Tag Archives: Milan

Chainsaws in Milan.

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As I have probably mentioned before, I am a country lad at heart. OK, so less of the lad these days, unfortunately. Most of my life has been lived in the countryside and I truly adore the country living – although it is completely different from living in a city and you have to have a different mindset, for certain.

Quite often, when living in North-West Herefordshire, you would hear, in the distance, the sound of the chainsaw as they were cutting down some trees. That’s if the grackles weren’t making too much noise, of course. It was, particularly, a spring and autumn sound. It is a reassuring sound (to me).

This morning, I heard it again. In the country it lasts for several minutes. This morning it lasted for a few seconds. And then repeated a few seconds later. Of course, I don’t live in the countryside any more, so it was unlikely at before 7 a.m. I would be hearing this sound in the middle of Milan!

And, of course, it wasn’t a chainsaw at all.

Bless him, I thought, but it is really loud – perhaps it’s because he’s so old. After all, this gets worse as you get older – loosening of muscles (you might even say ‘saggy’, especially round the waist), a general ‘relaxing’ of everything. And then I thought that it was good that I had shut them in the kitchen whilst I carried out my morning ablutions and got dressed. If he had been in the bedroom, he would have woken F!

I moved from the lounge (where I was dressing) to the bathroom to do my tie and became aware that the sound was coming from the wrong place.

It wasn’t Rufus after all but F himself! It made me laugh.

Italian or British? Who is which?

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“Have you two had a fight?”

I explained that no, as yet, we’ve never really had a fight (apart from last summer, at the start of our holidays). I explain that he’s just stressed.

We had been there a little while, waiting for him. He had had to wait for his washing machine to finish. It leaks from a hose somewhere and so he has to stay to mop up from time to time. So, it was almost 9.30 before he arrived. And, when he arrived, he was on the phone and seemed angry and didn’t say anything to me and so they thought that we had fought.

But I know him well enough now and know he is not pissed with me. When he comes back to the table he tells me who was on the phone. They were talking about the funeral in the UK that will be held next Friday. He tells me he is not going to go. I have mixed feelings about this and none of them selfish. On the one hand, he should go as I think he may regret it later. This was, at least for 11 years, his father-in-law. On the other hand, he is so busy right now, that even a two-day trip to the UK will throw everything into disarray for him.

He tells me it is because S would feel like he would have to look after F and S will be busy himself, given that it’s his father’s funeral and so he will be unable to look after F as he would like. But it is more complicated than that.

Next week he has several places to go and one is Venice, so a night away. The following week is a full week in Germany. So a trip in the middle of this to the UK would just add to his feeling of stress.

In the lift, on the way back to my flat, he informs me that he is working both on Saturday and Sunday.

I say how sorry I am. Again, there is nothing selfish in this. I am sorry for him. He really needs the rest.

During the meal, last night, for some reason I now forget, it came up about the end of him and S. Apparently it was not a good ending. And it went on for some time. It’s part of the reason that he doesn’t want to ‘go there’ again. And I do ‘get it’ even if I don’t agree with it. And I don’t. But it explains some more things. It explains the way he is.

At one point he tells the colleague we are with that he keeps home and work seperate. He doesn’t talk to me about his work – good or bad. He doesn’t take his personal life into work, he says. Although, of course, he does, he just doesn’t realise it.

But I thought about him and how stressed and uptight he gets about things.

I thought, “but this isn’t what I expected from an Italian.

An Italian should be more relaxed and easy-going. An Italian shouldn’t get this uptight”.

And I wondered if, in fact, this uptightedness was more of a universal thing and not just confined to the British. Or if, with me being more laid back than he is, we hadn’t, somehow, got trapped in the wrong country when we were born. Is he Italian or British? I mean to say, is he more British than Italian? Am I more Italian than British?

As one could say he was a little more anally retentive than your average Italian (unless they are all like this and I just didn’t realise). But, perhaps, the British shouldn’t be portrayed as they are?

He says that “the problem with English people is that they don’t tell you the truth”. I am included in this. It’s not that we lie, it’s just that we don’t say it like it is and nor do we give our true feelings.

