A guide to Milan Canals - I Navigli
Today a very fashionable neighbourhood, where dismissed industrial spaces are renovated and turned into light and airy lofts appealing to the young and trendy new generation of residents, this area of Milan was once home to a varied humanity that spaced from hardworking factory employees to underprivileged families, sex workers and pimps, poker and billiard players, hardcore gamblers and conmen, funny characters and newly arrived immigrants from the south living door to door with local families who had been in the area for generations. A Milan of smoky trattorias, flasks of blunt wine consumed young, card gaming tables where the rummy games of Scala Quaranta, Briscola and Scopa were treated as state affairs and people would congregate to socialize, listen to the latest hits played on the Jukebox or the radio and maybe even watch the football game on TV.
My mother spent her adolescent years here, in one of the typical multi-storey worker houses characterised by a common inner courtyard and an open gallery, a sort of extended balcony with a guard rail, on each floor leading to the single units. These houses, mainly built at the beginning of the 20th century, stand out for the characteristic architecture among all other buildings of the city. Their absence of balconies facing the street, their typical dark yellow or pink colour and the the galleries running the length of the buildings and facing the inner courtyards are known in Italian as case di ringhiera and are really characteristic of this town’s area - you can only find a high concentration of them here and in Porta Romana’s neighbourhood and nowhere else in town.
It was a poor neighbourhood back then, and in place of all the animated cafes and bars that make the area today one of the liveliest of the city, particularly at night, there were old trattorias and tiny family-run bars where men would meet after work for a bianchino (white house wine served by the glass) or a grappino (diminutive of grappa aquavit). Actually, I have never really understood why people felt the need to refer to it as a small grappa, and I suspect, it was to make themselves feel better, like they were taking only small doses of it when probably it wasn’t the case, having previously made sure they had added it to their coffees as well as making the well known caffé corretto.
The area has changed dramatically in time and keeps on changing. But the one thing that, doesn’t, is the very special atmosphere you breathe here. Bohemian, free and frank, raw, real and gritty. The canal network, the houses overlooking the slow paced current of the water, the colourful buildings, the iron bridges and the Roman stone pavement, torn in half to insert the tram tracks, make you feel like you have been dropped in the middle of a Fellini’s or Rossellini’s movie set and you are about to meet Anna Magnani or Sofia Lauren.
The street are lined with cafes, restaurants, antique shops, second hand bookstores, painters’ studios and art galleries but everything feels so different from the wealthy and imposing buildings of the city centre and its opulent shimmering boutiques and stores.
These canals were originally built to connect Milan to the countryside and facilitate the transport of goods. Some were designed by Leonardo da Vinci, and some were used to bring the marble stones and other building materials used to erect Milan’s Cathedral, il Duomo. Most of them have been closed and covered and projects planning to reopen them pop up now and then, but eventually are always put aside to give priority to the construction of a new subway line or other major infrastructure work to improve the circulation in a city that gets busier by the day.
Several of the typical barges, i barconi, that were used to transport freight into the city are now converted into restaurants yet some are still operative and you can hop on one for a tour of the canals. The level of the water varies through the year and that’s why the boats used were wide and flat so they could navigate even in very shallow water. In some periods the water is drained completely and you can walk inside the canal and go treasure hunting, one of my favourite occupations during my childhood when I used to live along the Naviglio Grande some 40 km outside the city.
In Ripa di Porta Ticinese, the two remaining canals, the Naviglio Grande and the Naviglio Pavese join in what is know as Darsena. The area has recently been renovated and it’s a lovely place to take a stroll or just sit by the water, sip a coffee with a view and check out the antique shops and the artist studios of the area.
When I was a child, my grandparents used to sing for me a traditional nursery rhyme that tells the story of a small boat, struggling to set sail and to find a harbour. The tune comes to my mind every single time I say the word Naviglio. It’s the song of a Naviglio, that in an antiquated Italian refers not only to the canal but also to a boat. Below are the words and if you fancy hearing the song this is the nearest version to my childhood memories I have found, starting from 01:10 min on this Youtube video, clip from an homonymous 1940 movie starring Stan Laurel and Oliver Hardy (Original title, Saps at Sea), that were still loved back then and watched religiously by all children, obviously in their Italian translation where they were known as Stanlio ed Olio.
“Il piccolo Naviglio
C’era una volta un piccolo naviglio
che non poteva navigar,
era lontano dalla riva un miglio,
vedeva il porto e non poteva più approdar.
Eppure a posto avea tutti gli attrezzi
compreso chiglia ed il timon,
ma dagli e pesta non trovavan mezzi
per far marciare quel balordo carcasson.
E dopo una, due, tre,
quattro, cinque, sei, sette settimane,
nessun riusci a capir perchè
senza più esitar si rimise a navigar.
Le bianche vele, fiocchi e pappafichi
sciolsero tosto i marinar
e il capitano dai mustacchi antichi
salì sul ponte, la sua nave a comandar.
Quando il nostromo racconta
questa leggenda del mar,
tutti in silenzio stanno ad ascoltar
senza nemmeno fiatar.
Tremando, brilla lucente
l’occhio cercando laggiù,
dove nel nulla si perde il mar blu,
un sogno che non torna più.
C’era una volta un piccolo naviglio
che non poteva navigar
era lontano dalla riva un miglio,
vedeva il porto e non poteva più approdar.
Eppure a posto avea tutti gli attrezzi
compreso chiglia ed il timon,
ma dagli e pesta non trovavan mezzi
per far marciare quel balordo carcasson.
E dopo una, due, tre,
quattro, cinque, sei, sette settimane,
nessun riusci a capir perchè
senza più esitar si rimise a navigar.
Le bianche vele, fiocchi e pappafichi
sciolsero tosto i marinar
e il capitano dai mustacchi antichi
salì sul ponte, la sua nave a comandar.
”
If you happen to be in town the last Sunday of the month, don’t miss the Antique Market, il Mercatone dell’Antiquariato, on Alzaia Naviglio Grande, that has been taking place every month ever since I can remember. Two kilometres, more than 380 stalls with two streets, via Corsico and via Paoli, entirely dedicated to the top quality vintage, this institutional event brings you all the best antique selection of the North of Italy, being the exhibitors carefully selected and vetted by the market committee.
While you are in the area, take a moment to visit the places where poet Alda Merini, known as the Poetessa dei Navigli , lived and got her inspiration from. She lived in Ripa di Porta Ticinese 47 and used to write at the coffee-bookshop Chimera where she wrote some of her masterpieces in the late ‘80s and early ‘90s. She lived in the area until she died in 2009.
In via Magolfa 32 you can visit the Casa delle Arti - Spazio Alda Merini, where the belonging of the poet are shown in a reproduction of the small space she used live in by herself and where her coat and lipsticks are still lying around, in that chaotic mess she needed to be able to create her poetry.
Her presence is still felt in the area, her pictures hanging in several shops where her friends used to work. She loved the city very deeply and the city is integral part her poetic work to the point that words often seem like following the quiet but determined pace of the Naviglio’s current, the same she could observe from her apartment windows.
I read her poetry avidly during my adolescence. Her words felt like fire burning from within. Her work a constant inspiration. So, indulge me. I’d like to close this post with one of her descriptions of Milan:
“Milano benedetta
donna altera e sanguigna
con due mammelle amorose
pronte a sfamare
i popoli del mondo”
