Not All Who Wander Are Lost . . .

Disclaimer:  I am no longer in Milan but I wrote the posts day by day when I was there.  Feel free to comment and ask questions just as if I were still in Italy.

Buon giorno!
Not all who wander are lost . . . But quite a few of us are!
This was not entirely my fault. The guidebook called the museum by one name, but the city of Milan called it something else entirely, so I walked past my destination twice and ended up making a big circle around to end up where I started.
And molto grazie to the kind woman walking her dog in the Giardini Publica.  She spoke no English but understood the word toilet and pointed me in the right direction.
So after much walking, asking a policeman for directions, walking etc.  I approached the building from the other side.  The architectural style was the period I was looking for--late eighteenth, so I determined to go in anyway.  Milan calls this the Museum of Modern Art, and I guess if your history goes back to before the Roman Empire, you can call paintings of the Renaissance modern.  The range goes up to the nineteenth century, but the building most elegant and more interesting than the paintings and sculptures.
My next stop was the Pinoteca Brea for some more art, but before I went in I had some gelato.  Indeed strolling down a charming cobbled street I encountered an old friend--Amorino.  If I patronize a place that uses a putto as its symbol you know the gelato has to be superlative.  I had Amarena, which is vanilla and cherries, Mandorga, which is almond, and a rich, dark chocolate.
Then on to the Pinoteca Brea.  The museum holds Milan's premier collection including the Dead Christ by Mantenga and Carravaggio's Supper At Emmaeus among other delights.  I especially enjoyed some light-filled views of Venice by the great Canaletto.
When I decided to come here and began my research, I soon discovered the Milanese were deeply style conscious, which anyone who has seen me knows I am not.  But I decided to dress in black to fit in and always to appear to know where I was going even if I didn't.  This worked.  In fact it worked too well because Italians kept asking me for directions.
The Museo Bagatti Valsecchi an attempt to recreate the Renaissance by two old money Milensi and proved marvelous place to visit, but I don't see how anyone could actually live there. The place is a expert mixture of genuine Renaissance furniture an art and some carefully contrived reproductions. Many of the objects were repurposed.  For example the relief from an altarpiece became a head board. One of the most delightful finds were some tiny chairs, a child's toilet, and a round wooden walker for a toddler.
I have been moved out of the big suite into a smaller one.  Marco told me this would happen when I checked in.  I still have the superlative view, but this time the (somewhat smaller)  bathroom is done up in green marble with bluish veins.  There's a giant tub with a jacuzzi--and a bidet, of course.
For dinner I had canneloni with spinach and ricotta cooked in the microwave.   It's just like home.  You can pick up ready-made dinners at the grocery.
Ciao!