Macugnaga

While most of the people in our group are from the US, six are European. One of those had researched an interesting region nearby and invited a few of us to join him for a hike.

It's all so scenic. Even the drinking water..

We did see the occasional cyclist on the climb to the town of Macugnaga, but the drive from our home base took more than an hour. We skirted the town, heading straight for the cable car (La Regina dei Ghiacci, the Ice Queen) that would carry us almost to the top of the ridge.

Almost. It drops you off at an elevation of 9,465 feet. The Madonna delle Nevi (Madonna of the Snows) sits higher on the ridge at the Passo del Monte Moro.

We traversed a few snow fields before making our way up the rock.

It helps to be sure-footed. I was glad I'd brought my gloves, not just for the cold but to protect my hands as I gripped a chain to pull myself upward. The logs (held in place by iron rods driven into the rock) played more of a role on the way back down.

At these heights, the weather is always a factor. Would we see anything when we made it to the top, or would we be wrapped in a cloud?

The ridge is, more or less, the Italian/Swiss border. For a time, we had a clear view of the reservoir at the Mattmark Dam, and we chatted with a hiker who climbed up from the Swiss side.

And, of course, we got a close look at the golden statue.

As the clouds descended above our heads, it was prudent to head back down.

The summit of Monte Rosa was obscured, but we could see the base of the Belvedere glacier at the foot of the mountain. A few mountain goats were studying the view, too.

We had time for more exploring, so we headed toward Monte Rosa. An expeditious pair of chairlifts carried us partway up the mountain.

We hiked through the forest, and popped out on a narrow trail.

Stretched below us was the vast field of scree deposited by the Belvedere glacier.

As tempting as it was to hike down, it seemed dicey.

The trail was steep, and the surface was loose rock. We watched a pair of hikers (with poles) climb up, but it was our descent (without poles) that worried me.

We turned back and enjoyed an afternoon treat with a view, instead.

Milano

The plan for today was a special excursion to Milano, where we would take a city tour that included admission to view a very famous work of art.

At some point on these trips, something tends to go awry. When a Swiss train pulled into the station at Stresa at the appointed time this morning and our host ushered us aboard, I was puzzled. Our tickets were for Trenitalia, not SBB. [And indeed, we were in the wrong.] A testy exchange (in German) ensued between the ticket-taker and our host, but fortunately we were permitted to continue our journey.

After wandering in vain through the main station in Milan (in search of the tourist office and paper maps), I was increasingly worried that we would be late. We needed to be at a particular place at a particular time, and the clock was ticking. I pulled out my phone and suggested that we allow Google Maps to show us the way.

Several people wanted to see the Duomo first, but I suggested that it was likely to be part of our tour later (which turned out to be correct). I was keen to go directly to our destination, the Chiesa di Santa Maria delle Grazie.

The Castello Sforzesco, however, was on the way; we traversed the grounds and learned more, later, during our tour. The castle is situated at the center (more or less) of Milan, which is not surprising given how cities have historically grown.

I first visited Milan about 30 years ago, and we made a pilgrimage to see this painting. I remember being very surprised to find that it was simply painted on the wall of the friars' dining hall. It was under restoration at the time, with very little discernible through the scaffolding.

Now, after 21 years of chipping away at many layers of paint from prior restorations, The Last Supper can be seen again. The latest restoration took great care to expose what remains of Da Vinci's 15th-century original, filling in the gaps with watercolors. There is much to observe in the details of this well-known work—gestures, lighting, positioning—that I never before knew, or appreciated. You might wonder why Leonardo would not position the work above that doorway. Well, there was no doorway; it was unceremoniously cut through the wall (and the painting) during the 17th century.

We did breeze past the Duomo, but did not enter. Our guide explained how the exterior changes color over the course of a day, from gray to white to pink, as the light shifts.

We moved on to visit the Galleria Vittorio Emanuele II, where we admired the architecture without being tempted by the boutiques.

Our tour concluded across from Milan's famous opera house, La Scala, the interior of which is apparently worth seeing. The exterior? Not so much. One of the folks in our group made our guide laugh when she asked if we could see the front of the building ...