Milaaano dahhhling

Lots of tourists in this city, making it an easy first city to visit. Passed a McBar (ew), a restaurant called Meat-ing, and a fantastic pastry shop window featuring marzipan creations of all kinds, including dentures (I have a photo!). Took in the duomo and (the exterior of) La Scala, as well as lots of other streets and windows before my stomach began to declare hunger.

Following Bjorn's strong reccomendation, I made my (long) way to a traditional Italian osteria a good hike away from most of the stuff worth seeing in town. After crossing a bridge and winding down a dirt path, I reached the restaurant, only to find that it was closed. "Chiuso per ferie" (Closed for vacation) signs were everywhere, and Bjorn had warned me how "slow" Milan is in August, but it hadn't occured to either of us that this place wouldn't be serving lunch today! Weak with hunger, I considered panicking.

Instead, I walked back to towards whence I had come, and stumbled across a very locals-only looking (no translations on the menu) pizzeria. Pulling nerve from necessity, I pushed open the door and greeted the first person I saw. It was easy to indicate that I was one, and easy to let on that I spoke little Italian. All I cared about was getting some food and drink in my hollow belly. And so I did. Half a huge pizza (7,50 euros), a small carafe of vino rosso (3,50 euros), and an entire large bottle of aqua minerale naturale (1,50) later, I was human again. Or, at least, slightly drunk and full of food.

After some mangled conversation about getting the rest of my meal to go, apparently not a common practice in Italy, I had my first experience with a pit toliet (oohoo! don't press that floor flusher early!). Then I was foot to pavement again. Walking in three block stretches between readings of my map, I made my way towards my next tourist destination: Il Castello. I found an empty bench and got off my feet. I contemplated my earlier plan to climb the tower of the duomo, the stylish girl mullet I saw atop so many heads, and the fact that I had forgotten to pack sunscreen. My arms were already warm and pink, and I feared the hue on my face. Vaguely craving sunglasses, a band-aid for my blistered heel, and someone to take care of me, I decided to stop playing tourist and start playing siesta. I beat it to Bjorn's (found it!) and laid down for a three hour nap.