This is the front altar of the Duomo. There is enough wealth in these 20 square meters to solve hunger problems in many countries, but that is another topic.
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Lusco Fusco is a cool Italian phrase that is meant to define the time between sunset and when it is dark. I don’t think we have a good word for that in English. It’s sort of like “dusk”, but darker and more “glowy”. And “lusco fusco” sounds way better than “darker than dusk but glowy.”
I thought this guy had a really cool scene going on, laying in the park behind the Basilica San Lorenzo with a ultra-bald head and ultra-gargantuan eyebrows, so I shot this picture. He didn’t speak English so I made the international symbol for “I am not gay but I want to take your picture.”
Okay the Mick bit first, since these really have nothing to do with one another.
I was at the Principe di Savoy here in Milan to have a meeting, and I found out that is where the Rolling Stones are staying for their concert tonight. I was first tipped off by the aging and drugged-out hippies that were standing outside the security gates peeking around for a view of any of these octogenarians. While I was inside, I was waiting around the lobby and all the sudden Mick Jagger came out of the elevator. There was a super-tall brunette with him (is that Jerry Hall? Are they still together? Did she dye her hair?).
Anyway, I walked right up to him when he came out and held out my hand.
He looked at me and shook my hand and said, “Hi, I’m Mick.”
I smiled because I thought it was funny that he introduced himself first and I said, “Hi, I’m Trey. I thought you were dead!”
He laughed and said something COMPLETELY unintelligble in British, and walked off with his bodyguards, all of whom were now eying me with a high degree of suspicion.
Okay now for the Duomo part.
From this view, it is not hard to see that this cathedral can hold over 40,000 people.
Here at the Hotel Spidari in central Milan, there is a tiny Italian woman downstairs that asks no questions and makes cappucinos all day. I’ve been eating breakfasts down there while reading my book… every time I look up, she is standing there like a ghostly madonna, holding a new cappucino with a bowl of unpronouncable sweetener products. Yesterday morning, after the game, I did not know what to say to her, so I said, “Viva Forza Italia,” to which she returned a grim expression and presented a fresh cappucino.
My sister also says I should post more pictures of myself… so here ya go!
On Saturday night I headed over to the Navigli canals area, which is a nicer area of Milan with all sorts of restaurants and litle artsy shops that stay open late. This is also the same canal they built specifically to barge in stone and other materials to build the Duomo. This canal had everything you would expect in a quaint European area: picturesque restaurants, unique cultural shops, and dozens of angry-looking Nigerians selling trinkets of the Eiffel Tower.