We had ruled out Rome. It was just too much. I guess you know you've had a satisfying vacation when you say, "Ah, forget Rome. Who needs it?" But we did think about going to Stuttgart that night and spending Tuesday there. So we went to look at train schedules and make any necessary reservations. We were also, by this time, out of euro and needing to pay Jacob back for covering us over the weekend.
Thus began the search for cash. Ridiculous. The bank near Jacob's house, with its multi-stage security entrance, sent us away to bring back our passports. So we went back, grabbed our passports, went through the gauntlet again, and up to the counter, where the man, who didn't speak English, now demanded something else. After several attempts to communicate, and me looking helplessly at Greg for support which he could not offer, the man went to his coat, pulled a card from his wallet, and held it up, saying I needed one. Seeing as how I have no idea what this card was, I took my passport, shrugged, and walked out the door. I would have walked quickly, but we had to exit, one-by-one, in stages of security doors. It's much less satisfying when you can't just storm out.
On the way, I took a picture of the sidewalk covered in cars. I love how people just seem to park anywhere here, and sidewalks are also made for driving very small cars into very small parking places. Smart cars are everywhere in Milan.
So we tried another bank. They were much friendlier but not more helpful. But at least their doors were cooler. They were like little Star Trek transporter pods, glass cylinders which opened one side at a time. You couldn't not say "beam me up". I dare you to try. But they directed us to another branch of their office near the duomo, so we headed downtown.
We couldn't find the branch, but we did find, near the duomo, an American Express traveler assistance office. Hooray! We went in, eager to take out money from Greg's credit account and cash my traveler's checks. The lady said, "Sorry, try back in an hour. Our system is down." OK. Classic.
So we went into the lobby of a large bank and asked their information guy. He pointed us to another bank around the corner, a very quaint little place with old creaky, ornate wood everywhere. I was slightly wary because in Venice, the place I found tried to offer me 40 euro, after fees, for $100. I politely declined and thanked them for offering to ream me. But after finding out this place in Milan was actually fair, I cashed my checks. Woohoo! I've never been so happy to sell my dollars for beans. At least I got a fair rate of around 1.56 dollars per euro.
On the way back to Jacob's, among other fun conversations, I said to Greg, "You know, they're going to want to know what our plan is when we get back." We procrastinated deciding. I believe it was on the way up the stairs that we made a tentative decision, which we stuck to. We were staying in Milan and going to Stuttgart the next day. The train schedules just worked best that way, and I was in the mood to linger in Milan a bit. Besides, I wanted to go back to Chocolat for more gelato and the chocolate tort I had drooled over.
Jacob was now at work, so Austin, Greg, and myself set out for the bone church, San Bernardino alle Ossa. Apparently, back in the day, I think it was 12th century-ish, the adjacent cemetery ran out of room. So somebody had a clever idea, "I know! Let's build a room off of the church where we can stick all the bones from the cemetery, arranged in pretty patterns!" Somebody else apparently said, "Hey, what a great idea!" Crazy Catholics. But hey, that's innovation.
After seeing a room lined with bones, we decided to peruse Milan's shopping district. We browsed several stores and bought nothing but enjoyed walking around. I also found a great grey, button-up shirt I wanted at H&M, but they only had a medium. After searching a couple of other H&Ms, I decided the shirt and I were not meant to be together. I also fell in love with a sport coat/hoody combo thing at Zara, but I thought 80 euro was a bit steep.
We grabbed some crepes at a sidewalk stand. Don't even get me started on how sumptuous that nutella crepe was. I was hungry at the time, so that greatly magnified my enjoyment of it. Who knew food could give me impure thoughts?
After a good down day, Austin headed for the airport to go back to London, and Greg and I hung out until Jacob got home from work, and we all went out for one last meal. We happened across a little ristorante/pizzeria. The pizzas were pretty inexpensive, so we figured we'd each get one, and I wanted something else traditional for the area, so the server recommended risotto milanese, which was simple but very nice. When they brought out our pizzas, we were surprised to see that we could probably have ordered one or two and been fine. I love Italian restaurants!
After gorging on really good pizza, we went home and crashed, taking the leftovers with us, much to Jacob's embarrassment (it's not nearly as common for people to take food home in Italy as it is here, but the server assured us many people do it at that ristorante).
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