3. Cairo, Egypt… 1st, 2nd, 3rd Worlds in 45 Minutes… Avoiding guides and camel poop! 12/18/22
Greetings from Cairo –
Following breakfast (the Egyptian countryside option, today—but somehow with plain hard-boiled eggs today and absent the hummus replaced with some other spread), we headed out of the Gamaleya (old section of town where we are staying) in search of a taxi. Theoretically, the entire area of Gamaleya is pedestrian-only, although deliveries are made all day, so there are cars, trucks, bikes, and motorbikes (although not really clear that the motorbikes are making deliveries. But, no taxis or private cars are allowed—although as with everything in Cairo (and developing nations), rules are always broken, so you do see cars and somehow Uber reigns supreme so Uber cars seem to be able to get through the barricades. As most of you know, we are very anti-Uber so we walked about 15 minutes or so to the gates of the Old City in search of a real taxi. Actually, there are many different kinds of taxis, including government approved and also private taxis. The government approved ones tend to be pretty old and beat up, but those are our guys, and we’ve been relying on them. They tend to be white with black trim (and don’t have meters)… Everything is “negotiated.”
We got into one taxi, but he was nervous that he didn’t know where we were going although we showed pictures. He called over a cop who spoke some English and the destination (the Pyramids) was confirmed, along with the price (everything is a negotiation!) We agreed on 150 EP (about $6) for a 30-minute drive; the guy should be given a medal for getting through Cairo traffic. We gave him 200 EP and he was totally grateful. Now a few words on traffic— it’s everywhere; there aren’t any striped lanes; and we have yet to see a traffic light, so I don’t think they exist. Because there aren’t any real lanes, it’s like a ballet of cars merging in and out of non-defined “lanes” and always creating a new “lane;” so on big streets there are about 6 lanes where we would have just 3. There are no pedestrian crosswalks so people—like the cars—take their lives in their hands and also do the ballet of getting part way across and then waiting for a short opening and dashing across—baby carriages, shopping carts and all. And of course, as in most developing countries (and NYC) the rule of the roost is the horn. On any given street, it’s a constant honking of horns. So, it’s quite an experience to be either a passenger or a pedestrian.
The drive from our hotel in the 13th Century old section to the Pyramids took us through many different neighborhoods, including the ‘new Cairo,’ which I’d say is pretty first-world with department stores, spiffy hotels that are all part of international chains, decent sidewalks, and classy apartment buildings. It also took us through sections of town that were definitely second-world with dilapidated housing covered with air conditioners hanging every which way amid crumbling infrastructure. And of course, there were the Third World sections with virtually no infrastructure and housing that didn’t have any air conditioning to address the totally horrific heat of the summer. But, streets are clean (despite not having a real garbage collection system), there is minimal begging, and no one visibly sleeping in tents.
Back to driving: We’ve seen near-impossible driving and walking conditions in India, Thailand, and parts of Latin America… but maybe this one is the most severe. (Or perhaps I say this each time we are traveling!) Anyway, we made it alive to the Pyramids. And then it was even more chaotic—just getting tickets and figuring out where one goes. We were determined not to have a guide, so we needed to navigate this alone. We were practically surrounded by wannabe guides (most of whom had all sorts of credentials around their necks) and by men who wanted to get our tickets for us, for a fee or ‘small tip’ and others telling us what we needed to do and not do. One said, “You cannot go in as a pedestrian; you must use either the “buggy” (horse driven) or a camel.” Naturally we shirked them all off and waited ‘on line ‘ by ourselves to purchase tickets. Well, there really wasn’t any “line”– more like just elbowing your way to the ticket guy, alongside those guys who purchase tickets for a fee.. They are purchasing dozens of tickets at a time. But hey, we are New Yorkers at heart, and we can do this. We got the tickets in just a few minutes. Then you have to figure out where the entrance is. Signage doesn’t exist here! But it was all good fun, although Mike was getting increasingly annoyed at all these guys (and it is just men) who would not let up—trying to get us into a horse drawn carriage. But we persevered and managed to escape guys who take your picture with the pyramids as a backdrop, the camel rides, the horse-drawn carriages, the ever-present “helpers” who “just want to do you a favor”, the guides, and more. By the way, after today, I could easily become a member of PETA (People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals – a group I always saw as fringe), given that those horses (and there are hundreds of them) are being worked to the bones and they don’t appear to have any water areas for them; the camels are scrawny and definitely overworked.
Must say seeing the pyramids was a bit underwhelming—except for the scale and the recognition of the age and what it took to build them. And that was sad, given all the years of art history I endured in college. The site is in pretty bad shape with lots of rubble to climb over and around. Lots of tourists—mostly taking bizarre photos (or having them taken by the “helpers”) where they hold their arms out so that the photo looks as if they are “holding” the pyramid and other such tricks. All the limestone that initially “covered” the pyramids has been removed, and it is apparent that the stone is eroding, which is unfortunate. Without any sort of “path” system or signage, everyone just meanders which made me think that we were all walking on top of some fairly sacred ground and significant architectural areas—and we don’t know what impact that is having. So in some ways, that too, adds to the loss of the sacredness of the place.
I gather the effort to go inside the pyramids and see the interior spaces is a great experience according to many. After reading up on what that experience is like we opted not to do that. I’m a bit claustrophobic and there are a lot of very narrow spaces you need to get through; you also have to crawl through some areas and given Mike’s knees I think that would have been challenging. But more than that, I think we were really turned off by how little has been done to make the experience worthwhile. No brochure when you get your tickets, the only maps are what you might have in your own guidebook, if you have a guidebook; no logical way to move between the sites – you just sort of walk around (and even in December it’s hot in the sun. So, we hiked up to the base of the largest pyramid and walked about half-way around it, and then went to see the sphynx. We also saw a few of the smaller pyramids. And then we hiked down, trying to figure out how to avoid the guys at the entry/exit who were likely to tell us that “they had to find us a taxi.” All of that happened, but we managed to find our own taxi and made a quick decision to head to one of the very well-advertised fancy hotels to get a snack of some sort. We decided on the Marriott Mena House, which as I recalled from the research we had done in selecting a hotel, seemed less obnoxious and less ostentatious as many of the others. So off we went with a very sweet taxi driver who knew no English and who had never been to the Mena House. Because of this two-, three-, or maybe four-tiered taxi system, the “street taxis” (as some call them) cater mostly to locals (and us). Thus, those drivers know the part of the city where real Egyptians live, not the areas tourists frequent. And these “street taxis” don’t have GPS and the drivers don’t have GPS on their phones.
