Winter Holidays: A Good Time to Visit Italy

While many people dream of Italy, it seems that most can’t picture it outside the summer season. I’ve seen messages on the Lonely Planet boards asking: “Is it worthwhile to even go to Italy in winter?”

Well, yes, it is, especially around the Christmas season. As elsewhere in the Christian world, this is Italy’s biggest holiday. In the days before Christmas, shops will be open late at night, decorated in gold and silver, red and white, with lights everywhere, and the sidewalks are literally red-carpeted. There are concerts and events, street fairs and markets, and everyone is cheerful, perhaps because for once we’re all thinking about other people (i.e., what to get them for presents).

You probably don’t want to be on the road, though. Extended families travel to be together for the holiday. It’s rare for anyone to go elsewhere on vacation at Christmas; the proverb says: “Natale con i tuoi, Pasqua dove vuoi.” (“Christmas with your parents, Easter where you like.”) Millions of people travel by car (all those presents to carry!), so holiday highway traffic in Italy is horrible in the days just before Christmas and for the re-entry around the Epiphany.
Cartier - Milan
Shops are open until late on Christmas Eve, then everything shuts down for Christmas day. Except bars – you can always get coffee in Italy. Shops are also all closed on December 26th, the festa di Santo Stefano, but restaurants and at least some tourist sites are open, because that’s the day when families traditionally go on a gita (a daytrip) together. The weather usually cooperates, too. Again, lots of traffic.

From the 27th to the 31st, most shops run normal schedules. Shop windows of all kinds are suddenly full of red underwear, because wearing red underwear on New Year’s eve brings good luck for the new year. Plebeian cotton or sexy silk: doesn’t matter, as long as it’s red. I’m not sure whether it’s also required to be new, but undoubtedly the shopkeepers would tell me that it is!

New Year’s is party time, often in large gatherings of friends or, if you’ve gone off skiing or something, in paid large parties at hotels, restaurants, etc. An Italian New Year’s Eve party usually involves talking, dancing, drinking (though rarely to excess), and continuous eating, with a big feast after the stroke of midnight. This feast always includes lentils because, the more lentils you eat, the more money you will earn in the new year.

Another holiday tradition in Italy is gambling. This is about the only time of year that I see Italian families play cards or table games. The traditional games are mercante in fiera (“The merchant at the fair,” a card game about trading for goods), briscola (another card game), and tombola (bingo), all usually played for small sums of money.

For a big party one year, our friend Sandro created a quiz-show style game with questions in categories (history, sports, etc.), played in teams of four. Because he’s an ex-seminarian, one of Sandro’s categories was “religion.” Enrico and I are both unrepentant and unconverted survivors of religious schools. Much to our surprise, we won the whole game. We didn’t know anything about sports, but we were the only ones who could answer anything in the religion category (even though everyone else in the room would probably have claimed to be Catholic, if asked).

Everything is closed again on January 1st, and more or less back to normal on the 2nd. Then closed again on the 6th, the Feast of the Epiphany, the day that the magi arrived in Bethlehem bearing gifts. In Italian tradition, the Befana, a witchy-looking old crone, brings presents to the good kids and carbone (coal) to the bad ones. That is why you’ll see shops and stalls selling witches alongside Santa Clauses (an import) and lumps of black sugar “carbone.” These days, the Befana is an excuse for kids to extort yet more presents from everybody. Perhaps this is forgivable, since the Epiphany is the end of the holiday season; school starts again on the 7th.

Milano: Italy’s Under-Appreciated City

Going to Milan for the Expo? Check out these great tips on  Where to Eat, Play and Stay and What You Need to Know.

FAQs

Getting from the airport to the city:

Left luggage room at Malpensa: on the Arrivals floor, go down the corridor to the right (past the bus/train ticket office) and you’ll see it on your left. They will x-ray your luggage and charge 2.50 euros per piece per day.

Getting around Milan: public transport.

Taxis can be found at marked taxi stands throughout the city, or can be called at any of these numbers: 02-8585, 02-6969, 02-4040 (if you need a taxi at a particular time, you can reserve in advance). They are not allowed to stop for pickup just anywhere, so it is usually ineffective to try to flag them down. Taxis in Milan are expensive. A taxi from the city to Malpensa airport will cost at least 100 euros.

March, 2006, Milan Central Station - the police have new toys!

In Defense of Milan

Nov 14, 2003

Many travelers to Italy seem to be stuck in a rut: the travel forums are an endless litany of Florence, Rome, and Venice. Personally, I don’t even like Florence, but I’ll save that rant for another time. (I hate crowds, especially crowds of tourists where I’m likely to be thought one of them.) So I like to go to the out-of-the-way places, a few of which are mentioned here on my site.