I think we call them white lies. These aren’t true lies, of course. These are things said so that you don’t hurt people’s feelings. Like – “you look lovely in that dress”, etc.

Perhaps they don’t have them in Italy? White lies, that is.

Do they?

It just is.

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It happens sometimes and it’s difficult to explain, really.

Last night, following a telephone call on Monday, I went to see the old man with the book. The book that has taken, apparently, nearly 40 years to write.

I did enjoy the time editing it but I don’t like having to visit him to do editing. I’m not sure why. It might be because I think that, if I live that long, that’s how I will be – living alone, in a faceless, tiny flat, in a huge block, rarely going out (because there’s nowhere close to go to), reclusive but not through desire, etc.

I looked at him last night and thought of Rufus. I wonder if he sits and stares at the walls like Rufus does?

Someone asked me about him the other day. I said I hadn’t heard from him for ages. “I guess the book is finally printed and finished”, I said, “Or, he’s dead!”

I had even moved his contact details out of the briefcase and put them ‘somewhere’. He phoned as I was driving. I said I would call back within the hour. After I had disconnected I realised that I might not have his number. Stupid me, I thought, for not adding his details into my phone.

Luckily, I know myself well enough. It was not filed anywhere, just sitting on top of the filing cabinet, under the laptop.

I left work and drove there. I had had such a headache during the day and it was still making my head feel like someone was kicking it soundly and, so, I was not looking forward to spending an hour or more with him, on an uncomfortable chair, in the lighting that he has (which is not good), hunched over a laptop and trying to interpret what he wants. Still, I thought, it’s extra and unexpected money and every little helps.

Plus I had my ‘late night’ English lesson at 9 p.m. following that. No, this was not going to be a great evening and if the bloody headache wasn’t going to go it would make it one of the worst evenings.

As I was driving, M, my late-night student texted to say his daughter was ill and he wasn’t coming. To be honest, I was grateful.

I got to the place where the bookman lived. For me, it has to be one of the most depressing areas of Milan although I am sure that there are far worse. No, I know that, really, it is not that bad. It’s just the thought of ever having to live somewhere like that. I couldn’t do it. I would rather go back to the UK.

He had a new ‘print’ of the book. To be honest, it was much better than the last one. This time the pages weren’t falling out. He seemed pleased to see me. I think he is. After all, I don’t charge him a fortune and he knows that he can trust me now – well, almost.

We start through the changes he wants. He wants to change a table. I do my best. It’s not as he wants, exactly but he knows that these tables are a real pain. He wants to check everything I do on the screen. Except he can’t read it so well, so it takes longer. I really want out of there but I am unable to leave. I cannot do less than my best for him. I am annoyed with myself for trying to make everything right. Why can’t I be like other people? People who really don’t care. Grrrr.

He asks me more often about whether he has used English correctly. Yes, he trusts me much more now. He uses “reception”. He is concerned that the reader will think he means a reception of a hotel or something similar. I explain that it’s fine. After all, the readers of his book will be highly educated people and will understand the correct meaning. Of course, what I would have liked to say was that the only (few) people who will ever read this book are, to be honest, geeky freaks. I didn’t say that. You ain’t going to be seeing this book in the airport, that’s for certain.

Weirdly, I kind of hope that he will tell me when it has been published. Even more weirdly, if he were to ‘give’ me I copy, I would be really pleased. I think of this and decide that I am quite strange myself. For certain, even if I had this book, I would never, never read it.

We finish, just short of two hours. I wish him good luck and hope that I don’t see him again – but in a nice way – in that the book is finally finished now. I don’t really think it is. I have a better understanding of him now. There will be some other ‘small things’ that need to be done. Still, I suppose if you have been writing this book for 40 years, you might as well make it perfect.

And then, on the drive home, it happened. This thing that happens rarely and at strange times and, seemingly, for no reason at all.

I come to a traffic lights and have to stop. I look the other side of the canal (which runs by the side of the road). There is a shop or, maybe a restaurant or a bar. It doesn’t really matter which. I suddenly become aware of the talk on the radio. I look at the sign on the shop.

“I live in a foreign country”, I think.

