One blustery spring morning a few years ago I was strolling through Milan’s art district Brera. It happened to be the third Sunday of the month, and the market stalls were out on the streets selling their wares. I wasn’t looking for anything in particular but that’s usually when you stumble upon something special.   In a damp cardboard box on an antiques stand were a number of dog-eared Panini albums, about 30 in total. Each of them had been painstakingly completed by the man on the stall. He wanted €50 for the set, a price I considered to be a bargain considering the sentimental value they might have held. So we shook hands and I spent a train ride back to Rome that…