Those of you who've come to expect somewhat offbeat travelogues from me may be a tad disappointed by my next couple of entries. Due to several mitigating factors, unfamiliarity with Italy and France, lack of any proficiency in said languages, and the poor quality of the guide books I purchased (Lonely Planet sucks!*), I stuck pretty much to the standard tourist itineraries for both Milan and Paris.

I had Friday off, so I spent the day hoofing it through Milan. Several disappointments were in store for me, beginning with the fact that the facade of the Duomo was completely covered in scaffolding. However, I did take a long stroll through the gigantic interior. It was fascinating to be in a cathedral that was in use as an actual house of worship and not just a tourist attraction. I was pleased to find the remains of several Tupperware[TM] saints on display, wearing silver masques and encased in crystal coffins like Catholic Snow Whites waiting to be awakened by the kiss of Pope Charming the XVI. The rather gruesome statue of St. Bartholomew sans flesh was also quite interesting, Google failed to provide me with the actual image, but this should give you a general idea. Afterwards, I had a climb the steps up to the roof of the cathedral to get a better view of the statue-studded spires, then crossed the Piazza to view the wonders of the cathedral treasury.

Being the opera buff that I am, I felt that a pilgrimage to La Scala was a religious obligation, but sadly it was closed for restoration, so I must spend a few more years in purgatory before the gates of Verdi Heaven finally open for me.

Another station of the cross included a walk around the Quadrilatero d'Oro (Golden Quadrangle), Milan's hub of haute couture that has one of the world's densest concentration of designer fashion outlets. I didn't buy anything due to the generally outrageous prices (this ain't a spot for bargain hunting) but window shopping is still free and the opportunity to watch anorexic, overtanned fashion victims tottering around the cobblestone streets on 9-inch bondage heels was priceless.

*- I mean, c'mon, how can you publish a guide book for Milan that has no map of the Underground? And the French travel phrases section of the Parisian guidebook provides no phonetic pronunciation! A hostile Letter to the Editor is forthcoming from Yours Truly!