Returning to Italy was not on my radar, but in the spring of 2024 I stood in the main plaza of Cortina d’Ampezzo during the off-season. No one in sight and I imagined what it would be like to return for the Olympics.

Scene cut to late January 2026, when my friend Lizzie told me she’d be in Milan for an extended time to reconnect with the city and study Italian, intensely. She’d have a space for me in the apartment, and the Olympic Opening Ceremony would be taking place. I think it is so special when you like someone enough to go on a trip with them, and even more so when you invite them to go on a trip with you. I’m grateful for her and for the quirky salsa class that brought us together.

I had big plans for my first time in Milan those years ago, but unfortunately, a plane delay left time only for a heavenly dinner, strolling through Vittorio Emanuele at night in uncomfortable heels, and one night’s sleep in the cheapest accommodation possible near Milano Cadorna. When I tell people that I didn’t get to do anything, it’s true. The meal I had was from a late-night chain restaurant whose cuisine is actually based in Rome. I love you, Osteria de la Fortunata, and thank you for being open late. And honestly, the food hits the spot every time.

Lizzie checked with me, saying she wanted to buy tickets for the ceremony soon, and with the push I needed and after moving some responsibilities around, I booked my flight. I had a couple of days to spend in Emilia-Romagna upon my arrival before meeting her, since she would be touring Turin for the weekend. I took the train the airport to Milano Centrale and, thankfully, had time to refresh myself in a bathroom I used Apple Pay for after surviving a long line at customs, with train schedules allowing me to enjoy a bootleg khao soi at Waganama.

I wouldn’t be able to tell you how long the train to Parma took, because I fell asleep comfortably with enough awareness to wake up just before the stop. I walked to my hotel, Sina Maria Luigia whose name is inspired by Napoleon’s second wife, the Duchess of Parma. I booked the room with a panoramic view of the city

What can be said about the city of Parma? While it is possible to see the whole city on foot in one day, it is definitely impossible to eat your way though it all. My first stop, while still being full from the khao soi, was Brisla. Who knew that not having a reservation for this restaurant would be the impetus for a beautiful story for my first few hours in Emilia-Romagna. I arrived at the restaurant with barely enough time to resurrect the Italian phrases from my brain, but after seeing the space and chatting with the kind host, they unfortunately did not have a seat for me. As I strolled down the road to another spot while trying to make a reservation for dinner, I heard some steps and voice jogging after me. It was Marco, a patron who was at the restaurant who invited me to join their table with his friend Michele. Language was exchanged as best as possible, and I agreed. I enjoyed the wine their shared with me, my first time having a glass of Amarone della Valpolicella. I ordered lumache and tortelli en brodo. I also thought lumache was a pasta type, but if you know, I ordered the real thing. Silly me.

Often times, I try to avoid a detour because it distracts me from certain goals: the food I was going to order, the room I wanted to make for another meal, the specific wine I was planning on trying, but in the end, a detour is nothing but a redirection towards something more special and better than what you had planned. After lunch, my new friends and I made our way towards Piazza Garibaldi for a coffee. We were well aware we could have walked, but sped through the streets in a luxe Audi (fill in the model number here) instead. Momma taught me to never get into a car with a man (or men) you just met, but here we were. After some cuento, it was time for a nap and goodbyes. We parted ways, but not before making plans for pizza for dinner later than night.

I continued to walk around the city, taking photos of the river and parks and piazzas then made my way to back to the hotel to enjoy dusky views of the city and for a nap: the best nap of my life. I woke up every hour to make sure I didn’t miss my pizza date and soon I was off to try the most famous napolese pizza, Da Michele, a new staples in the small town of Parma. Dinner brought more friends my way and even better conversation.

To be continued . . .