He got us to Mena House, but there were several missed turns, and it took longer to get there than it should. Once we arrived, the driver had to navigate many barriers set up to stop unofficial and unwelcome cars and vehicles (like ours). (We had a similar situation in Bangkok many years ago when we got very attached to hailing “tuk-tuks” as our desired mode of transportation; the drivers would always drop us off about a block from our hotel because tuk-tuks were considered too low class to come to the hotel.) Anyway, after the maze of barricades and the sniffing dog at the Mena House, the driver was directed to let us out of the taxi, and he drove off. We then had to go through two metal detectors as we “entered the grounds” and as we went to the reception area to ask which restaurant might be open. Once we headed to the restaurant, we faced yet another metal detector (although this guy just waved us through). We are white and professional (although might not have looked so great after walking about 4 miles in and out of the pyramid area in the dusty sand), so I’m not sure what others might face. We had a late lunch near a reflecting pool at Mena House and I’d rate it 2.5 out of 5, but the outdoor space was comfortable, and we had great views of the very pyramids we had just seen up close. The photo in this email where the pyramid is reflecting in a pool with palm trees is one of those views—it eliminates all the ground chaos at the pyramid, no camels to be seen, no hawkers, no horse-drawn buggies! Just the splendor of the pyramid form which you can watch while having a martini. Oh, the music playing in the background at Mena House while we ate Perry Como (as compared to the Egyptian Pop we hear at our place.!) So, now we were really happy we were not staying in any of these Giza hotel locations and were grateful for our little and very authentic Riad.
The Marriott was definitely first world. (Guests were mostly Americans but also Middle Easterners (or so it seemed to us).
Then the fun started as we left the restaurant and asked about a taxi. The concierge said we could call for an Uber—again with the Uber! We declined and asked for them to get us a taxi. He responded by telling us he could call a limousine for us! We again said a taxi/a city taxi would be ideal. He told us to leave the grounds of the hotel (which by the way is probably one of the original hotels in the area, so it’s a bit aged, and is not all that good of a hotel) and walk onto the public areas where we will find many of these city taxis. The ultimate insult—we were not good enough for a Marriott… perhaps it would be a struggle if it was the Ritz Carlton, but a Marriott? And a total rebuke of their own taxi system. But how would we find a taxi ? By the time we were close to the gates of the Marriott, a guy stopped us and asked where we were headed; he was driving some really big SUV. We explained where we were headed, and he stopped another car that was leaving the Marriott. I think it was a worker from the hotel. He asked if he’d be interested in earning a little extra money; he was not a taxi driver. He graciously drove us to our neighborhood; we paid him what we paid the taxi driver. He couldn’t get into the old city, so we walked through the extremely large market with thousands of stalls and made it back to the hotel. It was especially fun to walk through the market tonight as there were clusters of chairs throughout the market facing television sets so that everyone (actually only men) watched the World Cup. No beer, since the whole Gamaleyan area bans alcohol. But the fans were just as enthusiastic without the buzz.
By then it was about 6:30 and we were totally beat. We opted to eat at our hotel on the roof—we were the only guests; everyone was watching the World Cup and we, too, followed on our phones. When Argentina won, there was a huge cheer from the streets below which continued for hours.
That’s it for me.. Sorry for the length. By the way, it’s now after midnight and the music in the street is still at a pretty high volume (such that we hear it in our 4th floor room) and the streets are still lively. Tomorrow we will visit a few other neighborhoods. We are here for three more full days and then we’ll take a train to Alexandria for the day.
All the best –
Fern
2. Cairo, Egypt. December 17 2022
‘ahlan (أهلا) – or Helo — Apologies for the length. As always, feel free to delete.
Note photo of front desk guy at hotel, trying to get a signal for the credit card payment machine —by holding the entry door open.
Began our first real day in Cairo with breakfast on the roof of our hotel (apparently, we booked for two days of breakfasts here at the hotel (?), and no breakfasts for the remaining five days; there were three choices: continental (boring); Egyptian country breakfast; and Egyptian breakfast. We both opted for the country breakfast which our waiter (with minimal English) recommended with a big smile. It consisted of about 5 different “spreads:” labneh, a sweet cheese mixed with cranberries (very yummy), hummus (naturally), a sweet sour cream, molasses, and tahini. Along with this came several flaky flat pastry “breads” (to die for) for the spreads, two semi-hard-boiled eggs that must have been deep fried for a quick second and dipped into bread crumbs before the dipping—very tasty. And of course, fresh mint tea—just fresh mint leaves and boiling water.
The restaurant was packed, but we were the only foreigners. There was one large table occupied by women; no men. Mike suspects it’s a women’s group making plans to change social norms. If so, they’ve got a long way to go! One funny thing about the table of Muslim women was that they were all talking at once and in heated discussions with what looked like multiple conversations at the same time. I could close my eyes and absent the hijabs it could be my family or any Jewish family dinner (at least those who grew up in working class Brooklyn).
Then we began our day-long journey. We walked through scores of the tiny streets and alleys of our “neighborhood” –- some barely passable— with pedestrians, motorcycles, cars, delivery vehicles, etc. Much of the goods is delivered by young guys on bicycles carrying every imaginable product on their heads (not unlike what we’ve seen in many parts of Southeast Asia).
Aside from the amazing smells and visuals, wherever you stroll (and stroll we did to the tune of nearly 13,000 steps today – too bad we’re eating such rich foods I don’t think the walking is having any impact), the real sensual stimulation are the sounds which go well into the wee hours of the night. I think the music in the streets ended at about 2:30 am… just in time to prepare for the call to prayer from the mosques which starts at about 5 a.m.! More than that, some kind of Egyptian pop music is constantly blaring from the little shops and pushcart-style shopping places that line the street. Everyone, and I mean everyone—from kids to parents, to shopkeepers, to school kids, to passersby are on cell phones—women in burkas to teenagers wearing rip-off American jeans and tee-shirts—everyone is on their phone—talking (loudly), or texting, or maybe playing Wordle (in Arabic?). And when they are not on their phones, they are yelling across the way to a shopkeeper in another “store.” Some of the shops are barely 80 square feet. So, the sounds are mesmerizing… and then there is the shuffling of feet that are in slipper style shoes, and the engines of the cars and motorcycles. And people singing in the street!
Walking along those little shops that line the streets and merge into the Khan Khalili souk and Bazaar and the shops that stay open til around midnight, was also a bit of a comparison to my youth where my grandfather had a tiny men’s clothing store in Brooklyn. He loathed the fact that night-time television took customers away and he had to start closing up at around 8 pm, and in later years even earlier.
This Khan Kalili market has been the center of trade in Cairo since the 13th Century. It was originally just one building but now refers to the whole area of streets and the maze within the bazaar. They say it is the oldest open-air market in the Middle East. After zigzagging throughout the area, we wound up at Naquib Mahfouz Café which is located near one of the gates to the bazaar. It was recommended by the young receptionist at the hotel. It’s a Moorish building with all sorts of nooks and crannies. We were still full from breakfast so we opted for just the mezze platter to share—more than enough and actually quite good. Oh – one funny thing. Sitting in a little corner of the restaurant, cross-legged on the floor, was a guy shining shoes. No sooner did we sit down at our table, when he sprung into action trying to get to shine my shoes. As I glanced around, I was probably the only one not wearing sneakers, so I was an obvious hit. He told me it would cost (the equivalent of) $8; I agreed and he brought over a little rug for me to put my feet on, while he shined my shoes and while we ate. The cost was about the same as lunch. But I figure the guy needs the money and it was an easy way to “spread the wealth.” Seemed as if he left right after doing my shoes (boots), so maybe he earned his daily quota with that one sale. Funny thing about how there is no market for shoe shiners anymore, any where. Used to be an old guy at the Oakland Airport who had regular customers; he’s been long gone ever since everyone flying is wearing some kind of sneaker (or flip flops).
