Coffee and Cafés - Book Two of the Café Latte Trilogy

Real Italian Coffee

Tom's in Italy!

I freaking love what I've seen of Italy, I've been to Rome and Venice and jammed probably as much tourism as is humanly possible to do into those trips. I'm excited to visit again once COVID isn't preventing me from leaving my flat.

However, I've never been to Milan. This chapter comes purely from speaking to people who have lived there and doing some good old fashioned googling. My sincere apologies to any Italian readers for any horrendous grammar errors in the few Italian bits, I rely purely on translations online for this!

Love, Cam

♡

****

Mattia had been right; the Naviglio Grande was beautiful. It reminded me of Venice's grand canal, but a little smaller and with fewer singing gondoliers for the tourists. Angelo took me there for lunch, strolling peacefully with me, hand in hand, pointing out various stalls selling handmade goods and cafés with pastries and cakes that smelled amazing. It was the daytime, so many of the bars and clubs were naturally closed, but Angelo said he would bring me back the next evening to show me the nightlife.

I hadn't known what to expect in terms of being in an obviously gay relationship in Italy. I knew a decent percentage of the population was Catholic, which was a vastly different situation to England and the UK in general. Christianity was still present in the UK, but it was often just with the older generations, and I rarely met anyone my own age that was religious. I didn't expect to be met with hate crime just for holding Angelo's hand, but I wondered if it would upset some people to see. Fortunately, no one seemed to mind. Most people that looked at us seemed to simply be admiring Angelo, which I couldn't judge them for. I was doing the same thing.

"It's tourist season," Angelo replied when I voiced my concerns. "And we are in a tourist-central place, so honestly they're just more used to seeing LGBT couples - if we were in a more rural area it probably would be met with more hostility, it gets more conservative. But in the cities it's generally as safe as the cities in England. We might get some looks from older people, but I doubt anyone would say anything unless we were being inappropriate."

I grinned. "No promises."

"They have a queer area here," he said. "Porta Venezia, it's got gay bars and things like that. We have an LGBTQ+ film festival too, but that's not really surprising. We have a thousand and one film festivals here. It's the cultural hub of Italy, really. Well, according to me, and I'm slightly biased because I'm from Milan."

I laughed. "No arguments from me, if you're from here, then it must be the cultural hub."

He kissed my hand. "I'm so happy you're here, tesoro. It's wonderful to show you Milan."

"Thank you," I beamed, my heart full of love. "It's beautiful. And I love seeing you at home. I just missed you a lot."

Angelo pulled me in so he had his arm around my shoulders as we walked. I put my arm around his waist, feeling more comfortable in doing so now that I'd made sure we wouldn't be causing a problem for ourselves by being affectionate. One thing that absolutely flummoxed me was how friendly everyone was; when we stopped at a few stalls, the vendors greeted us cheerfully and genuinely, complimenting me on my shirt and Angelo on his shoes. Brighton had been full of friendly people, but I was used to living in London now, where everyone was categorically rude to everyone else.

"Salve," a waiter greeted Angelo as we walked into a café. "Tavolo per due?"

"Si, grazie," Angelo replied, and we were seated by the canal, shaded from the sun by a parasol. "Tom? Coffee?"