It’s the feeling that comes with that thought. The feeling of wonder at being here, of pride at having ‘made it’, of fear of knowing that I will never be ‘of this country’. It’s almost like a shock.

“How strange”, I think, “that, after all this time, this feeling can still come to me and at such unexpected times?”

It was the sign that did it. It wasn’t a special sign just a normal sign with an Italian name or word. I see these every day. Many of them. Why now? Why at this particular time? I don’t think there’s an answer to that. It just happens. It just is.

Disastro!

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OK, so maybe that’s a slight exaggeration.

Last night I saw that my phone was very low on charge. However, this was after we had been to Polpetta (F, An and I) and so I could not stay up long for it to charge. I charged it a bit and it ‘said’ there were two bars of charge. It’s enough.

Except, obviously, it lied. It was not on two bars. During the night it ran out of battery and switched itself off.

This morning, after a rather good night’s sleep, I opened my eyes to see the time was eight minutes past seven.

“Shit!”, I jumped out of bed. The dogs had a short walk. I still had a coffee (as without that I cannot survive), a shower but no shave and rushed out almost an hour late starting to work.

The traffic was terrible.

That’s because there had been a bad accident. Today! The day I am late! I suddenly start driving like an Italian, crossing a dual carriageway exactly as they do! Sometimes I scare myself. I mutter to myself (really I did this), “When in Italy …….”.

Then there were stupid drivers. Then there was a truck blocking the road. It took me an hour to get to work and so I arrived at 9. Grrrr.

Also, I have to admit to you, dear reader that I have, again, fallen off the wagon just a little bit. The night before last I ate two Mars bars. Last night I had two beers.

On the bright side, I have not had a bread roll since I went on the non-diet :-)

Other bright sides: I had almost an hour and a half’s extra sleep; it is Friday; the weather is warmer (or, rather not so cold); tonight I go out with A to Polpetta (he may not talk to me because of the last time) and then we join F and An to go to the Taverna della Lamparo; on Sunday, we shall go for breakfast with An and then, later, for lunch at the Alle Colline Senesi with her. (All links are on the side)

And, Saturday night is the final of the Festival of San Remo, which is televised and which we MUST watch. Well, F MUST watch it and so, we will.

And you? What fun things will you be doing over the weekend?

Useful Tips for Italy/Milan part 1: When to use cash or credit/debit cards

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I’m going to start a new tag theme.  Useful tips for those of you visiting Italy/coming to live in Italy.

For this first one, I give you the places where it is OK to use cash and those places where you are better using a credit/debit card.

Cash:  Garages (especially if you are using an Italian credit/debit card); Restaurants (especially if you get a discount); bars.

Credit/Debit cards: ALL supermarkets; most shops;

So, having given this information there must be a reason why.  And there is.  First though, I give you my experience from last night.

I needed to do some shopping.  Spese, here.  Things for the house.  I needed milk, washing powder, coke and some other bits and pieces.  I use Carrefour, just round the corner from my flat.  It’s only a small supermarket but it has most things.  Occasionally, for some other things, I must use a different supermarket.

I come, of course, from the UK.  We may all be European but each country does have a slightly (or completely) different mindset.  And there are many differences – most so subtle that you really don’t notice for a while.

I had to find a basket.  They are always ‘short’ of them.  People, queue up to wait for someone to empty their basket at the till so that they can have one.  Last night, it was busy.  I went in search of a basket.  I started round the supermarket.  Being an inner-city supermarket the aisles are narrow. And there are people who have their basket on one side of the aisle whilst they are on the other contemplating something …… for ages ….. effectively blocking the aisle. Grrrr.

I get my stuff. I start to queue. The queues are long – there are only three tills out of 6 open but, since this is a small store, they don’t have enough people to cover all six. I am patient.

I reach the conveyor belt. I have been waiting for about 20 minutes. It has been raining all day. It is still raining. The woman before me takes her umbrella from the bottom of the basket and places it on the conveyor belt. The umbrella is soaking wet. She picks up the umbrella. The conveyor belt is now soaking wet. I wait in my patient way, seething with anger at the thoughtlessness of Italians. She realises, as I am not putting my shopping on the conveyor belt, that there must be a reason and seems to suddenly realise that her actions and stupidity are the reason. She asks the cashier for some paper to dry the belt. She dries it. In the meantime, the woman two people in front of me is paying for her shopping. There seems to be a problem with her card. She asks if it is OK to leave her bagged shopping there for a moment. the cashier says ‘yes’.

