{"id":32674,"date":"2015-04-03T08:00:57","date_gmt":"2015-04-03T14:00:57","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/dailyimprovisations.com\/?p=32674"},"modified":"2015-04-03T11:55:32","modified_gmt":"2015-04-03T17:55:32","slug":"how-to-find-a-shop-with-chocolate-near-milan-in-monza-italy","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/dailyimprovisations.com\/how-to-find-a-shop-with-chocolate-near-milan-in-monza-italy\/","title":{"rendered":"How to Find a Shop with Chocolate Near Milan in Monza, Italy"},"content":{"rendered":"

The day trip to Milan<\/strong> had been\u2026 odd. After getting yelled at in the neighborhood fabric store<\/a><\/span>, my girl friend and I had visited the exotically grand Duomo for a while. It is in the center of Milan and even its exalted structure was draped with huge, big-city advertising banners where construction on the cathedral was intense. One got the impression that it was still being \u201cfinished\u201d hundreds of years into the project, or its remodel was dwarfing any homeowner\u2019s worst nightmare. Either way, from our perspective at ground level, even its phenomenal size was overshadowed by the multi-story department buildings encircling it.<\/p>\n

We had wandered<\/strong> a few side streets near central Milan and I had been disappointed. I was expecting something more overtly high-fashion. In reality, the city seemed like any other drab, socialist European city that I\u2019d seen the likes of in countless movies. The constant November rain probably did not help. Maybe that was also the reason no one walking on the streets was smiling or friendly. Plus, there were several middle-aged women scattered begging, sitting on the inner edge of the wide, outdoor mall sidewalks, looking very dejected. And nearly everyone was wearing black.<\/p>\n

Our internet research<\/strong> had shown a few shops listed as \u201cchocolate shops\u201d in Milan, but we couldn\u2019t find any near where we were. After having such difficulty finding the fabric store, and fighting a recurring sense that someone was periodically blind-folding us and spinning us around, venturing further that day seemed daunting. Instead, we opted for lunch at a cafe with a TripAdvisor sticker on the window, then headed as best we could back toward the train station, trying to find our niche in the crowd of apparent locals surging along the covered walkway under the grey buildings.<\/p>\n

When a gelato shop<\/strong> appeared in our view, we decided to take advantage. We were the only customers in an immaculate, picture perfect establishment run by a gentleman of Indian descent. He was very happy to see us, and told us a little about his coming to live in Italy three years prior. The gelato was superb, and he watched our faces with satisfaction as we took our first licks.<\/p>\n

\"We<\/a>
We only saw a couple of gelato shops during our excursion in Milan, but in Monza, there was one on every corner. Many of them had other types of chocolate as well.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

The commute back<\/strong> to our hotel was using the same public transportation we had used to get there. It was unremarkably diverting for first-timers, but would obviously get tedious with repetition. The train, in particular, seemed quite slow; but at least it wasn\u2019t a bus. I really don\u2019t like public buses in any city I have tried them in. (click on any photo to enlarge)<\/em><\/p>\n

There was not<\/strong> much to see on the train. I don\u2019t know if it was our choice of seating or if we really were in tunnels most of the time. However, we passed time talking about spending the next day looking for a chocolate shop in Monza. A few stops into our ride, a woman took the seat directly facing us. She was about 35 years old, dressed in comfortable working mom looking attire. She kept her brown eyes politely semi-averted, but her countenance was open and friendly. After listening to us for a while, she spoke to us in excellent English, which we had not found to be the norm.<\/p>\n

It didn\u2019t take us<\/strong> long to ask her if she knew of any chocolate shops in Monza, where she had said she lived. At first, her puckered brow and doubtful eyes gave us little hope. Then, she brightened and told us of one that she liked, doing her best to give us directions like someone does who is familiar with an area and no need of street names does.<\/p>\n

The following<\/strong> morning, we asked the hotel concierge two things:<\/p>\n