6 June--Galleria

Ristorante il Salatta, Via Baracchini 9 Milano: This is where we ate our first Italian dinner, more as a method of keeping away the jet lag than a need to satiate any type of hunger. It was in the Galleria, an immense area of halls higher than arches should be able to stand, with mosaics on the floors (including a bull that Rachel twirled upon for good luck), and mosaic on some of the arches near the ceiling, and incredibly ornate stonework, and glass domes, and carvings everywhere. It looked exactly like one of those old architectural drawings in which the sketch lines are still visible. One of the most amazing things about the city is its tricks on “traditional perspective—and by “traditional” I mean “what I’m used to.” The streets are crooked and lean over onto each other, the buildings are tall, but not so tall that you don’t see them, and because of the combination of these two things the light falls on certain façades while leaving others dark, and the result is a David Hockney painting, or a dream I once had. Good night, Milano.