Near the Garibaldi station in Naples, on the Via Galileo Ferraris, is a church with a cross illuminated in bright neon. Most are in their 40s, and some in their 50s. They are discreet, silent and holding cheap leather clutch bags. One is dressed in a prim shirt and trousers, with thick black-rimmed glasses, looking like a student on the town in search of a cheap eat.
We pass the HQ of Italian energy company Enel. A long brick wall and an entrance gate, where a smart car is parked. Inside is a blonde transexual looking at herself in the rear-view mirror. Short, with curly brown hair, she speaks Romanian with an Italian accent and, at first glance, would pass for a typical Moldavian housewife.
But her business involves almost daily negotiations with the prostitutes and pimps of the Naples underground. We drive to the ex-industrial core of the city - now empty lots, car parks and new office buildings, vacated at night. Here the women sit on plastic chairs at a distance of 50 to metres from one another, occupying a corner, a bend in the road, or a lay-by. Every girl has black heels with a platform toe, augmenting both height and poise. This is the signature accessory of east European prostitutes in Italy and Spain.
A Ukrainian woman from Donetsk waves from over the four-lane road to a Romanian on the other side. The blonde Ukrainian is in a short black dress, which clasp the thighs well above the knee, her face layered in mascara. She is drinking a blue energy drink from a plastic bottle. She has been working the street outside a derelict Italian warehouse for five years. Carmen is clutching a wad of Primitex condoms.
The two women talk about paperwork. How to stay in Italy. On the other side of the road is Nicoleta [not her real name], hitting 25 years of age - from Calarasi, southwest Romania. She has a brown Louis Vuitton-esque bag, push-up bra and is looking to buy a flat in her hometown. Nicoleta wants to send her mother some presents.
