Here is a list of abnormal, shocking, Italian experiences that we had while traveling from Varese to Venice on our way to Athens Greece (step by step):

1. I stopped at my local gas station which in the 6 years that I have been here has never repaired the gas loading gun trigger lock, i.e. you have to keep pressing the trigger, waiting for your tank to fill up, while standing with your nose right at the path of the ascending gas fumes. I also wanted to check my car tire pressure but, as is often the case in this country, something had gotten worse instead of getting better: the pump gauge had been changed to one that only shows "bar" instead of "bar" and "psi". Bottomline, I had to access the Internet on my phone inorder to do the conversion and thus complete my simple task (did I mention that the Italian super-expensive HDMA based mobile link still works at GPRS like speeds?)

2. On our way to Venice I had to deal with the usual very badly mannered and extremely impatient Italian drivers

3. When my Garmin hit a patch of uncharted territory (new road) I had to deal with the extremely scarce and badly placed/designed Italian road signs (e.g. not easy to find the ferry station that takes you from the mainland to Venice's Lido).

4. Exiting the high-way we had to pay tolls using a machine that accepts change and banknotes and gives change. All was fine until I tried to get the change ; The machine, badly meaintained, had access to its returned change bay semi-blocked by a non-fully sliding plastic cover. Result was you had to insert just the top half of your fingers in and try to slide the coins out. I dropped a couple of coins...

5. Upon arriving at the Ferry station we had to pay 23 Euros for passage of a car and two adults for a 20 minute trip. We were told to go queue up on lane 4; problem was, there were plenty of lanes and no signs indicating numbers whatsover. We later found out that lanes were marked by numbers painted on the asphalt in the front of the lanes (instead of in the back) and obvioulsy the cars already there were parked ontop of these numbers - smart! I however know why this completely retarded system has survived. Italians simply go and take the lane they want regardless of what their ticket says. You see, once you pay and pass the checkpoint nobody checks your ticket or cares whether you have queued up in the right lane.

6. Funny thing is that we arrived there at 10pm and we found out that the next ferry was to leave one hour later. Certainly infrequent the service for such an important line and it was only 10pm. On the other hand 10pm is considered really late in Italy; still, I understand that for rural areas but the main line from mainland to Venice? Still, you guys wanna do it like that and leave me waiting for an hour? Fine, but at least give me some basic services! Toilets were there and they had a sign on their door that said "open", yet they were very locked. We asked the guy at the ticket booth (an immigrant by the way because lil princes don't work afetr 5pm, they're home watching anti-immigrant propaganda on their fruitcake Italian TV channels) and he told us that the Toilets do not work "at this time". I responded that, however, there were still plenty of people using the ferry at this time, but he did not know what to say. I went and took a piss in the Venetian canal secretly fantasizing that my piss somehow ended up in some Italian famiy's tabletop bottle of water. Oh, I forgot, there was also no bar, no water to drink and no vending machine. Fuck you tourists! Fuck you strangers! Fuck you travellers!

7. We finally entered the ferry. When you are in, the first thing you see from inside the car is a huge sign that says: "passengers are strictly prohibited to remain in the cars during the trip". Still, there was only a couple that actually did that and even more shockingly no crew tried to enforce this important safety requirement. Very Italian! Weird aside: the ferry was "made in Greece".

8. We arrived at the hotel and were greeted by a guy who was, again, not Italian, very new at his job (his response to 4 out of about 5 questions I made was "I am not sure" or "I don't know") and kinda indifferent on top. Very unprofesional as well but they probably pay him with food, so what can you expect? Never informed us that we need to use a small lil locker-like key in order to make the room's electricity work (there was no light to see what was there when you opened the door, let alone a tiny keyhole, and the light needed the key in that keyhole in orfder to work; we're talking about a regular catch-22 here. I was able to figure it out in 20-30 seconds which is way-way too long for two very tired people hauling a lot of luggage and trying to enter their much needed hotel room. He also forgot to give us the room safe's key (yeah, we're talking really hi-tek here) and I had to go back down and get it.

9. When I was at the reception in order to get the safe's key I used to the opportunity to also give the guy my passport that I could not find upon arrival (had falled deeper than I expected in my bacpack). The guy took the passport and went to make a photocopy, while he was in, and just 2-3 seconds before he came back out, a typical lil Italian fuck arrived at the reception. He stood right to the left of me and when the guy was out, without any preample or even having looked at me and really-really instantaneously, he says "gimme the key to room XXX". I turn around, give him the look, and tell him "excuse me but I am not finished yet". He looks at me like I have just offended his mother, does not say a word, and then picks up the key that the immigrant pussy-receptionist (a guy actually) has already gotten for him. This lil piece of Italian shit should become a human public toilet.

10. I then ask receptionist the killer question: "where can we go have somthing to eat and maybe have a couple of drinks". "But it is midnight!" the pussy-fuck-recepto-shit responds shocked. OK, we are in Venice, right? And not only that, but it is also Friday night, and you are telling me, sounding shocked as well, that it is too late to find some goddamn bread to put in my fucking mouth and some piss-fuck alcohol to drown it down with? Fuck you and your momma too. Bottomline is I am in this piss-shit Ialian "4-star" hotel room, hungry like a dog, writing this shit. The goddam mini-bar only has drinks!

11. Have you ever seen a hotel closet with no handle? The kind of closet that when closed, is imposible to open unless you have something to insert into its keyhole and try and pull the door out? Well, I've seen this in Italy twice. The second time was in this very room which is not bad by Italian standards (e.g. it got a working heating system and a full package on cable TV as well as a balcony that overlooks the Venetian canal), yet the closet thing makes me feel this weird ominous Italian trepidation.

12. I took a break writing this and went to take a shit in the well equipped, clean bathroom. This is when I realized another big problem of this hotel room. The batheroom is kinda oblong and not wide at all, yet they have actually placed the toilet facing the wall across the bathroom's width. The result is that you're taking a shit with a wall literally in your face.

13. Bad electrical connections for the cable box (move the curtain that is right on top and it will disconnect), non-working TV remote (you have to turn on the TV using the button on the TV)

14. Russo Palace Hotel (http://www.russopalacehotel.com/) has a web site designed in a typically Italian (i.e. unethical) way. The site is deliberately designed to mislead potential customers into thinking that the advertised spa and massage parlor are part of the hotel. In fact the place is a good 15 minutes walk away. And I was wondering why the price was so good...

15. The cleaning lady threw away a plastic bag with two FULL bottles of listerine just because it was right next to the garbage bin in a cramped bathroom. Shit for brains!

16. I wanted to have flowers waiting in our room for Lica when we got back from Venice centre tonight but, a)the lazy receptionist was unwilling to make it happen (is it difficult?) and b) after my insistence she told me that at 1:30pm the flower shop was closed because they do not work Sunday afternoon. Jesus, in all countries in the world they deliver flowers 24/7: in Italy, somehow, everything becomes difficult and somehow loses its beauty - lazy people, bad attitudes, bad energy.

17. On this computer you have to press Shift-F12 (instead of CTRL-S) in order to save the file you're working on. Fuck you Italy! Only 3 more days on this fucking land...