Living somewhere is completely different to visiting somewhere.  And, overall, I cant really complain about the life I have here.  Some aspects are good and some not so good.  But, overall, its OK.

However, there are times when things makes make me remember why I am here.

A friend (ex colleague) and his fiancée are coming over for Valentines Day.  A long weekend – in the middle of the week.  And, to be helpful, I’ve written an email to help him make the best of their short time here.  Loads of little things that I wish I had known when we used to come over so often.

And I’m also trying to give my ‘hot tips’ for the places to visit and what they should do.  And, as I’m doing this I remember what a bloody great city this is.  Exciting, a rich culture, beautiful buildings, fantastic food and a wonderful ‘way of life’.

I remember, when we had money, and we would come and go shopping.  And I mean shopping.  Traipsing up and down Via Montenapoleone and finishing about half five or six, going to Bar Top and having an apero.  V with all the bags, sipping cocktails like he was the richest person in the world.

And finding some really good restaurants, like Amici del Liberty.  This used to be the most fantastic restaurant in Milan.  Seating 32 people it’s tiny.’  Nicola, who owns the restaurant, is from Naples and serves you and, if you are lucky, he’ll perform a magic trick or two at your table (but prepared to spend the whole evening there).’  We found this completely by accident one time we were here and it was THE place to go, especially if you want a romantic dinner.  He specialises in seafood and Neapolitan cooking.  He’s a bit of a ladies man, but in a very perfect way.  It’s a little out of the way, but in a street that is changing (many more bars and other restaurants nearby now).

And, as I was writing the email, I remembered that I still get a chill down my spine as I approach the Duomo from San Babila.

And it’s good to remember why you are somewhere, particularly as this week, in a very strange moment, I became so homesick for Woonton and North-West Herefordshire.  It’s the first time that has happened and, for a couple of hours, I really wanted to be back there.  Still, one time in nearly three years is not so bad.  But, if I had the money, I would want to have a place there just as a getaway from the world.  Who knows?  Perhaps someday in the future!