We rolled into Navigli early doors, bleary-eyed and espresso-hungry, hoping for romance on the water and maybe a croissant or two that didn’t come from a packet.
First impressions? Pont des Arts in Paris vibes — mostly because of the infamous padlock bridge.
You know, the kind of place couples “lock in their love,” while I’m just trying to lock in a quiet breakfast without someone yelling “Mum! He kicked me!”
Sunlight danced on the canal’s surface — very Pinterest meets accidental serenity — and for a brief moment, it was giving wanderlust. The smell of fresh coffee, pastries, and potential wafted through the air as we strolled past sleepy cafés, art-lined alleys, and what I genuinely thought were extinct: bookshops.
Yes, real ones. With actual paper pages!
For anyone still clinging to the tactile joy of flipping a page instead of a screen — this is your moment.
Sniff a book. Pretend you’re in a film. Bonus points if you dramatically sigh while doing it.
We wandered past street vendors hawking trinkets, tote bags, and questionable fridge magnets, the kind of bits and bobs you don’t need but absolutely must own now because they say “Milano” in glitter.
The bambinos bartered (badly), I haggled (worse), and the littlest one tried to trade his half-eaten biscotti for a ceramic donkey.
There’s graffiti-turned-street-art covering parts of the district — edgy, colourful, and apparently inspirational enough for my eldest bambino to announce his new career as a “travel photographer-slash-vlogger.”
One deep sigh and 200 shots of cobbled pavements later, he’s ready to open his own gallery called ‘Random Wall, Volume 1’.
It’s easy to picture Navigli coming alive at night – dusk ’til dawn (minus the vampires, thankfully, though partygoers may still try to bite).
Think Aperol Spritz in hand, music spilling out of open doors, that carefree energy of people who’ve definitely booked a babysitter.
If you’re a parent, here’s your cue: Get yourself a nanny and go party like it’s 1999. Or 1990. Or any year where your handbag wasn’t full of rice cakes and baby wipes.
Verdict? Aesthetically pleasing, Instagram-worthy, and easy to romanticise, but for us? Bit of a miss.
The ambience was there, but the magic didn’t quite land. Maybe we were too tired. Maybe we’re too jaded. Or maybe we were too busy stopping the bambinos from throwing bread into the canal “to feed the invisible ducks.”
Navigli, we wanted to love you — truly — but for now, it’s a 4/10 from this travelling circus. Still chasing that elusive Milanese charm
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