The Duomo, in central Milan, was absolutely stunning. I was all happy and excited that I had a cardigan in my bag as many women were being turned away for not having their arms covered but alas, my skirt was too short to get in. Only my father was deemed holy enough to enter, and his report was that “it was full of dead people.” I was half tempted to go back in a Burqa and see how that went down with the catholics, but I went for a modest longer dress with covered sleeves which worked on round two. Sadly mum still missed out, the tart.
The building itself was enough of a site though, even though it seemed paradoxically rude that I was too much of a hussy to enter but one of the spires was advertising the latest Mac.
Inside, there was loads of beautiful art, preserved bodies of important people, and for an extra few euros you can see the treasury and cript downstairs. There wasn’t much in there so I wouldn’t necessarily recommend shelling out anything extra for it if you’re not too bothered about viewing the spoils of Catholicism.