Poor Milan is very mistreated by would-be tourists. Travelers advise each other to skip it: “There’s nothing worth seeing.€”

I beg to differ. Leonardo da Vinci spent some of his most productive years in Milan; we have a castle (Castello Sforzesco) and the Last Supperto prove it. It took me ten years to get to the Last Supper, and I wish I’d gone sooner. Book tickets for the Last Supper here – most of the year you do need to book in advance.

If you care at all about classical music (including opera and ballet), there’s La Scala.

If you like shopping, Milan is one of the fashion and shopping capitals of the world. It’s great fun simply to walk around and look, even if you’re not buying. See it in Milan first; you’ll be wearing it in the US next year.

Oh, yes, and there’s also the Duomo, one of the world’s largest and most overdone cathedrals; think of it as fractal Gothic. 600 years and they’re still building on.

Milan is also within easy reach of some of the most beautiful places in the world, such as Lake Como.

detail, Milan Duomodetail, Milan Duomo

Shopping

Milan has what is probably the world’s oldest shopping mall, the originalGalleria, in the heart of downtown next to the Duomo. But you won’t find “big box” malls such as they have in the US. There are a few, way outside town, but they are mostly discount stores and not very exciting unless you live here. Way, WAAAAY out of town there is the Serravalle Outlet Mall. I’ve never been there, but it’s been favorably covered in the New York Times.

If you want high-fashion clothing and are willing to pay Milan prices (ouch!), the fashion district is also near downtown, around via Montenapoleone and via della Spiga. The shops in Corso Vittorio Emmanuele are slightly more reasonably-priced, cheaper still is Corso Buenos Aires.

The Economist Guide to Shopping in Milan

detail, Milan Duomo

Bible Stories

When Rossella was still in preschool and I was travelling to the US a lot for work, I brought her with me several times on extended trips, usually while Enrico was also travelling for mathematical research. So Ross experienced daycare in several different places in America, which was good for her English, and gave her exposure to American culture.

The year she was four, she was slated to spent some time with me in California. Before she arrived (accompanied by Enrico), I went to look at daycare centers with the wife of one of my Italian colleagues, who also had a young child. At one center the owner said, in a very aggressive tone: “I have all the kids recite the Pledge of Allegiance every morning.”

I had my own run-in with the Pledge when I was a kid, so you can imagine how I felt about this. “But these kids aren’t even American,” I protested.

“All the more reason for them to realize how lucky they are to be here!” she snapped. We decided against that place.

The only other option was an avowedly Christian daycare center. I was worried about what kind of indoctrination we might come up against, but the place was bright, cheerful, and clean, and I liked the staff, so I decided to risk it. I gave Ross a talk about how these people might tell her a lot of stuff about God, and she wasn’t to feel bad or strange if she didn’t agree with it; she was always free to make up her own mind.

She came home one evening and told me excitedly about the Bible stories she had heard that day: the adventures of Jonah and the whale, and Noah.

“Do you think that stuff is true?” I asked worriedly.

“Oh, no!” she said brightly. “They said they were stories!”

Nov 18, 2003

My friend Ivo wrote: “When I was in the US on my first day of high school [9th grade, in Georgia] I got the teacher yelling at me because I didn’t stand and recite the pledge! He said: “Are you Russian!? Would you prefer to be in Russia!?”

When I explained that I was Italian and had no idea of what that funny thing was, we found an agreement, and for the remaining 2 and a half years I was expected to stand up, but could avoid speaking or keeping my hand over my heart!”

My Attitude Towards Italy

I received email from someone who had visited my website, read a few articles, and concluded that I don’t like Italy much. I am confused by this, especially since the articles she cited (BabiesHomes, and one other, I forget which) didn’t strike me as negative. I see my articles as statements of fact, though written in a wryly ironic tone that might confuse some people, especially if they come looking for “Under the Tuscan Sun”-style warm fuzzies about Italy.

So, in case it needs clarifying, let me clarify: I do love Italy, and am very happy to live here. It’s probably the best place in the world for me to live, and, even if it wasn’t, my family is there, and that pretty much settles the question.

But I don’t love Italy blindly. I didn’t move here because I had always dreamed of living here*. So I don’t have particular dreams about Italy to keep alive, and can allow myself to see the bad as well as the good. And I’m not trying to make money out of writing about Italy (well, it would be nice…), so I don’t have to write the kind of sunshine-and-red-wine stuff that most people seem to want to read. The Italy I live in has much to recommend it, but it’s not the Italy you see in glossy coffee-table books. The Italian families I know are not the warm, boisterous, suffocating crowds you see in American sit-coms and movies. My family, friends, and neighbors are real, modern Italians, who rarely conform to Italian-American stereotypes.