Then we walked more and put our lives in our hands as large tourist buses barreled down many of these very narrow streets with people eating in cafes lining each side of every street. The buses had less than 6” clearance and at one point I was sort of sandwiched between the moving bus and a barricade when someone came and moved the barricade a bit for me to have some breathing room. I guess some tourists “visit” the market from a bus window.
Later in the evening, we decided to venture to an upscale restaurant situated inside the Four Seasons Hotel located on the Nile. We walked to the outer gates of the Gamaliya (where our hotel is) to get a taxi to the Four Seasons. The desk clerk at the hotel said if we got to the gate, we’d find lots of taxis. (He was surprised we didn’t use Uber.) Tried to explain the politics, but then just figured we’d walk to the gate (about 15 minutes). We were prompted to leave the old city for dinner, despite having a really good meal last night, because alcohol of all sorts, including wine, is banned from all but a few parts of Cairo. Naturally, you can get alcohol in these upscale hotels that cater to tourists. We got into a pretty beat up taxi with a nice driver who spoke no English. As we approached the hotel, dogs had to check out the car and guards asked a few questions before they allowed us and the taxi entrance to the hotel grounds. I had forgotten but this same thing happened when we were traveling in Kenya and in Tanzania. Rather insulting and humbling for the driver. They weren’t too interested in us, although when we did get inside the hotel, one of the many doormen literally escorted us into the restaurant. Fortunately, he didn’t pick us up when we were finished eating so we were able to peek around the 5-star digs.
The restaurant, Zitouni, was billed as serving North African food. It was all good, but hardly “spectacular” and of course about four times the price of restaurants in the Gamaliya. But, then again, we did have cocktails and wine! When we exited the hotel, we asked one of the doormen to please get us a taxi (again the Uber conversation), and he proceeded to call for a taxi. We waited a few minutes and a spanking new, very clean white taxi arrived, Since the process is to ask the price of the fare, we did that. (It cost us 70 EP/about $3, to get to the Four Seasons, although we gave a tip equal to an additional 50%.) This guy said “200 pounds” or about $8.50 for the exact same ride. We told the driver we just paid 70 pounds for the same ride and offered 100, but he drove off. He also said he had no idea where our hotel is located. The Four Seasons guy said he’d have to “go onto the streets” to get a “regular city taxi” for us, rather than the “hotel taxi,” and he did. Up drove a beat-up old taxi and we headed to the Riad. We tipped the guy well and he was most grateful for the work. He dropped us at the gate; it was about midnight; and we strolled the now somewhat quieter (and some even deserted) streets of the Gamalya area. Some persistent shopkeepers were still holding court; restaurants and cafes were brimming with locals; and music was playing (loudly) as we neared our hotel (which is often guarded by our own little sphynx – a sleeping cat.
So, we saw the two Cairos. The one where people live and work and serve the others who probably drive folks to the Four Seasons and the one where Egyptians appear to only be the servers, cleaners, and doormen who cater to foreigners (mostly wealthy Arabs it seemed) with lots of money. The Old Cairo and the New Cairo, as the literature around here describes the centuries-old areas with incredible architecture that is in bad need of repair and the upscale neighborhoods filled with new, shiny buildings and modern conveniences.
As-Salamu alaikum (Peace be with you); more tomorrow.
PS – funny sign in our rather large and very modern bathroom at our hotel; guess the plumbing isn’t quite up to par.
1. Arrived in Cairo… Very very late: Dec. 15, 2022
Greetings –
The plan (up until just 5 days ago) was to head to Addis Ababa and Lalibela — in Ethiopia, and then to move on to Egypt (Cairo/ Luxor/ Aswan) and to Jordan (Amman and Petra, and one stop along the drive) and then to Israel (a few nights in Jaffa, Jerusalem, and Akko),. And then to Geneva for a very brief family visit to meet very new grandniece. But alas, plans changed by the hour. First, we decided to ditch Geneva and go in the spring—mostly because of the sheer inconvenience of having to pack for winter weather when the rest of the trip would be in the 60s; and we figured that a one-week old baby might not be as interesting as a three or four-month baby (by then I’m sure she’ll be able to chat and play with us!!) So that got changed and shortened the trip by a few days.
Then about 8 days ago I woke up with a strange “lump” on the right side of my face – kind of below the ear and above the chin—a bit like mumps; didn’t hurt at all, but it was visible and I could feel it when I touched it. I wound up in Urgent Care and the doc thought it was some kind of enlarged lymph node brought about by the fact that I had a cold for a few days (not Covid, just plain old virus coughing and sneezing). She did, however, predict that it could take two months or so to disappear. Said to take Advil. Two days later, given that we were headed to places lacking stellar medical facilities, I decided to see my own doc. She agreed with the diagnosis initially, but also felt it might be swollen salivary gland or something called parotitis, which is usually painful. I have no pain. Anyway, they did an ultrasound which came out fine; totally benign, not infected; she said it needed to take its course and that sucking lemons might be an old wives’ tale that could work. So, we were ready to leave on Monday (packing lots of lemons which we trusted TSA would not take as liquids).
Then on Sunday, my doctor called me and said she was concerned because we had not uncovered what this was and how I got it. We talked for a long time (on a Sunday! – how’s that for a good doctor!) and she felt I should get it drained on Monday—and although it would take several days for the results—it was my call whether or not to take the trip. Again, no pain, no anything. But as it turned out, there was no way I could get in to have it “drained” on Monday; the Interventional Radiologists “have their own process” (their words) as to how the work gets scheduled. And they are totally booked, and it’s holiday season. By then we had canceled the Ethiopia part of the trip (thinking they could do the procedure Monday or Tuesday). We changed our tickets to go straight to Cairo and do the trip, just minus Ethiopia—which is unfortunate since we really wanted to go. We are now trying to see if we can go to Ethiopia in April when we will be headed to Geneva (you know just a hop, skip, and jump to another continent).
Mike and I decided we could monitor this as well from here as from home, given that it looked like the appointment would most likely come in January (at which point I am convinced the whole thing will have disappeared – Fern — ever the optimist). And I figure that if it was an emergency, they would have figured out how to get me in right away. Enough about healthcare.
OK.. so here we are in Cairo. I’m just going to give you a feel of what entry into Cairo was like.
