Ants and I have succumbed to Italy's one true religion. Every Sunday, without fail, we go ... shopping. From the flea markets at Porta Portese to the bustling supermall at Parco Leonardo (which does a cracking sausage and broccoli pizza, if ever you're shopping with a hangover!). I've never seen anything like it. Boys in this country grow up dreaming of football, and girls dream of Prada - although the boys are dab hands at spending cash too, if their carefully groomed appearances are anything to go by. (Maybe they just let their mothers and sisters shop for them).
From the cheap knockoffs on every corner - specially the ones near train stations - to the entire city blocks closed by Porta Portese every week, to the 'regular' stores that are open 'til 7 or 8pm, seven days a week. The supermarkets close on Sundays, but you can still buy sunglasses and a killer pair of stillettoes - with matching bag. In case you get to 8pm on a Sunday night and decide you have 'absolutely nothing to wear' for that pizza and beer on the sofa at home... Obviously.
It's habit forming though - having finally found a pair of shoes that fit, I went on a spree recently and came home with two pairs of trousers, three new tops, a dress and a skirt - all from brand name joints and (MOST unlike the the UK) for just a little over 200 euros. Even I, an avowed 'commando strike' shopper (know your objective, get in and get out again) could get to like this...
I wonder how long it'll be before I emulate my boss, who is American, and who went on a training course in Brussels this week. We heard from her Wednesday. 'How're you enjoying Brussels?' asked the two Belgians in the office, and me. 'It's a really weird place. The clothes stores and everything shut at like 6 o'clock on a Monday and Tuesday. I mean, who does that in this day and age?'
I'm not sure she believed us when we answered, 'the rest of Europe. Actually, everywhere but Italy.' She sounded really dismayed.
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