The time has come after months of training. To make life easier, we thought we would spend the weekend in Milan, staying in an apartment right near the Duomo, where the marathon finishes. Milano was as busy and chaotic as expected. It’s a great city, but our experience vindicated how much of a better fit Merate is for families with two young kids.
Friday 10 April
I worked during the day until Ilaria woke from her nap. Once she was up and ready, we were off.
Grazia picked us up and took us to the train station saving us a 25 minute walk with all our luggage. From there, the route was straightforward enough on paper: train to Milano Porta Garibaldi, change for one stop to Repubblica, then switch to the Metro and ride out to Misori.
Simple, in theory.
Porta Garibaldi, unfortunately, had other ideas. The lift was out of service, which meant getting the pram and suitcases down a pretty decent flight of stairs. A feat that would have been far more painful were it not for a kind station worker who stepped in to help with the pram without being asked. One of those small moments of humanity that you genuinely appreciate.
Then came the Metro ticket machines. Credit cards weren’t working, and the machines were only accepting cash. Of course. We had to raid Issy’s coin purse and managed to scrape together enough coins between us.
By the time we finally arrived at the apartment and stood outside the front door, it was about 6pm. After some troubles working the keypad entrance on the door, we finally made it inside.
With barely a moment to breathe, I had to turn straight back around and head to Superstudio Maxi to pick up my race bib for the Maratona before 8pm. It was two Metro lines and about 30 minutes in total to get there. But I found the Milan Metro to be pretty goode. Trains arrive within a few minutes of each other, and it’s easy to navigate.
While I was on my way there, Rose called. The apartment had no couch. It had been advertised with one, but turns out there was none to found. For a family trying to relax and rest before a race weekend, this was not ideal.
The bib pickup itself was painless. In and out in minutes. Though they do funnel you through the entire race expo to get to the pack collection, which I found mildly annoying.
By the time I made it back, it was nearly 8:30pm, and no one had eaten. We were just about to leave for dinner when I discovered the toilet was broken. Another one for the list.
We needed food and we needed it quickly, so we headed out on foot. Rose had spotted a pasta restaurant nearby, but it had an hour’s wait. Somehow, Rose managed to get us a table at the restaurant next door, Bio Pizza, despite it being packed to the rafters and with a queue snaking out the door. She has a gift.
And what a find it was. The service was quick and the food was delicious. It really hit the spot.
It was pretty hot when we got back to the apartment. But of course, the air con wasn’t working properly either.
Saturday 11 April
We started the morning with a round of video calls back home. Nonna Frankie and Pa Tom, then Lucas, and then Jordan, calling from Nonna Anna’s house. Which was lovely to see, but also a little bittersweet.
Jordan had been meant to be here with us this weekend. He was supposed to run the marathon alongside me on Sunday, the whole thing planned for months. But his flights were cancelled following the escalation of the Iran war, and just like that, that chapter of the plan was closed. It was strange to see him on screen knowing he should have been standing in the same city.
After the calls, I went to have a shower and discovered we had no hot water in the apartment at all.
Rose headed out to grab some groceries and we had breakfast at home before heading out into the city. Our first stop was the Duomo di Milano and the Galleria Vittorio Emanuele II – the iconic covered arcade that connects the Piazza del Duomo to Piazza della Scala.
Issy had one very important mission here: spin on the bull. If you haven’t heard of this Milanese tradition, there’s a mosaic of a bull on the floor of the Galleria, and legend has it that spinning on it three times brings good luck.
From the Duomo, we walked to the Museo del Novecento, partly to get out of the heat and the crowds, partly because it’s just a genuinely lovely thing to do. From the upper levels, you get one of the best views of the Duomo’s facade without the chaos of the piazza below.
By midday the kids were hungry, so we made our way to the pasta restaurant we’d tried to get into the night before. This time, we were in luck. There was initially a 20-minute wait, but Rose had barely walked inside to ask about takeaway when a table opened up. I’m becoming convinced she has some kind of restaurant superpower.
The place was called Via Pasteria, and it was immediately obvious why people queue for it. Reasonably priced, no coperta charge, unlimited still and sparkling water on tap, and the food was delicious. Exactly the kind of unpretentious, honest Italian cooking you hope for and don’t always find in a city-centre spot.
We headed back to the apartment for Ilaria’s nap. The maintenance team arrived to look at the list of issues we’d reported. The hot water turned out to have a simple explanation: the boiler’s power switch had been left off. Once that was sorted, hot showers were restored. The toilet and the air conditioning, however, would have to wait until Monday. Given that we were leaving Monday morning, was entirely useless for us. But at least the hot water was back.
There was one more thing this weekend had to offer. The reason we’d come to Milano in the first place. The Maratona di Milano 2026 was waiting for me on Sunday morning.
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