Ten years ago, I left Milan — where I lived for eight years — for London, UK. It’s been a week since I moved back.
- On Tuesday, I went for an aperitivo, which is a concept I’m not used to anymore. We met at 19:45 and, because of Covid-19 rules, booked a table. It was a slightly late dinner to me.
- We’re lucky to have a big park close to home, and took a walk there in the morning several times this week. On one occasion, I went on a see-saw and laughed like a child.
- Simone and I walked as far as Porta Venezia earlier this week to replace a small boiling pan that I burned. We’ve yet to reach the city centre.
- When I moved to Milan in May 2003, I was adventurous, unfazed by the chaos. Fast-forward to October 2021: the first time on the Metro felt like a dance lesson I couldn’t follow.
- On Friday, we visited the newly built area called Portanuova, and ate delicious dumplings in Via Paolo Sarpi, the centre of Milan’s Chinatown. Everything looked both familiar and foreign at the same time: I struggled to understand where I was geographically.
- Walking back to the car, a scared rat run toward us on the zebra crossing.
- Yesterday, we walked along the Naviglio della Martesana, where we encountered a few cute nutria families before having Greek food.
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