Our flight from SFO to Frankfurt was delayed slightly and then the flight from Frankfurt to Cairo was delayed about two hours. We were pretty beat by the time we landed in the chaos of Cairo. It was about 10:45 pm when we arrived at our hotel. Emerging from Customs at Cairo was like coming to most other developing nations—crowds everywhere and drivers and tour guides hawking to get you to come with them. We expected that, so it wasn’t a big surprise. But we had things to do at the airport – like exchange money. So we just ignored all the guys screaming for attention; we also walked past the lines and lines of drivers holding up signs with peoples’ names who had either pre-booked a taxi or driver or were joining some group or were going to meet up with a tour guide, etc. As you know we love being independent travelers wherever we are.
Got our cash – The US dollar is equal to Egyptian 24 pounds; so when you exchange money you get wads of bills. They even have a 1 Egyptian pound bill which is like 4 cents. And then we had to figure out the taxi scene. One guy was just so persistent that we discussed the fare. He said $25 US dollars, but it was also clear he didn’t have a clue where our hotel was located. Most tourists stay in Gezira, which is actually an island on the Nile and is close to most tourist sites. So naturally, we didn’t want to stay there. We did a little research and decided to stay in the El Gamaleya area right in the thick of things; a very old part of the city which is chock full of people and shops. It’s a Muslim part of the old section of Cairo. I called the hotel to have them explain the directions to the taxi guy (he wasn’t too interested in my GPS directions) and then I asked the hotel how much it should cost. They said $8 US dollars. So we negotiated with the driver and paid $12.
Trying to get his car out of the lot where all the drivers sit while the middleman (yes they are all men) negotiates the deal, was hysterical. Took about as long to get out of the parking lot as to drive to the hotel. And the back seats of the car had seat belts but only the straps, not the little gizmo into which you have to put the strap to secure yourself in the seat. Oh well, can’t have it all.
The drive through the tiny narrow streets which were filled with cars, pedestrians cheek to jowl, tuk tuks, push carts with vendors and then sidewalks totally impassable was great. Technically these are all walking streets with no cars allowed! Anyway, we arrived at Hotel Le Riad de Charme which has about 24 rooms and a rooftop restaurant. We have a little (actually a big) suite with a living room, bedroom, bath, sitting area, and foyers large enough to be additional rooms. Each room is decorated differently and we are in the “Calligraphy Room” (appropriate!). The building is hundreds of years old, but has been updated with modern plumbing (sort of) and electrical (although lots of wires hanging about). The staff could not be friendlier and trying to be helpful, although most do not speak English (except for the reception guy who learned English on YouTube, and is thinking about moving to Capetown! )
From our little terrace (yes we have a terrace from which we can see quite a few mosques) we can see and hear the life of the city, which we will start exploring tomorrow. We dashed up to the rooftop restaurant to get some dinner; I love Cairo already since even this small restaurant was serving until midnight. My kind of town. And when we finally got to our room at about 12:30 am to settle in and unpack we could hear the crowds below us, selling every imaginable item; eating in little outdoor cafes; and strolling the streets.
And then I needed an emergency call with my IT guy… but turns out it’s just very slow Internet.
If you get this note, then you know the Internet is working and cranking.
Take care. Will be in touch with my daily reports as close to daily as I can.
Best –
Fern
22. Milan. Like a Typical Milanese. May 2 2023.
First the really good news…. Mike tested Negative today!!! Just in time to leave Milan, so by the time we leave tomorrow, he will have spent 7 days being in Milan, looking at the four walls of his room… and the weird television shows he’s been watching. Today he said he watched crayfish mate in a stream while raccoons were hunting them. But, all is good. We are going out to dinner tonight and then we leave the hotel at 8 am tomorrow morning (Wednesday); we arrive at SFO around 10 pm same day.
Today it actually didn’t rain so I headed out—first to the Shoah Memorial which is located at the Central Station, in the area where between 1943 and 1945—away from public view and where previously mail was loaded and unloaded. In this area, hundreds of deportees, mostly Jews, were forced onto rail cars that had been used for livestock. The cars were filled body to body with Jews and then raised in a railroad car elevator between tracks 18 and 19 and then deported to concentration camps. The area has remained mostly unchanged physically. It is filled now with some of the original rail cars and then with small viewing areas where videos of documentary interviews with survivors are shown.
From there I walked about a 1.5 miles to the Fondazione Giangiacomo Feltrinelli, which is dedicated to social practice art. It’s within an interesting building. When I arrived, there weren’t any exhibits (everything was under construction), but the 5th floor was open and there were good views of the city. Then, somewhat exhausted I took a taxi to Peck—a gourmet food shop established in 1883. Pretty amazing place.
Then a little packing, and off to dinner at La Brisa—a charming little restaurant with amazing food. We started (after two different “gifts” from the chef) with the beef diaphragm tartare which was great; shared the pasta with octopus which was prepared perfectly—octopus was soft and tasty; then we had the crispy pig with some veggies; and finally we had the pear tatin which had a bit of whipped ricotta on the side. I had wine; Mike is abstaining for a few ore days until the Paxlovid is out of his system.
That’s it… gotta pack and get up really early to get taxi to the airport.
Be well –
We’re ready to get home; sorry we missed Geneva, but we will figure out when to come—most likely Christmas.
Fern
21. May Day in Milan. May 1 2023. (Day 6 in Milan)
Happy May Day/Workers Day !!
Hope you are all well. Mike seems to be improving. Today he technically completed his 5-day isolation and also his Paxlovid regimen. Still tired, but definitely seems to be moving in the right direction. I’m hopeful he can join me for a really nice dinner tonight and maybe even stroll Milan a bit tomorrow, before we head to the states on Wednesday morning. We’re keeping the two rooms until we leave, as a precaution. Buy shares in Hyatt (or some particular brand of Hyatt called “small luxury hotels.”) Given the number of days we’ve stayed here and the two rooms, stocks are sure to go up. Mike’s been watching Italian television and he’s got a few Italian words now like “dragon” (drago) and “other dragon” (altra drago).
It’s May Day and I reminisced a bit about varioius cities where I have experienced May Day, inlcuding Paris and Helsinki, where May Day is a big deal politically, but also includes a lot of drinking.
Before heading out, I had a little chat with the woman at the hotel who I think is the manager; she’s probably in her late 30s and speaks English very well. She asked a bit about me and always asks how Mike is doing. In reality she probably knows his situation better than me because staff come in with room service food and to clean the room (although he leaves when they come and he goes to sit on a little deck). Anyway, turns out she is from Ukraine and has lived in Milan for about a decade. She went to university in Toronto which explains her English proficiency. We chatted a bit about the situation in Ukraine; her mother came to Italy for a year but has now returned; her grandparents never left; she has many cousins who fled to Italy, Portugal, and other parts of Europe. Her mother went back to Ukraine about a week ago; she was frustrated, had a good job in Ukraine and couldn’t work here in Italy. She says her family is safe. She says the Ukrainians see little hope for any resolution as long as Putin remains. I asked about Zelensky and she said that within the country Ukrainians see him as a god. But she also said that she gets a good perspective on the war because she can read and listen to the news in many languages and from different sources — US, Russia, Ukraine, Italy, etc. which she says enables her to find balance in the reports.
