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Here at the Hotel Spidari in central Milan, there is a tiny Italian woman downstairs that asks no questions and makes cappucinos all day. I’ve been eating breakfasts down there while reading my book… every time I look up, she is standing there like a ghostly madonna, holding a new cappucino with a bowl of unpronouncable sweetener products. Yesterday morning, after the game, I did not know what to say to her, so I said, “Viva Forza Italia,” to which she returned a grim expression and presented a fresh cappucino.
My sister also says I should post more pictures of myself… so here ya go!
On Saturday night I headed over to the Navigli canals area, which is a nicer area of Milan with all sorts of restaurants and litle artsy shops that stay open late. This is also the same canal they built specifically to barge in stone and other materials to build the Duomo. This canal had everything you would expect in a quaint European area: picturesque restaurants, unique cultural shops, and dozens of angry-looking Nigerians selling trinkets of the Eiffel Tower.
I picked a heck of time to come to Italy! There is absolute chaos all over the streets here after the win. My hotel is right by the Duomo were everyone was watching on the big screen. The last time I saw this many drunk Italians is when I went the wrong way to the bathroom at Olive Garden and ended up in the kitchen; and they were not Italians. I think they were Mexicans.
And here is one I got right before the game started: