An American in Paris

Patrick left for mass and the plan was to go meet him at the Duomo so I could take a look around inside.  So we were waiting in line etc, watching old Italian men feed pigeons and such and then a security guard at the church starts yelling at me in Italian.  I politely tell him that I don’t speak Italian, to which he goes “Espanol?” to which I reply “Francais?”  Anyhow, he tells me in French that I’m not allowed inside the church because my skirt is too short.  Get over yourself Italian Catholic Church, it’s 2011 and 90 degrees outside.  Whatever…

We wandered about in the cool fashionable streets and ultimately sat down at a little place for lunch.  I had a caprese salad with the biggest ball of fresh mozzarella I have ever seen in my life and it was glorious and I ate the whole thing and omg I’m drooling just thinking about it.  Anyway, then we went to a little cafe where we had (supposedly) the best coffee in Milan.  It was pretty damn good.  We sat on the sidewalk drinking espresso and soaking up the sun.  Italy loves us.  We went into H&M and let me tell you, Italian H&M is wayyyy better than American H&M.  Just sayin.

There was a little open air market on Via Buenos Aires, so we walked down the street looking at little cheese, olive, vinegar and sausage vendors.  Lots of cute dogs.  Next stop gelato.  For dinner we went back to the same restaurant as the night before cause everything is closed on Sundays and we didn’t feel like walking around to find a new place.  We got back to our hostel to learn that six new people moved in, and three of them probably have sleep apnea because it took me an hour to fall asleep with all of them snoring.  Ugh.