Oooh, another semi symmetrical date!
I'm here! Milano!
My feet hurt so I've been deposited in the bar. I'm sure I'll cope!
So let me tell you the story so far.
I left work at 6am on Friday after Manuela came in early for me.
Arrived home and loaded the car in the dark, and whoosh, we were on our way.
Arrived at Gatwick and was greeted by a fairly cheerful old man who was taking the car to park for me. Funnily he wanted to chat about people and fuel and mileage and he kept tapping his pen on Chris's VW Caravelle! So I ended the conversation as swiftly as I good whilst looking intently at the pen hoping old man would get it!
No, he didn't!
Without too much upset, we registered with the accessible team, who are about as accessible as a gate with a lock on it, but with less intelligence than the gate. Only 3 years ago, the said team nearly managed to miss our flight. I kept saying, 'the screen says we should be boarding.'
Her reply was, 'the planes not landed yet!'
Of course, it had landed and was boarding so we had to run!
This time was slightly different. The gate was published on screen at 10.50. The flight was at 11.40. Another jolly man came along and asked if we had our running shoes on as we had to dash!
Me and running shoes should never be in the same sentence!
Because there was a long walk (or run) to the boarding gate, about 6 miles it felt like, we had to power walk all the way, kicking other passengers out of the way on our mission.
You know those escalator style walkways, it amazes me the amount of people who just stop when they get off causing a domino effect. And for some, it's their choice to stand there and wait for someone, actually in the opening to the walkway!!! Wonders will never cease!
Anyway, we get through the X-ray machines and someone manhandles Chris, as is the norm, although he'd prefer a woman to a man!
We go to the front of the queue, no speedy boarding fee for us, and we are admonished by a stunningly gorgeous man for crossing the line! Not that we were told not to cross the line, and actually, the line was an imaginary line! Obviously got up to early this morning! He did backtrack a little and his accusing stroppy voice stopped and became a pleasant one. I don't know why, but I felt the need to tell him how gorgeous he was! Poor embarrassed red faced...... Pilot! He was our pilot.
He can press my buttons any day. He can rev my engine any day. He can enter the mile high club with me any day. He can take me to a high altitude any day. He can..... Ok I'll stop now!!
We land. The pilot kisses me goodbye tenderly, a girl can dream.
We are taken through customs like VIPs, ahead of everyone and we are passed from one helpful Italian to another, taken to the treno, yes treno is the Italian for train! How sweet. Treno!
What they didn't say was, there's a strike. No treno's.
We attempt the bus and hope a nice Italian man will help Chris up the steps on the bus.
Result. The driver does it. They wouldn't do that in the UK. He just threw Chris over his shoulder like a sack o' spuds.
A manic drive to Milan centre, and I mean manic. The Italians are crazy drivers. I've known them do stunts like, driving along a road on the edge of a mountain and remove their jumper over their heads!
I had kittens! Italian ones! I'm still here to tell the tale though.
So an hour of eyes closed and praying!
Oh Milano, how I've missed you!
The passionate exchange of words, the gesticulating. You'd think they were fighting, but no. The last two words show it's just the way they are. Buon natale! (Merry Christmas)
The other odd thing.....Ciao!
It's hello and goodbye which, if you're not on the ball, can be quite confusing!
Pizza by the dozen eaten. The word 'scuzi' shouted at all the Italians who don't look where they're going and would end up wearing a wheelchair if I didn't shout it. Lake Como visited after shenanigans with the treno's! And this years extra excitement. Prosecco!!
Yes I have brought my new hobby to Milano. I'm having my fave tipple with each evening meal. What a rebel I am!
But my feet! Who has my real feet and has left me with this set made of play dough? And quite a deep red play dough too!
After a short time on my pins my feet throb and burn, my ankles swollen making me look like an OAP.
I even posted on the UK Lymphoma site and it seems others had the same problem. So, as expected, I am normal!
It's funny, if you have a symptom after chemo, you worry. As soon as another lymphoma sufferer says they had/have it too, it makes it ok!
