In Between

Last Friday was the big move from Basel to Sestri. With two cars, two grandparents, two parents, three car seats and six weeks' worth of everyone's luggage there was not room enough for me so I got to take the train. My trip consisted of two legs: from Basel to Milan and then from Milan to Sestri Levante.

The Basel SBB train, being Swiss, was orderly, quiet, clean and early to most stops. Our route was through the Alps and I could not have asked better scenery. Small Swiss towns dotted the sides of the moutains and I could occaisionally see little blonde children playing in the fields. It was right out of a story book. My eyes were led from snows covered caps to the green sides of the mountains by steeps rivers rushing downwards. Absolutely breathtaking.

I scheduled myself a four hour layover in Milan so when I arrived at Stazione Centrale I hurried off the train to look for the metro. With a whopping six lines, Milan's metro is 3x the size of Rome's. I searched for the yellow line, went four stops west and emerged from underground to one of the most awesome sights in my travels: Milan's Duomo.

The front of the Duomo has recently been cleaned, so its white sand stone contrasts starkly with the brown tones of the buildings surrounding its massive square. It's topped by a gold statue of Mary, which at the time was shining brilliantly under the incredibly hot sun. The buildiong's copper doors are now oxidized darkened green, but at common points where people touch you can see thge metallic sheen. And the doors, oh what doors! Four sets of double doors lead into the church, each set depicting different sections of Chrstian history: the Old Testament, the Gospels, the rest of the New Testament and one is dedicated to the martyrs. I could have stood for hours just looking at those doors.

As I only had about three hours though, I entered the Church. The juxtaposition of the stark white exteriors with the very dark interior blinds you while your eyes adjust, but once they do they dart around because there is so much to take in. I find I always have to control myself in churches like this one - I have to reign in the urge to say "ooh, that looks interesting and7or beautiful, I'll run over and look at that!" I attacked St. Peter's in Rome this way the first time I entered and wound up darting back and forth between chapels and not really taking anything in. So I was very methodical at the Duomo, going down the left, circling around the altar and coming back up the right aisle.

The whole route took me most of my three hours, and the greater part of that time was spent looking at the three great stained glass window collages at the back of the church. As far as I could tell, the first set tells the story of the Torah pictorially, the second the story of Jesus' life, death and resurrection, and the third depicts the lives of assorted saints. Each set must have been made up of at least one hundrer 2' x 2' windows. I cannot imagine how much labor was invested in the endeavor.

When I exited the Duomo I decided to get a gelatro and study the doors once more with my remaining fifteen minutes. As I was standing there, cone in hand, I unbelievably saw a familiar face - one of my classmates from back in the States. He was stopping off in Milan for two hours and we both happned to be in the right place at the right time. We said hi, marveled at our meeting, and then I had to reented the metro to make my way back to Centrale.

Centrale is a bit frenetic and very dirty, but it has beautiful architecture and serves its purpose, so one can't complain. As I was staring at the ticker board, I saw a train to Rome that left five minutes after mine and for a good 10 seconds I seriously considered boarding that one and letting my employers keep the luggage they were transporting for me. But I thought better of it and with unquenched nostalgia I boarded my two and half hour train to Sestri.

The Trenitalia train, being Italian, was hectic, dirty, crowded, and late to almost every station. I found out I didn't have seat, so I popped a squat on some steps and hung out near a bathroom for most of the trip. It was actually more comfortable than a tiny train seat and my position privvied me to all sorts of characters boarding, exiting and travelling throuh the train cars, including one fellow who locked himself in the bathroom in an attempt to ride for free. His plan was thwarted after one passenger tried to use the toilet three times and finally notified one of the conductors. The carabinieri were then summoned and the would-be free-rider was kicked off the train at the next stop.

The rest of the ride was relatively unevenful and I claimed a spot on the sea-side of the train after we reached Genova. I was content to stand and look at the Adriatic for the hour that remained until I reached Sestri.