Tuesday, 18 August 2015


Hi guys, today is about gay stories in the Mediterranean and a great VIDEO of the hottest gay male celebrities - unmissable!

Zurich, Milan, Portofino, Venice, May 2007

On the first weekend of May, Sjors and I took an ICE train from Berlin Central Station to Zurich, where we visited my ex boyfriend Olaf. We decided to stay over for a couple of days, in occasion of Olaf’s birthday and his housewarming party.

Sjors and Olaf seemed to get along quite well and it was funny to hear them speaking Dutch, their native language. My ex boyfriend’s new home was modern and bright, with some exquisite piece of furniture designed in Milan. Olaf had spent a fortune on every single detail to spoil all the 40 guests of his party. Guys from all over Germany, England and Switzerland could enjoy liters of Champagne, beers, various cocktails and delicious food. On the Sunday afternoon Sjors and I took a Cisalpino train to Milan Stazione Centrale and four hours later we were in the city of fashion on the other side of the Alps.

During our stay in the Italian Peninsula, we decided to spend every second day in Milan and the rest of the week to travel to Portofino, Como and Venice. Sjors and my parents could not really talk one another as they did not speak each other language, however, with the use of hands, they somehow managed to communicate and most of the times I translated from German into Italian and vice versa. Translating for my parents and my boyfriend had its pro and its contra. Spending the whole evening thinking how to express something properly gave me headaches, but on the good side, I could value each sentence and censure what could have shown my weak points. On Monday Sjors and I visited Milan city centre. From the roof of the Duomo, the cathedral, seat of the archbishop of Milan build between the 14th and the 19th century, we could see the Alps and the city skyline. In the afternoon, after a sightseeing of the Sforza Castle and its surroundings, we went shopping in Via Montenapoleone, the famous designer store street in Milan’s “Fashion Quadrangle”. The exclusive district, which might be considered the equivalent of Monopoly’s Boardwalk or Mayfair, can offer Prada, Armani, Versace, D&G, Valentino and many others and one can admire Ferrari, Maserati and Lamborghini parked one after the other, showing off their perfect shapes. In the evening Sjors and I went eating at the Trattoria Toscana and we had a few beers on a boat with a romantic atmosphere on the Naviglio Grande, one of Milan’s canals.

On Tuesday I took my boyfriend to Santa Margherita Ligure, where we walked to the harbour and we informed ourselves about the ferries schedule. At 10am we took a ferry to Portofino, the small fishing village with its red, cream and yellow coloured houses and its yachts moored in the harbour.  After an hour break, we followed the tourist path through the mountains to San Fruttuoso, where we ate at a tiny trattoria on a little pebble beach. We were picking up some little green glass stones, probably former beer bottles reshaped by the sea, when Sjors showed me a natural pier and insisted to go there. I found it an exciting idea and we climbed up together to our secret place, where there was no one but us. Before that romantic view we started kissing and taking our clothes off. Everything was perfect, just the two of us in a paradise, at least until a ferry full of people, coming from the gulf next to ours, appeared. Sjors managed to put his clothes back on and I hid behind him, to avoid being seen naked by the old lady with the red paper straw hat, who was exploring the coast with her binoculars. At 5pm we were at the moor, where our ferry was supposed to leave, but no one was there. We asked a fisherman what was going on and he informed us that we had missed the last ferry at 4pm and we had got wrong information from the harbour in Santa Margherita. The fisherman offered to bring us with his boat to Portofino for 150 Euro, but we opted for a cost free walk back in the mountains. It was a two-hour promenade and I kept on telling Sjors, to be careful and to keep the left, as the slope was pretty steep, but he did not pay attention. I was heading the way, when suddenly I heard a tremendous noise, I turned behind and Sjors was not there. I looked below terrified and I saw him some three meters further down covered in sand. “Nicht bewegen!” – “Don’t move!” I kept on telling him and while I was trying to find a way to lift him up, Sjors managed to climb back up safe and sound.

After another relaxing day in Milan, where we visited some other must-see and we met my friends for an aperitif, we decided to spend Wednesday in Como, by the homonymous lake.

We took a regional train early in the morning and we had cappuccino e brioche in a café by the lake.

After breakfast we took a ferry to Cernobbio and from there we walked the whole way back, admiring some of the most beautiful houses, nevertheless it was the location, where some Hollywood Stars like Clooney had chosen to buy their villas. In the early afternoon we went to lay down next to Villa Geno fountain, with its 40-meter shot. The grass next to it was humid, but we decided to lay down our towels anyway. We were about to sit down on the fresh grass, when the wind changed and liters of water poured on our heads and clothes. We laughed, we hanged our soaking wet towels on a fence and we sat on the grass, to dry ourselves up. In the late afternoon, we took time kissing and looking at the enchanting sunset over the Alps.


I had already been to Venice, but every time I visited the city in the lagoon it was a sensational experience. As soon as we got off the train in the Stazione Santa Lucia, we stood a few seconds looking through the glassy façade of the station: Venezia was before my eyes again. The Gondolas were navigating slowly in the canal surrounded by the majestic buildings of a city with a glorious history. We walked through the tiny “Calle”, the Venetian streets and we crossed a few romantic bridges until we reached Piazza San Marco. In the square I asked an Asian tourist if he could take a picture of us in front of the Basilica. “Cheeeeeeeese” – CLICK どもありがとございます - domo arigato gozaimasu”. I thanked thinking that the man was Japanese. “I don’t speak Japanese, I am Korean!” Answered the man disappointed. I took Sjors to see the famous “Ponte dei Sospiri”, where the prisoners had walked to face their cruel destiny and after a coffee in the Piazza, we decided to go to Murano. “Are you having your honey moon in Venice too?” Asked us a British couple on the overcrowded ferry. As we reached the island, famous for its glass artisans, we had lunch and we visited some of the shops. In the afternoon I took Sjors to the Lido, so that we could enjoy the beach before going back to Milan. After our Italian “honey moon”, as Sjors and I were back in Berlin, I thought it was the time for my boyfriend to know about my past relationships.