Then, I had my ritual stand-up pastry and juice for breakfast at a little café and since it was raining a bit, I decided to take a taxi to the Arco Porta Ticinese, which is one of three remaining original 12th Century walls of Milan. Wasn’t really that interested in this “gate” but needed some place to tell the taxi to go. I really just wanted to walk in the Navigli neighborhood and also along the canals that line the area. But, for your information, these 12th century walls are gothic style and originally there was a tower on top to watch over the navigable moat. But that part of the canal was filled in over subsequent centuries. The canal is quite lovely and goes a long distance—must be beautiful on a sunny day, which this wasn’t. The Navigli is known as having a lot of quirky charm and also for its active nightlife; basically, I think it’s one of those neighborhoods where people hang out alot—during the day over coffee, and at night over wine and beer. But given that today was a holiday and it was drizzling, the place was pretty quiet which was nice.
Before I say more about the Navigli and my 4-mile walk, around the area and ultimately to Porta Genoa, I need to tell you about my taxi ride from the hotel to the wall. First, it was a female taxi driver, the first one I’ve had in Milan and only the second female taxi driver I’ve had in Italy. But the funny part was that her stepfather is American and his brother lives (or at least lived until about 6 months ago) in Oakland!! Pretty cool, don’t you think—and so very random. She got me to Navigli.
The navigli, which I sense translates to something like navigable is named after the man-made canals that were used for transporting goods and people, and for irrigation too. From what I understand Milan was like a landlocked Venice, crisscrossed by waterways that are now hidden under paved roads. And it was on these waterways that the marble needed for building the Duomo was transported into the center of the city. Most of the canals were filled to make way for cars and trucks, but Navigli remains pretty charming with the few remaining canals. This is an area of Milan where there are buildings where apartments have “shared” balconies.
The waterway is home to many activities like rowing and canoeing and alongside there’s cycling. I also saw someone fishing. I’m told if you are daring you can actually take a dip in the Naviglio… I walked and walked amid the intermittent sprinkles, and thought I’d head to Porta Genoa but got sort of lost and my GPS didn’t seem to direct me to where I thought Porta Genoa was.. so, I decided I’d just head pack to where the taxi dropped me off and find another taxi. But as I walked, I began to see the carabinieri (the national police) blocking streets and clearly preparing for something. They blocked all access across the main street, Macellaria Populare; I figured there was probably going to be a May Day parade.
I thought it was an interesting neighborhood for a parade, since it’s definitely not in the center of town. Figured I should hang around, although I was really hungry. As I strolled closer to the start of the avenue, which the police were flanking, I began to see the seeds of a march/demonstration—so I got closer and next thing I was smack in the middle of the May Day demonstration of the Italian Communistas and Socialistas. They had a fairly good turnout and a large percentage of the marchers were people of color and immigrants. They carried signs that talked about repression and unemployment, I think.
And then music started to blast the streets… Bob Marley’s “Get Up Stand Up for Your Rights,” followed by some Italian songs… and they marched. I stayed a while and then decided to head back to the hotel, but no taxi could get to my location because of all the streets being blocked. Finally, I stopped one of the cops to get directions to a taxi stand, but his explanation was unclear and seemed very complicated. Given the rain and the fact that I had already walked about 4 miles, I didn’t want to walk the additional few miles. I stopped another cop (fortunately they were all over the place, although they seemed pretty passive, and the demonstration was quite calm). This next cop spoke some English, so he was able to explain where I had to go to get out of the blocked streets and get a taxi. But first I asked a bit about the march. He said that the “main Workers Day march took place in the morning in the center of town (probably at Piazza del Duomo) and that this was an “alternative parade and demonstration.” I liked his choice of words—“alternative,” so I asked (knowing full well by the pamphlets being distributed) if this was a march of the Communist Party and he said “yes” and again said it was “the alternative” group.
I wound up having to walk to a train station about a mile away and found a taxi. After an hour or so, I headed out again to a small church called Santa Maria Annunciata located in a low-income section of Milan known as Chiesa Rossa (Red Church?) toward the southern part of the city. In the late 1990s, Reverend Giulio Greco invited the American artist Dan Flavin to be part of the restoration and renovation of the church. Flavin’s permanent installation was the centerpiece of the renovation of the 1930s church. I think that Flavin actually died before the installation was actually unveiled (he died two days after the work was completed) and I believe that the Prada Foundation helped fund the artwork.
If you’re not familiar with Flavin’s work, he’s best known for his works that utilize fluorescent light and often does this in relation to specific architectural contexts where the installations will be placed. By using light like the commercially available fluorescent tubes which are linear, he is able to emphasize the structure of the architecture, although at times he purposefully contradicts the architecture. Flavin is considered part of the Minimalist Movement of the 60s/70s. It’s a bit strange for his work to be the centerpiece of a religious building because he has never used any symbolic or spiritual elements in his work. Still, from what I remember from art school days, Flavin does have some kind of religious background. I think his parents wanted him to become a priest and they sent him to some kind of seminary and he was drawn to the drama of the liturgy.
It’s a really wonderful installation — the interior of the church is stark white …. And the placement of the lights brings in green and blue and pink and these ultraviolet lights fill the entire church with chromatic elements that completely change the space and I imagine that the colors and feel are very different at different times of day.
With that, I headed back to the hotel to check on Mike who felt he was up to going out for a real dinner… To celebrate we headed to a Michelin star place called L’Alchemina, where every dish was a little work of art.
And now I’m back and ready for bed. Tomorrow it is supposed to rain most of the day, so I think my last day will be packing and getting back to my book so that I feel I was productive for at least a little bit during this trip.
All the best.. Maybe more tomorrow if I decide to leave the hotel. I’ve pretty much seen what I want to see here in Milan, but if the weather clears, I may do my favorite thing when I’m traveling—taking the metro and just getting off at random stations and walking those neighborhoods, but no fun if it is raining.
Fern
Hope you are all doing well. We are finally confirmed on flights—leaving from Milan to SFO via Newark—arriving on Wednesday night. We will find time somewhere this year to get to Geneva; maybe Xmas… if we can make it work.
I started my day dealing canceling our reservations for the Geneva hotel and train from Milan to Geneva. Indeed, it feels like we live in Milan (not a bad thing). Yesterday, three different groups of people asked me for directions and one salesperson continued to speak to me in Italian and finally said, in English, “Gee I could have sworn you were Italian; you look Italian.” I took it all as a compliment.
And one note— there are an estimated 4.7 billion photos shot on phones each day (!!); I am convinced that at least a billion of those are taken here in Milan. While everywhere you travel you see people taking photos, especially selfies, with girlfriends, boyfriends, parents, children in front of or next to whatever monument, piazza, restaurant, museum, canal, building or whatever, it does seem like the proliferation is greater here in Milan than anywhere! All over, people are primping as they use all of Milan as a backdrop for pictures of themselves.
