– There are far more people with dreads here than I’d anticipated there being anywhere outside of a Rastafarian convention.
– There are quite a few weird parallels with China: fakes being sold laid out on the ground, tons of cheesy kiosks selling crap…and I even saw a guy spit on the street today! But just the one.
– I can’t speak Italian. At all. I don’t know why this is surprising, but it just is.
– There are vintage stores around practically every corner. It’s amay-zing.
– Things seem cheap even though when you get home and do the conversion rate you find that really HOLY CRAP I SPENT HOW MUCH?!? but because everything is made of the highest quality materials and it’s like, “Oh my grandpa handmade that this morning with tools from the 1700’s” it feels like you get a lot of bang for your buck.
– THE FOOOD. Holy shit. This place has the best food EVER. I’m hungry. I’m gonna go eat something.
UPDATE: I totally forgot, the other thing that really gets me is how often people screw up their numbers. Someone told me she could take fifty off a bag, but then she actually meant five; the lady at the shipping company said it would cost eight-hundred to ship my package home, but meant eighty; the man today at the flea market told me my shirt was twenty-five then pointed to the price tag – which said fifteen. Huh.