous 19th century shopping mall stuffed with designer shops and high class restaurants with no sign of a Millets or Mountain Warehouse. There is however an ornate mosaic floor featuring a Bull whose gonads you are encouraged to stamp on if your shopping trip is to be successful.
We were billeted in an Air BNB a few minutes walk from the gargantuan Castello Storzesco. A leviathan of a fortress first chucked up in the 1400s and impregnable to all of Europe’s finest forces, until somebody forgot to lock the door one night. It is enormous and the local brick company must have done very well out of it’s construction. There is an impressive fountain out front that I imagine was a recent addition.
We paused for a while to people watch, let another lunch go down and take in the swarms of swifts using the castle as a base.
Up on to the ramparts next for some shady respite from bright sun that was pushing the temperature up to the mid twenties. The ramparts afford views across the city, with the gothic Duomo, Ziggurat like in the distance.
Turning one hundred and eighty degrees, we took in the the modern city planner’s obsession with creating a “skyline”. With a nod to the 12th century Asinelli and Garisenda towers of Bologna (see previous guff) this one has been built on the wonk, who knows how the stairs work inside.
The Florentines would never stand for this kind of modern skyline biznaz.
Behind the castle, or North West if you’re of a navigational bent, is the magnificent Parco Sempione. Impeccably kept and well used by the Milanese, we visited over the Easter weekend which is a big time for family gatherings and, in fine weather, picnics were breaking out across the whole park.
And then it was on to Navigli and the canal.
Who knew?
It’s a very old canal, and hey Tom Telford up your game. Leonardo Da Vinci was right across this kind of caper back in the day. First completed in the 12th century the canal linked Milan with the Italian lakes and Switzerland. Leonardo who invented most things in these parts, including a helicopter, last suppers, complicated staircases, spaghetti carbonara and the original C5, came up with an ingenious method in the 1400s of moving more boats up and down hills.
After the glitz and glamour of downtown Milan it was an unexpected dose of “Boho” with an eclectic market and many book shops and well worth a ten minute ride on the excellent Milan Metro.
At the head of the canal, which is full of fish, is a small dock. There is little boat traffic other than tourist trips and rowers/scullers, but parked up in the corner, was the mother of all weed cutting boats.
The biggest I have ever seen in freshwater.
I immediately put in a call to my employer suggesting that this may be the way forward as opposed to my good self blundering about breathily with a blunt scythe.
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Milan done, on to the overground rails for an hour long ride to Cremona.
A different vibe (I believe this is current parlance) to Milan.
Very laid back with lots of old stuff having avoided the bombs of World War Two, unlike Milan.
It’s got a very old Duomo, plus a three hundred foot tall clock tower with accompanying Baptistry.
The town’s principle claim is violin production by some cove called Stradi Various.
During my recent bout of Pneumonia, high fever and sweats, a wizened musician appeared to me one afternoon and insisted that the fiddle was the way forward if redemption and possibly good health were to be restored.
I’ve been down this road before with the guitar following a similar bout of the Screaming Oojahs when Bert Weedon came to me in a dream.
I thought it went well and definitely had legs, but familial reviews were mixed, so after a decade the Gibson Epiphone Sheraton VSB, wah wah pedal and practise amp were traded in for items more sensible and less musical.
Always a trier and vulnerable to visions I entered the Luthier’s den and swiftly exited stage left after being informed, following a brief try out, that I was completely unsuited to the instrument.
Much to Madam’s relief.
With Fiddling dreams dashed, it was in to the town.
Somewhere between Winchester and Salisbury in size, it is a great place to spend a couple of days.
Very laid back, like many Italian cities they like a tower. All of the Cremonese towers are “bob on” with no hint of a lean.
Food and wine were more than fine, well it’s Italy. The weather fantastic and we met some nice fun people.
Back on the train and metro to Linate before a flight back to our pod, where we donned our suits and helmets to re-enter the earth’s atmosphere.
The pod’s heat shield performed as expected and we parachuted serenely down into the pod park and our rescue craft home.
I didn’t expect the effects of zero gravity to have such an effect on my musculature, and it may be a while before I recover full strength and mobility.
NASA reccomend a period of rest, a controlled resumption to normal duties and the purchase of a weed cutting boat,
which I am more than happy to comply with.
Thanks as ever to everyone who held the fort at home with regard to The goons, the cat and the chickens.
