Italian life.

The heading for this post  has to be the apocryphal message above the mighty stone portal of Hades.

ABANDON HOPE ALL YE WHO ENTER HERE 

This terrifying message..carved in a long lost time zone must have been lifted by Satans stonemason from above the doorway of every Post Office in Italy.

This is another,occasional missive from an Englishman living in and enjoying life in this wonderful country.

Please visit this wonderful place for all of the great things it has to offer...History..food..wine..beautiful scenery..skiing..beaches..the Italians..architecture to blow you away..food..wine...oops..  done that..but you must have the picture by now..But there is a serious piece of advice you must heed.

It is common among tourists to send a post card home to tell everyone about the wonderful time you are having on your vacation..mainly just to p8ss them off

.

Cards are written..usually on a beach or a waterside restaurant..and the they  need to be posted.

You will need some stamps...from a post office..and now you begin to squander those precious years of your life..in a queue in an Italian Post Office.

Two days ago I had to visit one of these places that suck life from human beings.I had a single sheet of paper,in a small envelope..the usual transaction really..

I entered the local village Post Office..There were two tellers behind the counter..each had a customer...twenty minutes later they still had the same customers....thirty minutes later they were still there..I only wanted a single stamp.

.no stamp dispensers..

forty minutes later the two customers were still there. In the meantime a small mountain of sheets of paper had been built up..  every sheet was stamped...loudly... at least six times..on both sides..each stamp was signed ..and then countersigned  by both client and teller...then clutching this section of a small forest the tellers disappeared into the back room to duplicate all of the sheets of paper...which then had to be stamped and signed..all over again..fifty minutes later...  in a now absolutely packed small Post Office.. the transaction drew to a close. Each party now clutched over twenty pieces of paper..all duly stamped and signed..they all seemed very pleased.

My stamp buying took twenty seconds..forget the post cards folks..or extend the holiday.

The big question  is  WHO TH F8CK LOOKS AT ALL OF THOSE PIECES OF PAPER.........

Next  The Plumber and the bathroom..