a café in milan

you often read about chinese people buying up neighborhood cafés in venice. the first one i came across in milan was exactly that—a café with luggage storage, run by a couple who were pleasantly surprised that i spoke chinese.

on a quiet sunday morning, when nearly every shop was closed, their café was open. outside, locals sat with crossed legs, sipping espresso and talking, while a few older men unfolded their newspapers.

the couple told me they had lived in italy for more than thirty years and spoke perfect italian. the locals, it seemed, had embraced them fully—greeting them with cheerful ni hao and joking warmly with the wife behind the counter.

naviglio grande canal, milan