Refried Neurons

Buongiorno! Or as my fingers insist on typing it – Bonjorno. Milan greeted me with another glorious day and, miracle of miracles, I actually woke up refreshed. The reason? The snoring girl from my dorm finally moved out. Honestly, that was the best gift Italy has given me so far.

I jumped in the shower… well, kind of. I forgot my flip-flops, so it became a sock-shower situation. Picture me balancing on one leg outside the cubicle, keeping my socks dry, washing my feet last, and basically performing a circus act nobody asked for. But hey – no athlete’s foot, no shame, and I got out alive.

Lighting, Lighting Everywhere

Back to the expo. At this point, everyone had surrendered to the fact we weren’t going to see it all. Not in one lifetime. So today became Lighting Day.

Or Lighting Night, really, because the hall was so dimly lit it felt like stepping into the world’s most depressing nightclub. I’ve now seen more lamps in one morning than in all my previous thirty-something years combined. From dreary office strip lights to flamboyant, borderline kinky chandeliers – if it lights up, it was there.

And it wasn’t just lights. Switches! Sockets! Who knew there could be this much variety in the world of on/off buttons? Somewhere, an electrician is living his best life. I half expected to find an elephant bone switch tucked under the table for a VIP client from the Gulf.

The big trend? Battery-powered table lamps. Apparently Abigail Ahern’s mantra of “minimum eight lamps per bedroom” finally broke the industry. Nobody has that many sockets, so voilà: cordless lamps for all. Trouble is, they all looked the same – as if one company did the homework and the rest copied it at break time.

Still, there were some gems. A woven chandelier made by African women that looked like sunlight caught in a fishing net. A set of wall lights with tiny figurines hiding inside them. And then… salvation: the Polish lighting stand. The lights? Meh. The beer? Excellent. We stayed long enough to basically become part of the furniture, doing them a favour by drawing a crowd.

From Space Age to Stone Age

Beer in hand, we stumbled straight into Karim Rashid’s “cosmic” collection. Imagine furniture designed for Elon Musk’s bachelor pad on Mars – that’s what it looked like. I’ll shop there when I move to a space station. Until then, selfies will do.

A few steps later we’d landed in the Stone Age. Monumental tables carved from rock, straight out of The Flintstones. Impressive, yes, but unless my car suddenly switches to dinosaur-foot propulsion, I’m not dragging a granite console home.

We wandered past jellyfish-shaped speakers, enormous sheep statues, and student designs that forgot one tiny detail: furniture should actually be usable. Note to aspiring designers – people buy sofas to sit on, not just to admire like modern art.

Milan, You Charmer

Eventually we escaped the fluorescent jungle, mostly because hunger had taken over. Everyone had told me Milan was industrial, ugly, not worth the trip. Absolute nonsense. One moment we were at a castle, the next we were winding through cobbled streets, green courtyards, and facades dripping with details. Every lamppost, manhole, and balcony felt like a little love letter to craftsmanship.

The food hunt took a while – one restaurant was too posh, another closed, a third just didn’t feel right – until finally we landed in a small trattoria that ticked every box. Polenta, vino bianco, and that pure Italian magic where even water tastes like wine (or maybe that was just me downing my first glass too quickly). Whatever it was, it was delicious, or I was simply starving. Either way, sitting outside with a plate of food, a glass of wine, and the hum of Milanese life felt perfect.

Of course, in Italy coffee follows wine like night follows day. So yes, six in the evening, espresso in hand, chatting with a sleek coffee machine company who’d designed a model that hides under the counter like a submarine. Very chic. We filmed reels, sipped more, then moved on to yet another spot – this one luring people in with free wine and snacks. Italy really understands marketing.

Somewhere in between I had my “design geek” moment spotting Tabu veneers. I used to work with them, and seeing walnut burl in their collection made me unreasonably happy – finally, the veneer of my dreams for my kitchen!

The Long March Home

The rest of the evening was a blur of apartment showrooms, Agape bathrooms (where I pretended I could afford everything), Bauhaus chairs making their hundredth comeback, and yes, doors. Cool doors, but… doors.

What struck me most was the design attitude. Italians go all in – either ultra-simple elegance or full palatial kitsch with enough gilding to blind a pope. The English hover somewhere in between, nervously sipping tea.

By then, we were shattered. The girls headed home and I shuffled back to my hostel – only to discover a full-blown party in the bar. Free pasta! Wine! Music! I hadn’t eaten much all day, so naturally I inhaled a plate of pasta, grabbed a drink, and wandered up to the rooftop to soak in the city views.

Pajamas on, noise-cancelling headphones in, I was ready for bed. Unless, of course, K texted with her usual “let’s go back out” scheme. Which, she did, bit by then I already passed out 😄

Tomorrow? Lake Como, baby.