Mike is slowly emerging back into the world, but the laryngitis hasn’t gone away yet. Tomorrow, he ends the five days of isolation and the Paxlovid regimen. Hopefully, he’ll have two more days to just rest and maybe stroll before we head back.
I headed out this morning by taxi to the Fondazione Prada which is in the southern part of Milan. Was going to do Metro, but wanted to get there more quickly as I hadn’t had breakfast and figured the place had a café. I was correct. In fact the café was designed by filmmaker Wes Anderson; it’s sort of kitschy, called Bar Luce and is designed to refer to various landmarks in Milan from the 1950s and 60s, which can be seen in the color palette and various finishes like veneered paneling, formica, and the furniture. Armed with morning pastry, I was ready to view this huge 5-acre complex/campus which had been a distillery in its productive life. Sort of ironic that now it houses artworks from the collection of (or commissioned by) the founder and designer of a luxury fashion house. The historic buildings have been converted to house different activities of the Foundation and also temporary exhibitions (mostly very large scale installations). There are also new buildings. One is called the Tower, one that is covered in gold leaf and is three stories, and the Podium which has huge spaces on each of two floors.
The architect for the project was Rem Koolhaus. I was very mesmerized by the campus which has multiple buildings clad in reflective surfaces, so that you are always looking at reflections showing what is behind you as well as looking ahead. The elevator (which is gigantic) in the tower has some marbleized light red surfaces that change color as the elevator rises, based on how much light is coming into the elevator.
While I actually liked the complex, I found it totally strange that this was once a workplace where people held blue collar jobs, and probably lived close by in what has been described as a “scruffy” neighborhood… Well no more. New buildings are popping up in close proximity and the scale of this campus totally changes whatever community still exists nearby. Must have taken the sale of a lot of Prada handbags to build this complex; the price tag has never been revealed and probably never will be told since it was all private money— as I said lots of handbags! And, it’s amazing what you can do when money is no object. That said, previously industrial buildings have long found new uses as art spaces.
After lunch at the Torre Restaurant at the top of the tower building—a wonderful soaring space with windows and views of the city into the distance. Unfortunately the food doesn’t match the space. I’d give it a 2 out of 5, but with prices that are 5+. Headed back to the hotel since rain was predicted and went to the pharmacy to get Mike some lozenges.
And then got a surprise text from friends from Phoenix—who it turns out were in Milan today. Switched plans (I was going to have dinner at a fusion restaurant called—appropriately—Benoteca, a Japanese/Italian place) and instead found a little hole-in-the-wall place to have dinner with these good friends, who are traveling for 7 weeks through Italy and France, and having a blast. Disappointed Mike couldn’t join in, but he’s been a real trouper. I’m hoping he’ll be able to leave the hotel tomorrow and maybe join me for dinner.
I’m trying to be really careful so that I don’t come down with Covid and that we can leave as planned on Wednesday. So far, so good…
Finally, another observation: on this trip and on other overseas travels over the past 7 years or so, I’ve noticed a definite decline in interest in the US. Years ago, when we traveled abroad, people were curious about the US and they seemed to follow it on the news. Some Europeans, Asians, and others were almost mesmerized by what they saw as this giant, powerful, and wealthy country. Some hated the US (most especially during the Vietnam War when we lived overseas) and some tried to mimic aspects of US culture. Today, I sense minimal interest in the US on the part of Europeans, more of a sense of the failures of the US and its foibles. You can see it on the news—barely a mention of US issues; far deeper interest in global issues and in the events in other parts of the world. I’m glad. When asked where we are from, we never say the US… we always say “California,’ thinking it’s sort of “code” that California is different from the rest of the country. Every so often you’ll spot graffiti that mentions George Floyd or other racial comments. But overall, we are just another country across a very big pond.
Tomorrow, I plan to visit a few more neighborhoods and also to see the Dan Flavin installation at some church… and to see what may or may not happen on May Day, which is a national holiday here in Italy called Festa dei Lavoratori or Festa del Lavoro— Workers Day. I’m guessing parades? Demonstrations? Strikes?
Stay well.
Fern
19. Milano Milano!! April 29 2023.
First the update on Mike: This morning he thought he was on the mend and over the hump, but by late afternoon he was coughing a lot and felt terrible. So we are not going to Geneva (will see if we can go at Xmas).. At this rate, the new baby (Mike’s niece’s third child born in January) will be in college before we see her. But this is for the best, for everyone. After about two hours on the phone with United, we were able to find flights that didn’t require big additions to the cost. We will leave on Wednesday from Milan to Newark and on to SFO; not my preferred route, but it will be fine. Hopefully, by Wednesday Mike will be up for the trip.
In the meantime, I’ve been explouring (or re-exploring) Milan. I headed directly for the Isola neighborhood after a quick stand-up morning snack at a local café. Took a taxi so that I could then walk around that neighborhood. Isola is one of those “up and coming” (translate—gentrifying) neighborhoods that used to be a working class area and is now hip and full of restaurants and galleries and cute boutiques. They compare it to Rome’s Trastverre but it’s not quite there yet. Today was their market day which stretched for blocks and blocks of fresh veggies and fruits and cheeses and meats and also used clothing and kitchen gear and all sorts of goodies from underwear to toys. I strolled and strolled and strolled. The taxi driver was a little confused as to why I was going to “this” market and told me about others that were “nicer.” He didn’t speak much English but I got the message; he also told me that in “this” neighborhood I needed to be sure to hold my phone and my wallet very close.
Along the route to Isola, I spotted the Bosco Verticale so I asked the taxi driver to stop for a minute for me to photograph.. Actually it’s very difficult to photograph this high end apartment complex.. The Verticale is supposedly a successful example of green urban development. The building changes as the seasons change; there are more than 15,000 plants and 90 different species of trees, shrubs and floral vegetation.. and the green which I have read is the equivalent of about 8 acres of forest, which is capable of absorbing 30 tons of carbon dioxide per year. The building of the Verticale is one of many ways that the Isola is changing.
The Isola, like almost every neighborhood in Milan and also throughout the country is filled with murals and graffitti. And Italian cities seem to have absorbed graffitti as a part of life that’s here to stay. After hours bopping around the Isola, I headed to the Metro and took the train back to a stop near the Duomo to visit the Museo del Novecento — an interesting building that is focused on 20th-century Italian art. The museum was designed to show the art works in a linear fashion so that one moves along historically through the different “movements” of the 20th century. The building overlooks the Piazza Duomo and there are great views from each floor.
