22 december - Milan & Winter

Not one of my favourite cities at all. It's just ... small and boring. And this time it was also very cold. Only I was prepared but someone else who came with me was freezing his little ass off. Well, he did have cashmere socks ... in his suitcase but didn't bother to put them on. Or layer his woollens. You know, once in Rome do as the Romans do and the Milanese are the main consumers of designer puffa coats, hats, merino and cashmere wool and lovely but sturdy winter shoes.

The reason for visiting was to go somewhere else but spend some time with a good friend, my beloved D. who no longer looks like the young stud he was when we met and he was 25 (he's going very prematurely but totally distinguished grey at the temples and has loaded up a stone to his tall frame) but he's still mr gentleman and adorable. His g/friend thinks the same as she tells me the story of the first time he walked into her office (she's a property lawyer and he's an estate agent) and she elbowed a colleague out of the way to get him and his contracts). Sweet.

We have nice dinners, we go to many lovely bars, we don't see the inside of a club because we're too tired, even the not thirty year olds yet, we don't buy anything as it's all mega full on price still and we see a pretty good exhibition of David Lachapelle's photos. We visit some top of the range shops and watch as the local equivalent of wags and footballers agents pour out of giant 4 x 4s and swan in wearing the usual gigantic sunglasses and permatans the world over. Truly Milan has nothing to offer except for some performances in that bijoux opera house of theirs, but we have no interest in the production featured that evening.

We sleep in D.s apartment which is smaller than expected (all the money goes on the top of the range Merc) and I let memory stray back to D. and his ...ways. But I hate Milan.