Despite my near miss when I accidentally boarded the Tirana to Rome, rather than the correct Tirana to Bergamo flight, we landed in Bergamo on time at 10am. My flight back to Ireland was not until 9pm the following evening. My trip had been extended for a specific reason – I wanted to finally visit ‘The Last Supper’ by Leonardo DaVinci in Milan. This is a painting I have wanted to see since childhood. It’s not an easy undertaking, however. Located in a climate and temperature-controlled monastery, visitors are strictly limited in number. Tickets to see it are like gold dust. I had forked out fifty-four euros for a guided tour of the painting – justifying the price with the realisation that unless I was willing to pay this amount then I’d never likely see it.

I took a bus from Caravaggio Airport in Bergamo to the Central Rail station from there I walked to my hotel which took an hour. This was my first time in Italy’s second largest city.

Milan had never been high on my list of places I wished to visit. Italy is such a beautiful country there always seemed to be a more appealing option. This time was different.

After dropping my bags at my hotel, I strolled over to the Duomo di Milano – the ridiculously ornate cathedral of Milan. It’s an architectural marvel on a par with the Sagrada Familia in Barcelona. To take the lift to the roof was more expensive than to take the stairs but it was my chosen option. Having walked an average of twenty kilometres per day while in Albania my leggies were exhausted. I must give props to the Catholic Church – they know how to do a glamourous church.

I spent an hour on the roof and inside the church before exiting on the Piazza Del Duomo and made my way to the Grand Galleria Vittorio Emanuele II on the square. This is an opulent nineteenth century shopping mall housing all the unaffordable Italian designer labels – Milan is a world centre of fashion on a par with Paris and New York. You can tell – the locals are impossibly thin, beautiful, and stylish. I didn’t buy anything. The prices were not visible on many items indicating that it would require a mortgage to buy them.

Making my way to La Scala opera house I noticed a queue coming out the door. There was a self-guided tour of the place. I waited in line behind an Italian woman who took about fifteen minutes to purchase her ticket. Why rush I guess. It’s an interesting building with an informative museum included. Not quite on a par with La Fenice in Venice, but in the vicinity.

The fifteenth century Castello Sforzesco is located a fifteen-minute walk away. Relieved to discover that its museum was closed on Monday I whiled away an hour wandering about its grounds, before heading back to my hotel.

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