When Bill Chalmers announced during
our last night in Abu Dhabi that our next stop was Milan, I was excited -- for
disparate reasons. First, I hadn’t been to Italy in almost 20 years, and in the
past, had only been to Rome. So, I was eager to see how Milan would be. Second,
I knew Milan is the capital of the fashion world and I secretly hoped I would
bump into either or both Domenico Dolce and Stefano Gabbana so I could verbally
chastise them with as large an audience on hand as possible before some
security guard hauled me away. The very idea of two gay men – who were once
romantic partners – condemning surrogate parenting is nothing short of
outrageous. I agree with Elton John – both their ideas and their fashions are
outdated. But, as usual, I digress.
Mainly,
I suspected this meant the European leg of the trip would involve Italy, France
and Spain. The way the European part of this event works is as follows: We fly
into one city and are then told we’re on our own for three to four days and
will meet in a nearby city, usually a couple of countries away. Scavenges for
points are offered for all adjacent countries. And the truly serious two-person
team competitors (here, the Sydney Sisters, Buns & Bird, Lawyers Without
Borders, the Savvy Scavengers and the Tatakau Brothers) will probably visit all
or most of these countries (likely three or four different countries) in the
four-day period. I admire their tenacity, dedication, commitment and hard work.
They are driven people. But I am not. At least, not when it comes to play. I’m
on vacation. I am competitive, driven and tenacious when I’m at work. When I’m
on holiday, I want to relax. So, I want to see the world, but not all of it. I
want to savor what I do.
The
most special event in Milan to me demonstrates my mentality. I saw some amazing
historical places in the city, but the highlight of my one day there involved
none of this. Rather, it involved a simple but wonderful dinner I had with four
new friends on this event the night we were together in the city. All of the
participants become close during this trip, as you can imagine. We spend
countless hours together in airports, on airplanes, in hotel lobbies and
bumping into each other on the scavenge trail. I’ve known and worked with
Lawyers Without Borders for over a decade and I’ve known Zoe’s kids, the
Tatakau Brothers, since they were prepubescent (I’m sure they’d love reading
that). But I have also become close to the teams I didn’t really know before
this trip. The Savvy Scavengers are kind and delightful, as are Buns &
Bird, who are here on their honeymoon. The Sydney Sisters are a riot –
hilarious Aussies who couldn’t be more fun to be around, even if they are
running around like chickens with their heads cut off (after all, they’re in
first place). But the folks with whom I’ve become closest are Jim, Betty,
Michael and Nita. Their team names escape me at the moment because our
friendship has transcended such formality.
We
had dinner together Friday night at a small trattoria that the concierge at the
hotel had recommended. We wanted authentic Italian food. The restaurant was a
quaint but unassuming place. The food was delicious. Our waiter, who looked as
though he stepped out of the pages of International Male magazine, was
attentive and kept the food (and for some, the wine) flowing. We talked. We
laughed -- constantly. We learned a lot about each other. We learned that we
share the same political leanings (no, we won’t be voting for any of the dozens
of seemingly deranged Presidential candidates from a particular political party
that will remain nameless). We told stories. We reminisced, praised and
lamented over our trip experiences. And we became even closer during that
dinner than we had been before.
Isn’t
it amazing that it sometimes takes traveling halfway around the world to
develop important relationships with people who reside within your own
country’s borders? I would not have met any of these wonderful people outside
this event and quite frankly, if the trip had been a wash in every respect (and
it has actually been wonderful in every respect), just developing the
association with these individuals would have been well worth the cost.
Ironically, Bill and Pamela Chalmers, the event directors, aim for us to
interact with people from different cultures. That is why the scavenges cannot
be accomplished with use of technology, tour guides, hired drivers or anything
other than input from locals and public transportation. But for me, the
interactions that have mattered most are those with the people participating in
this very event. And I’ve had no trouble communicating with them at all.
This
is not to say I spent the whole day eating. The five of us visited three
extraordinary places before the lunch hour had even arrived. One was the
refectory of the Convent of Santa Maria delle Grazie. Now, why would I want to
visit such a place? You know I’m not religious, I don’t generally care for nuns
(who used to beat my mother’s hands with a ruler in parochial school), I don’t
care for Catholicism (I couldn’t even pass an exam in CCD since I had no
interest whatsoever in the fiction). Well, this refectory contains the wall
where Leonardo di Vinci (I almost said “DiCaprio,” which shows you what a
Philistine I really am) painted “The Last Supper.” This is the famous painting
depicting Jesus and the apostles all sitting on one side of the table (which is
odd, since we know they weren’t watching a movie back then). The moment di
Vinci purports to capture is the moment Jesus announces that one of those
present was about to betray him. The painting is beautiful. It has
deteriorated. It is historical. I was in awe, primarily because of the
historical significance of the event – not the Last Supper, which I don’t even
know ever occurred. But I was in awe of di Vinci’s painting, which is
considered one of the greatest works of art. I can’t provide photos because we
were forbidden to take any. But here is a general one from the internet:
We
also visited Teatro alla Scalla, the world’s most famous opera house. The place
where the opera greats throughout history performed. I’m not a huge opera buff,
by any means, but again, this place creates historical awe. More importantly, I
am fascinated by sheer brilliance of the design. Beyond a small number of what
we might call “orchestra seats,” the venue consists almost entirely of box
seats. That was apparently due to the fact that in prior centuries, the boxes
were used for “socializing” that often occurred while shows were occurring (one
might infer that a bit of debauchery went on behind closed curtains).
Eventually, the place became a true listening center. Frankly, I didn’t see a
bad seat in the house. The royal box itself is located in an area that might be
deemed the balcony in an American theater. But this place is so well-designed
that the royal box in the back of the theater was arguably the best venue in
the building.
We
also visited one of the most incredibly detailed cathedrals I’ve seen in some
time – the Duomo. It was utterly awe-inspiring.
And
walking through the gorgeous galleria of shops adjacent to the cathedral was
nice as well.
But
honestly, is it really necessary for McDonald’s to contaminate the great
historical sites of all time by locating one of their grotesque fast food dumps
– serving the worse grub known to humankind – worse even than any other fast
food restaurant – thereby giving people a horrible impression of American
cuisine and what kind of food Americans enjoy – right smack in the middle of a
great historical site? When I asked the tour director about this, she noted
that McDonald’s used to be on the main road of the Galleria rather than the
corner to which it is now relegated. She said some people were disappointed by
the move because McDonald’s was the only place where you could use the restroom
for free. Ultimately, I suppose she’s right. McDonald’s doesn’t offer anything
cultural and certainly provides nothing in the way of edible cuisine. It is
probably best viewed as a public toilet.
We
visited a magnificent castle, too, but frankly, castles are a dime a dozen in
Europe. (The comedian, Eddie Izzard once remarked during his first American
show: “I’m from Europe. You know, where the history is from?”). So, I won’t go
into detail on that. (Now you know just how much of a Philistine I am.)
The
bottom line? The highlight of this leg of the trip was the marvelous dinner
with my newfound friends.
No comments:
Post a Comment