The problem, of course, with having such a lovely, soul-filling, restful little stretch is that eventually it has to end. And the nearest city to go on to immediately afterward was unfortunately Milan. Honestly, I've never really had much of a desire to see Milan, but I've always sort of felt like I should at some point. It seemed like such a glitzy place, and incredibly mysterious, as I always seem to hear it mentioned but knew really absolutely nothing about it. So I thought, alright, onward to Milan!
The thing is though, for the first time since I stepped off the plane two months ago, the minute I set foot in this city... I couldn't wait to leave. I truly and honestly hated this town. I know that sounds harsh... and the funny thing is I can't give you a good reason for it. The city itself really was a lovely, pretty place. I mean, see for yourself:
It really was just as lovely as any other place... I just hated it. I hated the spirit of it, I hated the feeling of it, and I hated the way people looked at you as you walked down the street. Never have I been in a place that made me feel more... unworthy, somehow. And I just came from Paris! I mean, really... sheesh! So even though I don't think I'll ever be able to put it into words, all I can say was that after two days I was more than ready to hightail it out of there, and on to more friendly parts of Italy.
2 comments:
Try using stream of consciousness maybe? It might give you some insight as to why it was such a strongly negative place for you.
Also...I had been thinking of getting a camera for a while. When it came time to getting one, I figured what better way to research than to actually use one and I had used yours and loved it. I have named mine R2-C2.
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