So I'm sat here in the bar waiting for Chris and Chloe to return from the Armani shop before heading off for lunch!
This is me relaxing in the hotel, this is my room rather than the bar. I felt a little conspicuous sat in the bar doing selfies!
Lunch was a casual affair - pizza if i remember rightly. Followed by hot chocolate and panettone at Savinis.
Had a lovely time at Savinis. The lady on the bakery counter also remembers us from our yearly visits. She nearly dived on Chris when we arrived. Last year Chris bought a fair few pannettones for himself and gifts and she forgot to wrap them all, so when we got home, there were some missing. She's felt guilty all year, so she had the AWOL items ready for him.
We felt like VIP's there. We had most of the waiters attention. It was lovely.
Back to the hotel whilst Chris and Chloe carried on their shopping expedition. I managed to snap the tree in the Piazza on the way back to my hideout.
It was a beauty this year. There were lights on it that looked like they were dripping ice. Icicles, i suppose you'd say. Best one so far.
As i limped my way back to the hotel, i followed a middle aged couple and a young girl, obviously the daughter. They were walking slower than me, which i find hard to believe with my poorly feet. But strangely they were staying at the Hotel Brunelleschi too. I managed to overtake them and got to the reception before them to ask for key 512. The man from the couple, was behind me waiting for his key. As i got to the lift, the wife and daughter were there. They almost wouldn't let me in it. They were saving it for the dad. There was 4 lifts there and they were holding the lift, and preventing others using it. I pushed through and dad was then ready so we all squashed in. I noticed they got out at floor 4. I also noticed them open the door to the room near the lift, like my own but on the fifth floor, of course. Room 412. They were in the room below us.
I continued my ascent to the next floor, unlocked my door and entered. Unlike my normal habit of, boots off, coat off, wee and sit down, i decided on a new habit. Keep boots on and stamp about so as to annoy the people in the room below!!! Regardless of sore feet, i danced for hours - with my boots on!!!
More foot resting and ogling the Italian men that frequented the hotel bar! Until dinner of course.
We ambled the cobbled streets looking for a decent looking restaurant.
Found one!
Unfortunately it was a mistake. The food was very mediochre. It always happens. Our last meal in Milan is nearly always not that good. Luckily we had had our fill of scrummy stuff for the previous meals.
The end of our Milan trip was nigh.
We had had good food, good fun and laughter. Good times.
Our bed times consisted of us all being silly. Lots of silly laughter and general silliness which culminated in Chris falling through the gap between the 2 beds.
More silliness and more laughter.
The next morning we awoke to Chris complaining he felt rough. Unfortunately he kept that feeling for the whole day, vomiting at various stops along the way of our journey. On the bus to the airport, outside the departures, and on the plane. Which leads to another tale!
A middle-aged Italian couple sat in from of us on the plane. She had bright red curly hair which Chris commented on looked really cool.
About 20 minutes before landing, Chris started to vomit. Mrs red head dived forward in her seat, scarf thrust in her face, whilst Chris urgled and gurgled and made quite revolting wretching noises. Not much to bring up as he'd not eaten anything.
After his recovery, Mrs red head still sat forward trying to surreptitiously look behind to make sure he'd stopped chucking up. Still with her scarf at her nostrils. She could have done with growing a pair of balls! She even asked the hostess if she could move seats, but there were no others - shame!!! So she continued to sit forward, petrified that Chris was gonna douse her in vomit.
Realising her panic, Chris continued to make wretching noises to wind her up!!! He's awful, such a naughty boy.
Anyway we managed to get home with him feeling nauseous but 'controlling' himself, something he's very good at.
Within 2 seconds of entering the house, he was sick again.
It was either a bug, a migraine, or that nasty restaurant - our last Milanese meal!
Im glad to report he's feeling better as of this morning and I'm sure it won't put him off returning next year to do it all again!
I cannot report on Mrs red head though. Probably still has her scarf surgically joined to her nose.
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