I unload my shopping.

The person in front of me says she’s going to pay cash. The cashier starts putting her stuff through. The cashier then says to the queue that she can only accept cash. I explain that I am paying by card. I ask if I can’t pay for the shopping over at the control desk. The cashier explains that it won’t be possible because it’s not her till that’s the problem – it’s the bank card system that’s down.

I lose it at this point. I say, in my best English – ‘Oh great!’ and walk out, leaving my shopping on the conveyor belt.

In my wallet I have more than enough cash to pay the bill but I no longer use cash at the supermarkets. I refuse to use cash. I will use credit cards or debit cards but NEVER cash.

So why?

Supermarket scams:

1) Sometimes you will pay for the plastic carrier bags. Sometimes you will pay a couple of cents, sometimes 10 cents, sometimes (depending on the operator), nothing at all. This is in the same supermarket, for the same bag but with different operators. It is one of the reasons I rarely go to Unes now.

2) As I have mentioned in posts before, if you offer cash, they will invariably ask you for the small change part. If you don’t give it to them you are likely to find that the change they give you does NOT include the odd 1, 2 or 5 cents that you should have. Either they don’t have those small coins or they can’t be bothered to count them out, I’m never really sure which. And yes, these are major supermarket chains I’m talking about. To be honest, this, I believe, stems from the time when the Lira was the currency and the coins were about the same value as buttons. Italians think of the lower value coins in the same way. We in the UK would never think like this and nor would a shop offer us less than the exact amount of change.

Therefore, ALWAYS use debit cards (bancomat here) or credit cards (carta) to pay at the supermarket.

Shops: Can do the same as the supermarkets above in terms of small change. Pay by plastic, if you can.

Garages: Petrol/Diesel here is about the same price as the UK. I’m not sure this applies if you are using a UK (or foreign) debit/credit card but it certainly applies if you are using an Italian one. There is an extra charge made, by the bank, if you buy fuel by plastic. Always, therefore, use cash. Also, if you use cash, if you have, say, filled your tank with €50.03 worth of fuel (as I inadvertently did this morning), they will accept €50.

Bars: Except if you are going for a night out, use cash. Coffee costs less than €1. If we go for breakfast at our local bar, two cappuccinos plus two brioches (croissants to you) cost us about 5 Euro. And they will always give you the correct change down to the last cent.

Restaurants: If you know the restaurant or are getting a discount (or expect to get one) pay by cash. If you pay by card you will not get a discount or, if you have already been given one, they won’t be so happy with you. Depends, I suppose, if you want to go back there ;-)

If I think of any other places where you should use one or the other, I will update this post.

I hope it helps.

The rain in Italy falls mainly ……..; Then and now – who’d of thunk it?

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As I write this post (although you will be reading it sometime later this evening), it is raining.

Raining as it does here. Not like the UK at all, even if everyone comes and says:

“Andrew! The weather! It’s like the UK!”

To which I always reply, “Yes, which is why I don’t live there any more”.

As I say, it’s not like the UK at all. There’s no sign of a shower here, just rain, rain, rain.

Anyway, just in case you didn’t know, it seems that Buzz Lightyear will be tried in court after all. Although I have read that he won’t have to actually appear, which will make it less of a spectacle, I suppose.

Sooner or later, surely, he will have to resign. Even now, there is really no one who can fill his shoes. I find it a bit disheartening – that no one person has stepped forward to show how strong they are and how much support they have.

But who would have known that this charmer

would have ended up being this woman-charmer all those years later?

:-D

p.s. yes, I know it’s not good English in the title, thank you for pointing it out ;-)

St Valentine’s Night

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Last night we went to the Taverna della Lamparo.

We chose it because of all the restaurants we go to fairly regularly, it is the most romantic. The lighting is low, not bright like Italian restaurants tend to be; it is small, perhaps serving 30-odd people; the tables are big, there is plenty of room and the tables are well spaced out.