I’m beginning to think that I should write a book about real life in Italy. Not to scare people off, but to point out that daily life in Italy has its own stresses and pains, just as daily life anywhere does. A good bottle of wine with a good meal is a lovely thing to have (even better when combined with a marvelous view), but it doesn’t cure all ills.

You know what’s really ironic? The average Italian on the street is astonished that I would rather live in Italy than America, or that anyone would (I have had this conversation with many taxi drivers). Like much of the rest of the world, Italians see America as the land of opportunity and riches, of wide open spaces and huge houses. Most of them would not willingly leave Italy permanently, yet they seem to wish that they could participate in the American dream. And they are absolutely floored to be told that many Americans dream – of living in Italy.

*If you’re wondering why I did move here… go here.

Very Supertitious: Some Italian Folk Beliefs

Most Italians are not very religious, but they can be strangely superstitious. Purple and black are the colors of mourning, so wearing purple is considered bad luck. Bad luck for me – I happen to like wearing purple, but I know that, whenever I do, someone will comment. (Wearing black is okay – black is always in fashion.) Italians also have a bad luck day, Friday the 17th. The number 17 in general is considered somewhat unlucky, but Italians don’t take things as far as Americans, who sometimes omit 13 when numbering floors or rooms in a building.

My husband, a very rational man in most things, can’t stand to see a hat left on a bed. It’s obviously a reflex with him, and by dint of repetition has become a reflex with me. I come in on a winter’s day and throw my coat, hat, and scarf on the bed, but feel immediately compelled to move the hat somewhere else, even if Enrico is nowhere in sight. But I find myself wondering about the exact terms of the curse: when exactly is a hat considered to be ON the bed, and what kind of hat? If I hang a hat on a bedpost, is that the same as putting it on the bed? What about a hat resting on top of something else that’s on the bed? Or a hat inside a coat pocket or backpack that’s on the bed? Is it only a brimmed hat that’s dangerous, or does the risk apply to anything in the hat category? Ski hat? Balaclava?

Jan 25, 2007 – My friend QT was driven to do some research on this, and found the probable origin of this superstition:

I preti, almeno sino ad alcuni decenni fa (e i piu’ tradizionalisti e/o anziani ancora oggi) portavano sempre quel loro strano cappello e non lo toglievano entrando in un edificio, pero’ se e quando si recavano da un moribondo per l’estrema unzione e confessione devono toglierselo per mettersi i paramenti ed ecco che il prete, che a questo punto e’ in genere seduto o in piedi accanto al moribondo nel suo letto, si toglie il cappello e lo posa sulla superficie piana piu’ vicina, il letto, appunto!

Ecco quindi spiegato l’arcano, un cappello sul letto richiamerebbe una scena di morte imminente o appena avvenuta.

“Priests, at least up to a few decades ago (and the more traditional and/or old ones still today) always wore that strange hat of theirs, and never took it off even inside a building. However, when they went to the beside of the dying for extreme unction and confession, they had to take it off to put on their vestments. Then you would see the priest, who at this point was usually seated or standing next to the dying person in their bed, take off his hat and put it on the nearest flat surface – the bed!

This explains the arcane: a hat on the bed recalls a scene of death (imminent or just occurred).”


There are also medical superstitions. The colpo d’aria (“punch of air” – a draft) is considered extremely dangerous, causing anything from a cold to paralysis. One friend claims to have suffered a day-long stiffening of one side of her face and neck, due to riding in a fast-moving car with the window down so that cold air was blowing on her.

In the early years of our relationship, Enrico and I argued about whether a window could be left open, even during the hottest summer nights, because it would allow a draft to blow onto our heads, with possibly fatal consequences. I was scornful of this, having grown up in Bangkok sleeping under a window air conditioner set so cold that it would freeze solid at night. We finally solved the dilemma by moving the bed away from the windows. Early on in Milan, he never wanted a fan to blow on him, but with the increasingly hot summers we’ve been having, we moved from a standing fan to a ceiling fan, and I guess he’s gotten used to it. Some nights this summer, we had BOTH fans blowing full on us – there was no other way to sleep in the heat.

The funny thing is, the colpo d’aria never seems to strike below the waist. An Italian woman who would cringe from the slightest draft coming in a window will go out in January’s worst winds, wearing a miniskirt, sheer stockings, and skimpy high heels.

Deirdré Straughan on Italy, India, the Internet, the world, and now Australia