Milan

A while back, following my own advice from last year to do a bit more research before setting out, I'd downloaded loads of information about places I might like to visit in Milan and (spoiler) Naples. But although I booked this morning's climb up to the roof terraces of Milan cathedral, I hadn't got round to making sensible map-based itineraries. So I'm totally certain my feet needn't have zig-zagged the 18km/12miles they did today. As well as that, I took quite a few metro, tram and bus rides, having bought two 24-hour passes (the first was an internet scam - not the sort of thing I fall for very often).

When I booked, only the weather-gods knew that it would be 15C and drizzling this morning. However the authorities knew about the cathedral repairs, that some of the roof was blocked off and that all of it had views of and through scaffolding. The French word for disappointment - déception - was closer to how I felt. Extra 1 is a bit of baroque scaffolding.

Once down, I went into the cathedral where some strange contemporary music was going on, high soprano with rumbling bass, accompanied by excerpts from much older organ music. It took me quite a while to realise the organ was competing with two drills.

The rest of my day involved mostly trying to find the places on my list, and stumbling across interesting looking places and checking whether they were on my list. They were, mostly.

The other disappointments, to get them over with:
Finding that the Novecento Gallery has only one Paul Klee. My fault for not being more critical in my advance reading of blogs about visiting Milan.
A much lauded 'little takeaway shop founded in 1888 and specialising in panzerotti - go slightly before lunch time since at noon on the dot the queue starts growing, they even have bouncers to manage it!' I discovered that a panzarotto is a small calzone, deep fried. No. Ditto.

The good bits:
The walk from my airbnb to the cathedral took me past La Scala (I'd checked - nothing on while I was here, and I later found out they expect you to dress up so that would have been an expensive non-starter) and through the elegant Galleria Vittorio Emanuele. Not that I was in the market for Dior, Prada or that lot (ibid).

Pretty Piazza Mercanti with its 16th-century pit, where those guilty of bankruptcy would have their naked bottoms exposed as a penance. An interesting punishment somewhere between the stocks and imprisonment.

A walk through the Castello Sforzesco where I was temporarily overwhelmed that you could buy one ticket that allowed you to go into twelve museums - until I realised it's the same in London, except that the 'ticket' is free, and lasts all year.

The vertical wood (extra 2) - full sized trees on the balconies of two blocks of flats - is impressive to look at, but a bit weird and I do wonder what will happen as they grow even more. More sensible are the trees beneath, in what they bizarrely call the 'tree library': small patches of trees between paths, with species named on a map so you know what you're walking past.

Pinacoteca Ambrosiana, where I wanted to see what was on display of the Codex Atlanticus - Leonardo da Vinci's writing, musings and sketches on maths, engineering, astronomy, weaponry, life, the universe and everything. The museum has a very strict 'direction of visit' so first I was forced, with smiles at every corner, to walk past what they correctly call 'some of the greatest masterpieces of all time' and I couldn't help getting distracted by the largest Raphael cartoon anywhere (The School of Athens), beautifully displayed and explained; a whole set of Titians; a Caravaggio or two; some Botticellis, some Brueghels. It's a quite astounding collection - the visual aids for a very upmarket course in the history of art.

I also walked through the not-me Fashion Quarter, then the much-more-me Silence Quarter, where I was chuffed to see some engaging architecture and flamingos (extra 3) in a wealthy garden, though I wish I'd come earlier in the day and spent more time here.

I spent dusk forcing my protesting feet to wander round the recently trendified canal area, Navigli, very similar to those in all contemporary cities with water. Sunset at the tram stop was accompanied by deep rolls of thunder and by the time I got off my 100-year-old rattly tram, about six minutes walk from my airbnb, the rain was solid and the gutters were rivers. I got soaked, despite the waterproof I extracted from my backpack.