Now, imagine New York.
Now, imagine that New York and Paris fused themselves together and relocated to northern Italy.
The first thing I noticed about Milan is that the women were beautiful. Italian women all seem to be blessed with voluminous hair, curves, legs that go for miles, and little to no excess fat. Even the middle-aged and elderly women were chic, stylish, and strong. How they manage to retain such figures despite a diet consisting entirely of carbs is a mystery to me.
They took me to the famous Milanese Duomo and to see the equally famous, outrageously expensive Galleria Vittorio Emanuele II.
The happy hour, Italian style. Italians know how to do it right—you order a drink for somewhere between €7 to €9, and the food is free.
That’s right, the food is free.
A buffet full of Italian food, as much as you can possibly eat, for free! And the menu keeps changing throughout the night so you’re never tired of eating the same thing. Incredible. If only they had deals like that in America.
We climbed the 265 steps (I counted, in Italian of course) up to the top of the cathedral. The view was stunning—both of the cathedral itself and of the city below.
Before my visit I’d heard many warnings that Milan isn’t beautiful, that people are often disappointed when they got there. I once heard an Italian say outright, “Milan is a stink hole. Don’t go.” But I beg to differ. I loved Milan. I loved how urban, how real it was.
You can count me in for a move to Milan."
the Italian guy talking shit must've been a jealous one from Rome...
love it when they talk about my city, quite emotional