Swanning round Italy at the minute on some EuCLUTS (the European Committee of Leadership in Umbrella Technology and Sophistication) beano. Fostering relations, networking, learning, blah blah blah justification, justification, justification, la dolce vita, don't tell the members, stick it on expenses etc etc etc.
Ooops, ignore that last bit. I find myself wondering why computers don't have a delete key, but then I have often pondered that one. Hector tells me they do, and often encourages me to use it, but I can never find it.
Anyway, back to Milan. I could give you a list of meetings I have had with Italian umbrella chiefs but I am sure you would much rather hear about my meal plan. Today at lunch I will be sharing the Italian equivalent of a Greggs steak bake with "Il chavo", the great Italian working class, at a factory producing brollies for one of Milan's fine fashion emporiums. Then this evening I shall be fine dining with some rich bastards who own said boutiques, and no doubt joking about my earlier dining experience with their oppressed workforce.
In many ways, my itinerary is a perfect metaphor for the path of New Labour ideals contained in one day. And I am right with that.
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