It’s a good collection and walking through and reading some of the text I was reminded of one of my favorite movies—“Manifesto”—where Cate Blanchett plays 13 different roles—the lead in each of the 13 stories–each of which depicts the writings of 13 different manifestos in the world of politics and art— Futurism, Dadaism, Bauhaus, Communist, etc. It’s a sort of a stew of these artists’ manifestos—and questions the role of artists in society. Among the 13 different personas that Blanchett performs, she’s a school teacher, a puppeteer, a newsreader, a factory worker, and a homeless man. If you haven’t seen this movie and you care about the arts—try to get hold of a copy.
By then it was after 7:00, and I headed back to the hotel. Given Mike’s awful experiences with room service and delivered meals, I went to pick up some sushi for him… The issue about the food is that the hotel is small and doesn’t really have a kitchen or a restaurant. So they bring the food from a “sister hotel” a few blocks away. By the time it gets to the hotel, it’s cold and not so appetizing.
Then I headed for a really late dinner at a family restaurant in the Porta Roman area, which I hope to explore during daylight tomorrow (although the prediction is for rain??!!)
That’s it for me… lots more to tell, but it’s late here (after midnight and time for Wordle) and I’m getting sleepy.
Hope you are doing well.
Fern
Day Two of Paxlovid for Mike
While Mike is pretty much tied to his room here at the hotel, watching Italian TV (I think he seems a little better than yesterday), I figure I should take advantage of this return visit to Milan. I’m in a separate hotel room and feel fine.
So I walked… about 6 miles total and climbed about 8 floors. I walked from the hotel to the Piazza degli Affari, where I saw the famous “finger” which is strategically facing the Italian Stock Exchange, the Borsa… a sort of “F*** You” to the world of bankers and corporate CEOs. The statue is titled “L.O.V.E.” which stands for “Liberta, Odio, Vendetta, Eternita” (Freedom, Hate, Vengeance, Eternity.) It was created in 2010 by Maurizio Cattelan, who is well known in Italy for controversial art works. The statue was supposed to be temporarily placed in Piazza Affari but the Milan municipal government decided to keep it in the piazza indefinitely. The artist has never commented on the meaning of the statue, but everyone assumes it refers to the economic crisis that affected Europe from 2008 forward. The stock exchange is a fascist-era building. It should be noted that Piazza Affaari is in a business district and not a tourist destination, although word has spread and people do come and take pictures-–mostly of themselves with the statue. When I got to the piazza, there were just two other people there.
From there I walked through the medieval part of Milan through the Cinque Vie and on to Santa Maria Presso San Sanitoro, a 15th Century church… and just roamed the neighborhoods in and around this path I set out on… I went to see the Wall of Dolls, a protest art piece with scores of dolls tied to a wall—symbolizing crimes against women. Eventually I returning to Piazza Duomo and to the hotel to check on Mike. We are actually now neighbors as he is in Room 106 and I’m in 107. If we knew Morse Code we could communicate; instead we are opting for iPhones—the contemporary Morse Code.
After a brief refreshing rest at the hotel, I headed out to actually visit the Duomo. I figure when in Milan—one must see the Duomo, even if you’ve seen it before. With ticket in hand (actually don’t think we needed to pay for tickets years ago) I trekked (along with many others) up to the roof and terraces of the building. The Duomo is 350 feet tall and has 135 spires. It was (according to my phone) six flights up and six flights down. These narrow stairwells with uneven treads and risers brought me to the many terraces and the roof where you could see the spires and trusses up close and get great views of Milan.
Construction of the Duomo started in 1386 and was initially intended to be made of terra cotta, but once the design was revealed and the grandeur was understood, the project was done in marble that came from the Lake Maggiore area. In order to get the marble to the site, canals had to be dug and those canals are visible along the “navigli”. Thousands of artists and sculptors were involved in the construction and architects from across Europe were invited to participate – 78 different architects were involved. The church was consecrated in 1418 but in reality only the nave was finished.. Construction of the church continued for several centuries more. Frankly I had forgotten how many stairs there were (256 to get to the terraces); had I remembered I might not have done it. But I did do it and glad I did. And the inside of the Duomo is spectacular –- in some ways more “barren” than so many other churches in Italy. There are supposedly 3,400 statues, 135 gargoyles, and 700 figures within and on the façade of the building.
Following the Duomo I headed back to the hotel briefly and then –-having already walked more than 15,000 steps (and my foot is not totally great yet) and climbed all those stairs—I decided to take a taxi to dinner. And unlike last night when I took a taxi I was much more careful with my pronunciation of the street name (Last night I needed to go to Via Corsico, but I guess my pronunciation made it sound like Via Corsica—big difference, totally different parts of the city. Ate at Il Carpaccio; interesting menu.
And then I headed back to the hotel.
Tomorrow is another day. Hoping Mike will be well enough to see a little of Milan before we leave. I think his isolation will end on Sunday. Keeping fingers crossed.
Best –
Fern
17. Milan: April 27 2023.
Messy day… I’m now in my third room at the hotel, and they only have 21 rooms. But hopefully this is my spot for the foreseeable future.
Thanks for all the notes about Mike’s health and my gout attack. Mike’s on Paxlovid, which we brought with us from the states. Good thing, because I don’t think they prescribe it here. I’m doing better although I probably shouldn’t have walked as much as I did today—about 3.5miles. Since I had to be near the hotel to move my stuff from room to room, once the new room was ready, I just took a short walk back in Piazza Duomo and through the Galleria. Follow-up on the Leonard Cohen “Hallelujah,” it seems as if all of the different singers who perform in the piazza do at least one Leonard Cohen song each day. So high likelihood that you catch it a few times in a day…. which is fine by me.
The pigeons were out in full force, as they usually are and as they have been for decades (or maybe centuries?) Once the room was ready, I got settled in it and then had to deal with returning the rental car. Since Mike has been doing most of the driving and I’ve been the navigator, I was a bit concerned about being both the driver AND the navigator, having to negotiate getting from the hotel which is in a pedestrian zone to the train station. I asked the rental car people if they would pick up the car but that wasn’t going to work. Then one guy at the front desk suggested that he could drive his motor scooter in front of me and he’d lead me to the rental return. But in the end Mike decided that he could handle driving the car if I navigated… we both wore N95 masks in the car and kept the windows wide open. Once we got to the drop-off (near the Central Station), Mike got into a taxi and headed back to his isolation room at the hotel.
I strolled the area and neighborhood near the station and also walked through the Mercato Centrale—a hip series of food stalls, with great graphics and good food. Then I headed to what they call Platform 21 (a secret underground platform) where Jewish prisoners from the San Vittore Prison lined up to be loaded on freight cars and taken on trains to extermination camps. It was 3:35 when I got there, knowing it closed at 4. Turns out you have to be there 30 minutes before closing. So, I probably won’t see it, unless I come back to this area another day.
Then I walked to the Metro station and decided to test Milan’s public transit which seems pretty efficient if you’re in the central area. Got back to the hotel, checked in on Mike, and then decided to go to the restaurant where Mike and I had a reservation for tonight. Mike ordered in… So I ate at 28 Posti which is a really sweet contemporary Italian restaurant that focuses on no waste and innovative dishes.
