MONDAY, NOVEMBER 19
On the train ride from Paris to Milan, we passed through snowy mountains, read our books, gazed, deep in thought, through the moving window, and snoozed a little.
ARRIVING IN MILAN
It was dark when we arrived. I was so excited to be back in Italy. But the excitement was dampened upon entered the interior courtyard of our Airbnb . Scaffolding hugged the red brick walls, large plastic sheets were thrown across the dusty ground and fallen bricks were everywhere. Renovations underway. Also, the studio was very small and had a bunkbed!
Just a doorway away was Mykonos, a little hole-in-the-wall Greek restaurant where we ate. We weren’t in Paris anymore. The volume had gone up, large groups of people sat around the blue and white checkered tablecloths, excitedly talking over each other and gesturing wildly. It was a culture shock, but we’ve learned to let change move over us slowly. Everything would look different in the light of the next day.
Our one-room was freezing. Only 2 degrees outside, inside felt almost the same. The heat came on, loudly, at 11:30PM. And we heard it because neither of us slept. Every time either moved an inch, the metal poles holding up the bunkbed squeaked.
