It didn’t quite go as planned on Sunday after all. We DID go for a walk up Corso Buenos Aires on Sunday afternoon as many of the shops were open. We DID take Rufus, who got lots of admiring looks and lots of ‘che bello’s’ and who was perfectly behaved, as usual. V got some presents for the birthday of a girl at work because he always seems to be the one responsible for taking the collection money and finding the presents.
Of course here, unlike in the UK, you are allowed to take your dog everywhere, more or less. In fact, Rufus and I would wait inside the shop by the door and I was told on more than one occasion that it was OK to take him in. Considering that the UK believe themselves to be a nation of animal lovers, over and above all (other) Europeans, they could really take a leaf out of the Italians’ book, where they have a much, much more relaxed attitude to it all, God love ‘em.
After the shopping we went to a bar we know for a quick beer (or, in V’s case a couple of Fantas) and then, as a friend had called, we went up to Parco Sempione (the one with the castle), met them and went for the most delicious ice cream at a nearby gelateria. It’s called Chocolat (like the film) and specialises in chocolate ice cream of various sorts – my favourite. It was really divine.
And, of course, Inter Milan had won the championship earlier that afternoon, so there were many cars and flags and tooting of horns and blowing of klaxons and so much noise that, sometimes, you could not hold a conversation with the person next to you.
Rufus, who had, that day, his first trip on the underground (metro) wasn’t really bothered by the noise, except when they started with the fireworks. Luckily there were only a couple, so we were able to keep him calm.
Then we walked around the park, chatting. Rufus still getting much admiration. I do find it funny. First they notice the dog, often smile and then they look at the person who has the dog – looking you up and down to see if you are as pretty as the dog – or something like that. It makes me smile. He’s a bit of a ‘babe magnet’. Shame, really, that it’s no good for me!
We then went for a very nice pizza near to the park. Once again, there was no problem with Rufus coming in. He was pretty tired so went to sleep under the table. Before now, when in (or outside) a restaurant, they have come with a bowl of water for him. He doesn’t expect to get fed from the table so is not sat there expectantly. I do remember once, in a very smart restaurant in Milan, some, obviously very rich, old biddy had her dogs sat on the chair next to her and fed them from her own plate – which, to be honest is going a little to far for me.
Anyway, it was all very good. We walked back to the underground. The temperature had hardly dipped from the mid 20s. One of the many reasons that I love living here. In general, one just could not rely on that in the UK.
On Wednesday there is a holiday here, in Italy. Of course, as it’s not a holiday in the UK, V will be working. I think, if it is a nice day, I will take a couple of beers on the balcony and try to finish both the books I am reading, then, later, take Rufus down to the park for an afternoon of rest and relaxation and, maybe, a few more beers?