Milan makes me feel meridional inside..

Saturday Forty five minutes early
Who would have said, I who are always late chronic, I'm here at the central station of the Great City of F. with forty-five minutes in advance and one hour improper, the 7.30. Yes, I am.
What does the love! And thank goodness I called trenton to hear the strike of staff of my region, I had accidentally taken the train ticket before, that of 7 and not that of 8.15. Thank goodness!
You know that stuff, that I have come to the station and I notice that you have the ticket for the train already left!
Forty-five minutes early and the train never seems to arrive. For the newspaper, but with a shoulder bag and the basket (see photo) on my shoulder I can not open it. Imagine if I support! Ts! I'm standing near the Eurostar platforms to wait for the program starts to have the track of my train to Milan Central and shoot toward the car.
What zoo of humanity that is varied from station.
Stream of commuters flooded this environment to rationalist waves.
Subjects strange face sporadically between the flood of white headphones approved by the ears.
A bum asking for an offer of coffee and a pole bony, with stilts sixties blonde hair waves from a major stride between track and track, a beautiful young man - yes, Nath, I looked! - The hair from clothing and casual law El Pais, without ever lifting his eyes. Remain curious to know the color.
Finally the train arrives, I take the spot and began a meticulous reading of the newspaper. Once finished, with careful note of the books reviewed that I would but I can not buy - see the previous chapter are heading in bill - I think good to use these two hours left to study. Studiareeeee?! Every time I get the fees I think: "Now put me to study seriously, almost two years that I do not do an examination, what a shame." Most of the time not even take the pace, pitch books from shelf to another. Sms message with the purpose to my room Nath and then collapse under the weight of boring even read 10 pages. When I wake up, missing only one hour to our embrace. I have a couple of phone calls to do in Milan el'arrivo is rapid.

Saturday, ahead of the track.
Go down. I can not find anything to look in the mirror. Nothing. Neither a dirty window or a sign advertising. Accelerate the pace, he should be there at the beginning of the track. His first bus arrived, this time. This time there will be.
Do not even come to the bottom and I see him, shaved, Sbarbati completely, which seeks with eyes in the crowd. You face will, the eyes move with a quick movement of the earth on the flow of people that runs and passes.
I will stop. The drive. Something that I look, just me.
Appearance and get rewarded, and I saw his face lights up. That emotion all the time. The heart in my throat and sale at the right time in strabocca kisses, hugs and words in half.
We are. Leave the big metal roof of the central Milan, the great white atrium to reach the square. The sun, there is a beautiful sun smiles on us.
Coffee bar and usual way to find this path Boscovich. The area is not bad, close to the station but not too much, the houses are not very high, flowering and well tended. "It seems Torino", say. My true love, it seems your Torino. We find the Serena Hotel and the rudeness of his receptionist, but who cares if, after he has given us the key to Room 21, who reminds you more!
We have saved, true. The room is clean, true. The bathroom is large, true. Acceptance of automation, if they care about, true, but caper that could put at least a tie to the legs of those two twin apparatus bedroom!
I do not hate your bed that opens into two under the weight of our bodies in love!

Saturday and Kandinsky
I do not remember most logical reason for what I had planned a visit to his show on Saturday, perhaps to avoid any queue Sunday, perhaps to reach the five that we and we left the hotel room, at dinner, or to have the Sunday free to do anything else, or everything together. The fact is that the hotel a good thing to have it, the position. We soon come out in Corso Buenos Aires which is not the desolate road traffic carriageable that we have come the previous week end in Milan. Quickly arrive in Piazza San Babila, even without looking at a window, taking just a coffee, we bill or not? Drittidritti at Palazzo Reale, we are going to great Wassilly.
Nath to admit that I have not studied, neither in life nor a student in the pre show the abstract painter. We enter, both unaware of his poetic and leave impressed.

Free interpretation of data provided by the exhibition:
V.K. initiated scientific studies to address the art reducing the essence, the juice, the bone: vibration, shape, color. Each graphic form, each color creates a subjective relationship with the user entering directly connected with his soul.

The exhibition is in itself unaacchiappaturisti, the important works, or rather very few are famous. However well-prepared and enlightened. Nothing to purchase via bookshop and on the streets of a cold city. But I am sure I am not unprepared to find that, by good meridionaledentro which are, at the instance of mitici Toto and Peppino, socks and hat and gloves so affront the weather.

 

Second part

Saturday. Garibaldi was wounded, was wounded in the leg ...
Restaurant booked. Something we learned from our travels from one city to another to make love. It is better organized. You avoid wasting time, that precious fourth dimension that we need to love. Wander randomly in a big city in search of a place nice and not dear it is not easy. LaMadama I had recommended the restaurant Al Garibaldi, Nath had booked and we arrived on time.
We arrived on foot, passing by La Scala, pausing to appreciate or disdain the clothing of those who start at the theater. We randomly across the district which is delightful Brera, coming just behind the Emerald Theater.
Provincial as good as we are, we are surprised to play the bell to enter the restaurant. One type has opened and brought to the table by passing the office - I think it is called so - that environment démodé between kitchen and living room where you keep track and dishes. Nice environment, a little 'old-fashioned, almost fell, but not bad. Interesting menu, but better to stay light (we have eaten almost all the pizza in a brine of hunger chemical attack post love) to health and their wallets.
I'm going to the bone hole, I want to see how the cook here at home, while my Nath takes the rabbit can not remember how. In conclusion dishes good, some problems on the service fee but no complication in judging the bill too expensive. Eighty euros for an appetizer, two seconds and two glasses of wine. Too. One for all, covered five dollars. Un po 'troppo not?

Saturday, a blanket for two.
Compass that I am! Not in the sense that they are not slanciatissima, no ... e un po 'Bussolotti are. Compass in the sense that I have a good sense of direction, and Nath, no.
The first step out of the restaurant has done in the wrong direction. E un po 'l'ho preso in giro, obvious is not it? But when in the Republic has shown the direction of Piazza Duomo station trying, I just burst out laughing from meriodionaledentro.
Conducted in the hotel I did pay a high price for this service ... How?
I have to read, and read and read until my eyes were having a hard time staying open ... what were understood?
During the night, we realized that in addition to all these wonderful emotions dell'Innamorata, in addition to knowledge of other cities and other logos, were dividing even one, single covered by a small square.