There were three little amuse buches as “gifts of the chef” which were delightful and there is no way I can tell you what they were. Then I had two dishes.. baby artichokes that had been roasted and then they poured some kind of potato, black truffle, tarragon oil on… And I had the spaghetino (?) that had a fish and shellfish broth and was topped with a sprinkling of some kind of red pepper. I did have dessert but couldn’t finish (needed my “plus one” to share the meal)—some kind of porcini mushroom gelato with carob and tiny apple chunks alongside very very thin chocolate crackers and carob crackers. Then they brought a thank you gift from the chef—which I brought back to Mike. I think they were various fruits that had been either dried or gelled. They looked great.
I taxied back to the hotel and here I am.
I’m hoping that I’m in better shape tomorrow and will get out of the center of Milan into some neighborhoods. Mike will be in his room and hopefully feeling a little better. Keeping my fingers crossed that he feels well enough to have at least one day in Milan outside the hotel.
We will assess the situation regarding Geneva on Saturday, but right now it’s not looking good and we are likely to leave for the states from Milan, not Geneva… but that’s another story and will require finding flights. Haven’t even started that yet.
Best –
Fern
16. Verona to Milan: April 26 2023. Unexpected changes to itinerary; unexpected way to spend last days in Italy.
26 April 2023
Ciao-
Well, where to begin?
We were supposed to head from Verona to a little place called Castle Strambinello, today—in order to gain access on Thursday (tomorrow) morning to see Damanhur which per its own website is “an international community founded by spiritual researchers, pushing the boundaries of perception to bring catalyzed personal-collective growth, and galactic understanding of our connection to the universe.’ Those of you who know me well are probably laughing already, but we really wanted to see this place which includes what looks like an amazing subterranean ‘cathedral’ that they call ‘the Temples of Humankind.’ The complex was dug by hand into the mountain. It’s decorated with mosaics, stained glass, sculptures, and wall paintings. You can google it and see why we were interested in seeing it. We did however laugh and say that we would send word out that if you didn’t receive a blog from me tomorrow night you should send out a search party, since it’s clearly some kind of cult and perhaps we were kidnapped! (Only kidding). After the visit to Damanhur, we planned to head to Milan for four nights and then on to Geneva.
But a few things happened and the final one just toppled the plans.
Both of us had developed bad colds—congestion and coughing—around the time we got to Verona. Once this started, I took the antibiotic I had brought with me because it was clear that it was bacterial. It seemed to begin to ease the symptoms for me. (I must have been to about three pharmacies for various over-the-counter remedies for both of us: cough medicine, nasal spray, lozenges, etc..) But just as the cold (for me) was easing up, I got a gout attack, which normally is not a big deal (I take a pill for the gout daily and thus don’t usually get any gout attacks, but somehow I got this gout attack (maybe too much wine), which really is like having a bunion or some sore on your foot; no real visual sign, but it hurts. Anyway, because I was taking the antibiotic for the cold/virus I wasn’t sure if I could take the gout medicine. I googled and really didn’t understand the answer, so I went to two pharmacies in Verona. The pharmacist said “Nessun problema” translated to “no problem.” But I was very wary because I wasn’t sure he really understood the question and initially thought I wanted to refill the prescription. So I went to a second pharmacy, and they pretty much also said that it wasn’t a problem. But the way I understood the information on Google, I thought it said the opposite. So I didn’t take the gout medicine and figured I’d suffer with the pain for a few days.
But Mike really felt miserable this morning as we set out on our drive. We got to Brescia and stopped for lunch and decided at that point to ditch the Castle and Damanhur and head directly for Milan, where Mike could just jump into bed and sleep off his cold. Therein began a series of phone calls to cancel the castle and Damanhur and to see if the Hotel Gray in Milan could take us for an extra night, arriving tonight instead of tomorrow night. (Hope you’re following all of this mess.) When we stopped in Brescia we went to yet another pharmacy, and again I showed the two pills and asked if there would be a negative reaction between the two. Again I was told it would be fine and again I was not sure the pharmacist understood the question.
So we drove on to Milan and Mike was feeling awful.. and I took over driving. We checked into the hotel which is located within earshot of the Duomo and the Galleria. Mike jumped into bed and I went to yet another pharmacy close by, thinking that as a big city I might get a pharmacist who spoke and understood more English and could explain any reaction between the drugs. Sure enough this pharmacist seemed to really understand the situation and warned against taking both drugs simultaneously. Glad I hadn’t taken the gout pill.
As I reached the Piazza del Duomo which is just down the street from the hotel and where the pharmacy was located, a woman with an amazing voice was singing (in Italian) Leonard Cohen’s “Hallelujah”.. It was magical. My memories of previous trips to Milan are all good and we were looking forward to these few days. To me, Milan is like the New York of Italy, in spite of the fact that it only has about 1.3 million people. But I couldn’t hang out. Went back to the hotel and we both realized we should take the Covid test (which we brought with us).
Mike tested positive; I am negative. Then the recommended procedures began to settle in. I am now in a separate room at the hotel; Mike is in the original room. I had to quickly gather my things and thankfully was able to get the only vacant room at the hotel—which is a weird room, and hopefully they will move me to another room tomorrow. Mike is having all his meals by room service. The menu is very very limited (surprising given the rates we are paying for the hotel!) And we are now paying for two rooms. The 5-night stay will be like a mortgage payment… maybe higher. But it is for the best.
The hotel did seem to know all the protocols. And I have reviewed everything online on the CDC’s site. Assuming I continue to test negative, it seems that I can move about out in Milan, but I will avoid going inside places and given that we are traveling alone and I’m now without Mike, I’m really traveling alone, I don’t think I can spread anything to anyone. Mike will continue to test daily and we will see what transpires. I will also test daily. Our big question really deals with whether or not we can actually leave Milan in 5 days (supposedly that’s the recommended isolation period for Mike)… which would be Monday and that is exactly when we are supposed to head to Geneva, by train. Assuming I continue to be negative (keep fingers crossed), and I isolate for 24 hours, I’m free to move about. But we shall see how comfortable the family in Geneva is with all of this. Stay tuned.
The challenge now will be meals for Mike. The hotel, surprisingly at these rates, has a very tiny restaurant (and limited menu choices,) and having just had dinner at the restaurant, my report is that it is not very good. We had reservations for several wonderful dinners here in Milan. Anyway, we are glad to be in Milan, but a bit deflated. And Mike is not so good. We brought Paxlovid with us so he’s already on the regimen. If I test positive, I’ll need to rely on whatever drugs Italy is using since we only had one Paxlovid regimen with us. Since Mike already had Covid once—about a year ago–when we asked for the Paxlovid we figured it would be for me.
Fortunately we are not at the one star Verona hotel! The Gray is upscale and pleasant (although rooms are small), we both get CNN in our respective rooms; and I even found Law and Order in English! So I’m really set….
More tomorrow.
All the best. Stay safe.
Fern
Fern's Travel Notes 