They were women dressed in lederhosen. And dancing in a circle in the dark. On the path around the Christmas Market, waving lanterns, sporting braids…jolly smiles slapped on their faces.
But this was Italy. Why were they wearing lederhosen?
I might have pondered this longer if I hadn’t already been in far north Italy for at least a year by this time, and, well… I’d come to accept that I was living in a place that took its directions more from its Austro-Hungarian past, and less from the Italian ringmaster that the rest of the country was subject to.