Milan

We arrived by train to Milan yesterday. Whereas Venice is a very unique city in the sense that it is trapped in a bubble of history, Milan is a strange mixture of modern and old world. Milan is considered one of the foremost fashion capitals of the world and it is prevalent in the attire and attitude of everyone here. The women are dressed in the most up-to-date fashions in both dress and accessories and are unbelievably beautiful. The men, too, are all very well put together in dress and look. When you open a fashion magazine like Vogue or Elle, it's the inhabitants of Milan that you are seeing. Models walk by on the street right out of the catalogs. It is quite surreal.

People have called Portland a "European" city, which I always thought was just a bunch of pretentious people in a small town trying to be cooler than they actually are. Don't get me wrong: I love my home city. I think that after you've lived in Portland for a while, you tend to take for granted all the things that make up the city's culture and forget that many of its bragging rights are actually quite well deserved. I haven't been very many places within the U.S., but I have yet to find a city that's quite like Portland. It's home and I miss it very much.

Especially considering where I am now. Like I said, people say Portland is a very "European" city. I now understand what they mean. Milan reminds me of Portland so much, it's hard not to walk around the corner of one of its historical architectural buildings and imagine seeing Powell's Books in the distance or Rock Bottom in one of the many commercial areas on the ground floor. It's raining like it's an average winter day in P-town: cold but not hard, a light drizzle that comes and goes like a mood swing. I've given up the light travel clothes I bore with me to such exotically hot places like Australia and Thailand in exchange for a light sweater, a hoodie, jeans, a scarf, and a coat. Every time I go outside, I bundle like I used to on chilly days in Portland: like I'm preparing for a war with the elements... or at least a friendly skirmish on the streets of my hometown.

I love this weather. I can't imagine living anywhere that doesn't have this kind of wet sheen on the pavement or these kind of green, lush grassy parks where bundled people walk like it's just another day. I love breathing refreshingly brisk air and drinking cappuccinos cooled by the frosty mist of my exhaled breath. Milan reminds me of home more than anywhere else I have been. I could easily find myself here again and again.

My Italian is still weak, but I'm trying my best. I get mostly amused frustration at my innocent ignorance and a patient understanding at my poor mispronunciation at even the most basic turns of phrase. But! I got "pronto", "prego", "gratzie", "permisso", and "ciao" down pat. And, of course "toilette?" I want to learn this language so bad if for no other reason than, when I come back here, I can get by knowing what's being said to me and with the confidence to say it back to the locals. Because I will be back here. On that, you can guarantee.

So far, out of all the places we've been to on this trip, the top three are:

1) Venice
2) Phuket
and
3) Sydney/Melbourne

I include Sydney and Melbourne together because both are close enough to visit back-to-back as one trip. Phuket and the Indigo Pearl resort was heaven on earth. And Venice?

Ahh, Venice...

Venice is my new permanent vacation destination. Plus, it's only an hour train ride away from Milan if I ever get homesick for Portland and want that feeling again while I'm in Italy.


By the way... to be able to say I'm Italy is kind of a dream I thought I never thought would be possible. Growing up, listening to albums like "Get In the Van" and "Black Coffee Blues" by Rollins, and wishing I could get out there, as far away from my suburban nightmare and the incestuousness of a small town as I could; I always felt as if I would never amass enough financial stability or courage to see where my comfort level bottomed out and my true reserve began. I now know, above all things, that the instinct to build a nest around you and trap yourself within it with all the modern convenience and entertainment distraction one could need for a lifetime of solitary existence is a confinement that is completely self-imposed.

Yes, money is a necessary commodity to allow you to get you out of your world. And I know, better than most, that it seems as if (if you are like myself or, as I believe, most people) there will never be a way to gain enough financial leeway to make a journey away possible. And I completely recognize that my particular situation allows me a modicum of leisure in my travels. But the thing, I think, that keeps most people where they are is the illusion that you need to work to pay the bills to have a place to sleep so you can be rested for work so you can make a salary or paycheck so you can pay your rent and feed yourself so you can be well rested for the next day of work where you go to make a paycheck so you can afford the various forms of modern convenience and entertainment needed to sustain your leisure mind so you don't get so stressed out while you wait to go back to work tomorrow so you can make some money so you can support the life you've constructed for yourself.

This is the biggest lie society has told us: that you must construct a life that suits your wants and needs; that the expression of life is bound by the routines you have chosen to participate in and nothing more. But, regardless of the monetary good fortune which has allowed this trip to manifest for me and my wife, the truth is that travel is not an impossibility for anyone. Out here, I have seen so many people from all over the world who are in the places I'm in. Some have children. Some are simply vacationing or honeymooning. Some are just traveling. Some are working their way across the country. Some are on school trips and some are just out here. Some have friends they meet online who put them up or work the travel sites like pros. Some work the bargains like an art form, saving every penny from student discounts, traveling bonuses, credit card points, frequent flier miles, and hotel points like they're gold coins. The point is, they aren't at home right now. And that's pretty amazing. And, not surprisingly, very few of them are Americans.

(Regarding the Americans I have run into out in the world: I would like to personally apologize to every citizen of every country I have been to for their loud, obnoxious, raucous behavior. We're not all like that, I swear.)

Those of you who have traveled before in life, I have envied you for so long. I now get what you were talking about all those years of trying to pull your stories out of you. I'm out here now and it's life changing, even if the change is subtle and goes mostly unnoticed as it's happening. Thanks for feeding my ambition all those years.

To those of you who think that you "can't" or "will never", I can only say this: the only thing stopping you is you. Traveling is easy and it's a kind of living that is indescribable. It can seem like there will never be a way for you to tear yourself away from the life you're bound to. It can be scary and daunting.

You should also totally do it.

Everywhere I go, I want to take everyone I know to that place, wherever it happens to be. I hope this blog accomplishes at least a little bit of that in some weird "osmosis" way.

Okay, I've rambled on long enough. Time to pop open this bottle of wine I got at the grocery store and relax looking out over the wet streets of Milan.

Ciao, bella.


-d@n