Flew back to Milan to have an exam.
Italian system says: no, you cannot have exam.
So I decided to have a weekend full of joy and many drinks.
(not pictured. thank god.)
Imagined that if I would dress like a Russian, I would ice-skate like a Russian.
I skate more like a Raisin.
Now, Estonians used to be Russians, so that is just cheating.
Here is a very excited one.
Ice rink by Sesto Giovanni. Italians fistpump when they ice-skate. Fact.
Sunny Sunday at Colonne.
Sunday night is finished by a huge washing FAIL
and hopefully this one will remove the tint of dust
color on my whites. Chlorine anyone?
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