Tag Archives: Driving

When a town is not a town

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It was last weekend when I went. It has the word ‘town’ in its name so, I thought, it must actually be a town. Seems reasonable to me. Being an ‘outlet’ town, I was expecting something similar to Bicester Village, Vicolungo or Serravalle.

I don’t really like them, as you may remember but this was one of the first in this area and is in Switzerland and, travelling by road, to and from the UK, I have passed it many times.

In fact, it’s only just past Como, so immediately, one thinks of beauty with the backdrop of the Alps.

And, as it was so famous, I did want to see it. It’s less than an hour from Milan and easy to get to (Motorway all the way unless you don’t want to pay the annual motorway fee in Switzerland.

Apart from the fact that it rained all day; we weren’t high enough to see snow-capped mountains; and the place itself – it was wonderful.

So, why didn’t I like it? Well, it’s not a town. It’s called Fox Town but, really, it’s a shopping centre (or mall, to you Americans). And a very ugly one at that. Everything seems Italian (the language, the people) except the currency which is Swiss Francs. The prices are not so cheap for the fact that it’s stuff that’s already out of fashion – certainly no cheaper than Vicolungo or Serravalle, although on the plus side, the guy assistant in Iceberg was rather cute.

Overall, much more of a disappointment than I thought would be possible. And then, back in Milan and my umbrella was ‘borrowed’.

To be honest, if it’s a nice day, I would prefer one of the other outlet centres, should you be visiting here and insist on doing outlet shopping.

It’s warm enough for cooling.

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I forgot to tell you – and it was such an exciting thing!

In the car, the heater has been set, most of the winter to about 28 degrees. I really don’t like the cold.

Recently, on my way home, I have had to turn it down or, even, off. On Friday morning, as I was coming to work, it got warm enough and I turned it down to 25 degrees.

The heating works in such a way that, for the first 5 or 10 minutes, in the morning, the heater does not come on until the engine has warmed up enough. Therefore, I get to expect that there will be no heating until I have cleaned my glasses and am about to have my first cigarette.

On Friday evening, leaving work, I drove out of the gates and, as I was driving up the road, I noticed that the heating was on straight away. Then I looked at the temperature and saw that it was 24.5 degrees and it wasn’t the heating that was on but, rather, the air conditioning and the air was cool.

Fantastic! It’s now warm enough for cooling. I am very happy.

Can’t Fit, Won’t Fit; I know, let’s wake everyone up!; Sending emails to Gmail accounts is difficult!

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I know that V will survive without me but, sometimes, I wonder how?

I mean, take last night as an example. He arrived home and asked me if I had a washing machine where I was going. I replied in the affirmative. He suggested that we could get one for free from a work colleague and all we had to do was pick it up. This would, indeed, be useful as the washing machine no longer works and both of us are fed up with hand washing.

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A quick overview – Gay, immigrant, drunk, nail-biting, Tibetan Taxi Driver

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I must apologise for my lack of posts this month. There have been many times that I’ve started to write something, been distracted or ran out of gas halfway through and they just never get finished.

I have wanted to say things about the events in Tibet; gay people; drink/driving; immigrants; and many other things but they just haven’t made it to the blog.

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Gianna Nannini

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Gianna Nannini or, as I thought for ages, Gian Annanini (although why some woman would have a blokes name, God only knows), was truly fantastic. Her name is pronounced Janananini as there is no gap when you say it.

This is helped, no doubt, by the fact that the last concert (and first here, in Italy) that I went to was…wait for it…Robbie Williams!

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Dancing in the street; “The best espresso this side of Milan”

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More on our trip to the UK.

I have mentioned this before but it was particularly noticeable as I haven’t been back to the UK for a while.

People here, in Milan (and maybe the whole of Italy), walk just like they drive. There is no forward planning and manoeuvres are made at the last minute and only if absolutely necessary. Except that, the difference between people and cars is that, if you bump into another car with your vehicle there will be a lot of time spent sorting out the insurance; shouting and screaming at each other with a lot of gesturing; many years of paying extra for your insurance.

Bumping into people does not cause any of those things. So, as a result, people manoeuvre a lot less when walking and there is a lot of bumping. And, more importantly for the people from the UK – no apologising!

Whilst in the Scottish city, we had spent a couple of hours walking round the shops and dancing in the street – by that, I mean the little two-step dance whilst trying to avoid other people.

I asked V if he had noticed that, in all the time we had been walking, not once had anyone so much as brushed past us. He replied that he hadn’t but that now I had mentioned it, it was true. It was so pleasant. I must admit that, having been here for almost 4 years now, I no longer apologise when bumped into or even when I bump into someone else. It has taken all this time and a great deal of personal resolve to stop saying ‘sorry’. There is a way of walking here that means head up, stare straight ahead, ignore the fact that the person is approaching you without any intention of moving slightly out of your way and, if they are much bigger than you, only move slightly to one side at the very last possible moment. If there is any physical contact, whatever you do, DO NOT say ‘sorry’ – after all, it’s their fault for being in your way.

But it was so nice to stroll around without having bruises at the end!

I did drink a lot of tea whilst there and it was very, very nice. But I did miss the Italian coffee. So, whilst out, we saw a Café Nero and decided to go in and have the ‘real Italian coffee’ that they purported to sell.

Of course, here, a café latte is not taken so often and, certainly, is not as big as the Café Nero ‘regular’ let alone ‘large’. However, we were in the UK so a large café latte seemed in order.

Maybe it’s the water; or the coffee; or the milk – whatever it was, it did not make it particularly nice. And I very much doubt (although I didn’t try it, so I can’t be sure) that their espresso is not the best this side of Milan. After all, we have quite an area of Italy between Milan and the French border and, I can assure you, coffee in any part of Italy is superb.

I do remember that, when we still had the flat in Hay and returned to help out at the festival 3 years ago, we brought our moka back with us along with a supply of coffee so that we could make our morning fix.