With the arrival of warm weather, the first flowers bloom, and the desire to wander the city grows. During the weekend, bustling Milan takes on the look of a postcard: Milanese residents suddenly relax in Sempione Park. They put aside work and, armed with towels and a football, prepare for an afternoon of leisure. Like good people, we decided to follow the same strategy.
Strolling between the shade and the scorching sun of Milan's green lung, we longed to ponder the dilemma that strikes everyone in spring: what is the right outfit?
Looking around, there were no half measures (just as there are no longer any seasons): scarf and balaclava or sandals and shorts. After numerous stops on benches in the shade and benches in the sun, we reached our long-awaited destination: the Arch of Peace. We pass by almost every day, alone or with friends, yet few know its history.
Back in 1806, a "fake" arch made of canvas, plaster, and wood was built to celebrate the arrival in the city of the newly married Viceroy of Italy, Eugène de Beauharnais. It was so successful that the Milanese council immediately decided to build a new one, this time in marble. The work was conceived as the "Arch of Victory," under Napoleon's supervision, to commemorate the Battle of Jena. Unfortunately, just as the work was about to be completed, Italy fell to the Austrians.
After a long pause, construction resumed in 1826 and the dedication changed: in 1838, in the presence of Emperor Ferdinand I, the new Arch of Peace was inaugurated, dedicated to the peace between the European nations sanctioned by the Congress of Vienna of 1815. The Habsburgs, in a prankish mood, decided to orient the horses of the peace chariot so that their bronze backsides were facing France.
Just over twenty years later, on 8 June 1859, four days after the victory of Magenta, Napoleon III and Vittorio Emanuele II entered Milan triumphantly through the Arch, which became a symbol of the city's independence:
" Entering with glorious arms / Napoleon III and Vittorio Emanuele II liberators / exultant Milan erased from these marbles / the servile imprints / and wrote there the independence of Italy / MDCCCLIX ".
The day could only end with an aperitif in one of the many bars surrounding the Arch.
At that hour, the atmosphere becomes even more magical and evocative. Sure, perhaps the second Spritz deserves some credit... but the view of the Arch and the Castle, silhouetted against the fiery red sunset, is quite something.