I am a proud Milan citizen, in love with the madness of my city. I have seen it growing and becoming the cosmopolitan capital it is today, full of art and music. I have lived and admired it since I was a child. Milan was and it still is "my home". I used to spend my Sundays in Varesine with my father, the Saturdays in the Senigallia fair when it was still on the Navigli canal and eat Burghy sandwiches at the top of Vittorio Emanuele's spiral staircase. I still love taking public transports to look at the people, imagining their lives, what they do and where they are going. But you recognize people form Milan there, in the Duomo square: while tourists are taking pictures, they walk galloping, always in a hurry.
However, when they pass in front of the Duomo, they slow down and almost stop, looking at it with bright eyes and then, after a quick glance at the Gallery, they resume their daily commute.
Here: for me the Duomo is that. That pause, that breath that takes you away from any commitment, that stop that makes you say "home sweet home" and makes you lump up in your throat at the idea of not seeing it for a little too long.
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Via Carlo Maria Martini, 1 – Milano
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