I wouldn’t call this post ‘news’, since that implies something amazing. A round-up of events is probably a better description. And it’s long because it includes a rant, so, sorry about that in advance.
Football. Manchester United versus Milan. Last night, all the bars that had coverage via satellite were doing a roaring trade. I found it difficult to find a place to park – and we’re the opposite side of Milan! It seems that, to really enjoy the evening, people had travelled from outside Milan into the centre to go and watch the spectacle at a bar!
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.
We’ve had a lovely couple of days away. Enjoying the atmosphere, the climate, the country and, most importantly, friends’ company, good food and wine.
I can feel the wind on my face and my hair. I can feel the sway of the boat and the surge as it hits the waves. I can hear the engine and the sounds of the other passengers. It’s comfortable and I feel safe. I’m sitting next to Chiara. She is beautiful. Well, when I say that, her voice is beautiful. She has long, dark hair and a pretty face, although none of this I can see. It’s not that it’s night, it’s total darkness. Really. Not a single iota of light. I am blind. She often grasps for my hand. She has a delicate, slightly cold, hand. Long fingers, Sweet, like her.
OK. So we all (native speakers, that is) know about question tags, don’t we? We know how to and when to use them. We use them automatically, without thinking, all the time for many, many situations. They open a conversation with a stranger, they give others the chance to show that they agree with us (or not, of course), we use them when we’re unsure about something, etc. And, depending upon the fall or rise of the tone will tell the other person what we are trying to say (after all, they may be called question tags, but they aren’t always questions that we create, are they?)
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.
7.20 p.m.
Hi to all my readers. The list is growing and there’s now about 6 of you out there reading this! I can’t believe it and feel quite guilty that I don’t write something much better!
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I found it hard to believe, but there are two people that actually read this blog! I know this only because they told me. In fact, one of them complained that most of it was boring, so, basically, they only read the first few lines!
I love Italy. I love the Italians. I think I love the Italian way of life, but it’s more complicated than it seems at first, which is to be expected. I love the culture. I love the buildings (and, in particular, many buildings in Milan). I expected much more red-tape, but, so far, I have been pleasantly surprised.
BUT, don’t go thinking that living in Italy is just like living in the UK, but with better food and more red-tape. It’s not the same at all. Of course, I’m sure you can go to certain areas (Tuscany, maybe), where there will be enclaves of British folk living their British way of life, but in a beautiful setting and where, should you wish, you need not worry too much about actually living with the Italians.
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