Also, the food is superb. OK so we only have fish there although they do have a very small selection of meat dishes but I had prawns with leeks to start with, hot, tasty – no, actually divine. I could have had a bigger portion as the main dish! For the main course, I had, as normal, the parcel of branzino (sea bass) with, in the parcel, potatoes, tomatoes, capers and olives. It was truly great, as always. F had his usual of thinly sliced raw tuna with raw fennel to start and then a sesame coated tuna steak, seared, on a bed of some vegetables.

For sweet we both had the apple strudel with a hot chocolate sauce. To drink we had a bottle of white wine (lighea) which is lovely and then to finish a glass of mirto each.

F had bought me a present. It was a beautiful key ring (from his shop). I had got him nothing, the window men having been much more than a couple of hours doing my windows and doors and then me having to wait for the washing machine.

I had bought him some white tulips the day before as these are his favourite flowers but I had nothing to give him. So, as I was paying for the meal, I bought a bottle of the lighea wine (as you cannot buy it in supermarkets or off-licences). It wasn’t as good as getting him a real present but, together with the tulips, I think it was OK.

We walked back. tomorrow I must start my non-diet again!

He went to bed and put the television on and I walked the dogs. I came back and told him I was going to have a glass of milk and then come to bed. 10 minutes later, I came to bed. He was propped up with one of my pillows in addition to his own, television remote control in hand, seemingly watching TV. One arm was round Dino who was lying next to him.

“I’m going to need my pillow back”, I said, laughing.

There was no response. As I got into bed, I realised that he was asleep. I reached over and took the remote control from his hand and switched off the TV. As I turned round, he woke up so I grabbed my pillow and we both settled down for a particularly quiet sleep, the double-glazed windows keeping out more sound, I am sure.

I adore him, you know?

Everything is new! Or, at least, tidied up :-)

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Hmmm. When they were measuring to replace the windows, they said that when they came to do them, it would take only a few hours. They assumed I would want to be back at work. In reality, of course, it being 3 p.m. (they started work at 8 a.m.) it is a good thing I took the whole day off.

It’s also a good thing that the new washing machine is coming between four and six. It’s also a good thing that my cleaner has not arrived yet. He is due to be here any time now but the men have, nearly, finished.

Many things have happened/are happening. It’s like a whole new place.

When we got back from our night away, because F had let a friend of his stay in his flat (and she was going to stay on Sunday too), we came to my house. We played cards and stuff. He decided that my fridge smelt of garlic and so, being the only thing we had not done during the great ‘Kitchen tidy up’, he decided we would do it now.

Everything was emptied out. Things past their sell-by date were thrown away (I’m really not good at that) and the fridge was cleaned (by F, of course). Now it is very tidy. Obviously, I must try to keep it that way.

We went to buy the new washing machine on Saturday morning, before we left. For the last few months, the machine has, during its spin cycle, sounded as if I had put a couple of boulders in with the washing. God knows what my neighbours have been thinking. So we went to Euronics (obviously). I decided to pay up to €600. So I have a new super washing machine coming this afternoon. This is kind of essential as the last wash I did on Friday night, didn’t actually get any spin at all. It washed and rinsed but no amount of coaxing and restarting by me resulted in any spin at all. And the thought of not having any washing done was terrible. And, as I’ve mentioned before, I AM NOT going back to hand washing.

The nice thing about Euronics is that, not only are they helpful and nice (although I prefer the smaller one on the corner of Viale Vittorio Veneto and Via Lazzaretto than the one on Corso Buenos Aires), they also did their best to get it delivered this afternoon. Obviously, as I write this, it hasn’t been delivered yet …… but I trust them. So there’s another few hundred Euro that Darty don’t have and Euronics do. And it will be the same when I have to replace the fridge, although I’m hoping this will be next year, at least.

So, a cleaned and organised fridge, new windows and doors and a new washing machine. What fun I have!

No Diet – Day four and other things.

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Well, that was all rather lovely.

But first I must thank all of you for kindly answering my call after I shamelessly prostituted myself for comments. I no longer feel quite so gay knowing that straight men like Mars bars too :-D.

On to last night. B was up in Milan and so we went to Sento as I predicted and wanted. It has been so long since I had sushi and it was divine. Even now I can picture the boat of bright red, pale pink and white fish laid on that particularly nice bit of sushi rice.

And I had the grilled beef. The wine was lovely – dry, crisp, white wine. Sake to finish. Sparkling water and sparkling company. B did seem so well and I was so happy to see her. We even made tentative plans to all go up to Pallanza for the weekend of Easter. Yay! Since last night I have checked with F who is also keen on this idea as long as it includes the bambini, of course and the opportunity to play cards.

Of course, as last night was all Japanese food, none of it is fattening in any way and so I already feel slimmer :-D

We talked and talked. Actually, as is usual with B, it felt that I did most of the talking …… again. She also came up, beforehand, to see the dogs, especially Rufus who has always been her favourite.

We also talked a little about V and I explained about the defriending on Facebook and so on. I explained that I was disappointed, which is true ……… now. I admitted to being a bit angry at first. After so long together, how DARE he just cut me off! But now I am just very disappointed.

And she talked about how she searched for her old boyfriends again – after all, if you were with someone for however long, they meant something, they had something that was attractive and one should never let that just disappear. And I’m with her on that. Perhaps I should make a little more of an effort to get in touch with M?

So, I just broke off to do just that!

And, for reasons that escape me (although it may have been seeing B last night or knowing that we’re going away this weekend or the fact that it’s Valentine’s Day on Monday), I feel incredibly happy. Which is in direct contrast to last week!

And so, I wish you all a very good weekend too. I hope you’re doing something special too :-)

Evening of Day three and start of Day four – a little set back or two.

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Well, depending on how you look at it, it’s all going rather well or it’s a complete disaster!

Like the button of yesterday, today has had it’s broken thing too. However, I only noticed once I got to work. Actually I only noticed after I had dropped the car off and was walking to work.

The car is being cleaned. This weekend we go for a night away using the Smart Box present that F got for his birthday last year. We have to use it now because it expires at the end of this month! And so we shall need to use the car. Since the car has not been cleaned since about last September and, knowing F’s slight obsession with cleanliness, I thought it better to get it cleaned :-D

And as I’m walking from the garage to work, something doesn’t feel quite right. It is, in fact, my shoe. The sole is coming apart from the uppers. These were €30 shoes that I bought about 18 months ago. I’ve been, sort of, meaning to throw them out for a month or so but being a stingy bastard, kept wearing them. Tonight, they will be thrown away. Today they have to survive. I will try not to walk too much.

Of course, I don’t think that the shoes are really like the button of yesterday. It is not caused by my fatness – unless my whole body is becoming bloated and I have some dread disease! But, I think not.

And, to add to this, last night was a bit of a set back too. I didn’t do the ‘wine diet’ last night. F joined us in Polpetta (again!) and he wanted beer. So, I thought, OK it’s only 1 night – for this one night I change to a ‘beer diet’ – except a ‘beer diet’ WILL make you fat – so I think I will drop it tonight. Oh, yes. I also had a very tiny piece of hard cheese, a couple of pieces of salami and, unfortunately because it was really nice, a couple of small pieces of bread with some very nice ricotta. So I suppose it was more than a little set back. More of a mountain of a set back. But, as I say, it was only one night.

Tonight it will be back to the ‘wine diet’.

Oh yes, and hopefully, some sushi.

But sushi isn’t fattening and you can eat as much as you like too!

It depends on B but I’m secretly hoping that she is up for the sushi.

So it will be white wine (which, to be frank, is even less fattening than red wine) and sushi. And maybe that nice manzo that they do. It’s only a small dish so that’s not really fattening either. And they don’t do bread at sushi restaurants so it will be fine.

I confess that I lied a bit at the beginning of this post. The bit about it going rather well. Quite obviously, it’s not but, luckily, I’m not overly worried. I mean, you can’t just change these things overnight, can you? On the bright side – it has been four days since I had a Mars bar. Perhaps I will turn straight! :-D