Ordeals Italiano

On planet Earth, the word ‘Travel’ invariably means the transport of people or objects from one location in space to another, because an earthling’s perception of time travel is remarkably lousy. The primitive means of air travel on this tiny unregarded blue-green planet are remarkably lousy too. As a result, during my recent explorations of the western hemisphere of this planet, I have had to contend with intense physical and mental distress.

For instance, during my recent trip to Italy, the waiting times in all airports were illogically high and the queues for the security checks extended infinitely, into unexplored hyper-space. Finally, when the elaborate procedures drew to a close, most passengers were radiant with exaltation. But I was not, owing to the fact that I hailed from a country which entitled me to an EBSC - Extra Bonus Security Check! And to top it all I was on a two pit-stop strategy.

Well, I landed in Italy.

Here’s what the Encyclopaedia Galactica has to say about Italy. "Italy, officially the Italian Republic or Repubblica Italiana, is a rather obscure and unsung southern European country, hated by French football fans". The Hitchhikers’ Guide to the Galaxy also mentions Italy. It says "Who hates Italy? Everyone likes pizza". In Italy, the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy sells rather better than the Encyclopaedia Galactica.

Tourists seem to adore the sites, the quaint shops, the tasty pastas and the amicable Italian locals. But they are completely ignorant of the amount of bureaucratic paper shuffling the Italians and those who chose to live in Italy have to endure.

I chose to live here for two months and began the treacherous process of getting a Permesso di Soggiorno (permission to stay), made even more treacherous by the sheer obtuseness of the company that I work for. I finally got one, but only after multiple trips to the local immigration office, long queues and unintelligible abuses from half-witted immigration officials.

So, if you are ever destined, compelled or obliged to live in Italy for more than eight days, and you work for some sleaze-ball software company, and you do not possess the ability to endure delay or provocation without becoming antagonized, I suggest you carry with you an object that can be used to deliver heavy blows, preferably a hammer. A babel fish would come in very handy too, because Italiano is the only language spoken in this part of the world. Two months, and I am yet to encounter an Italian who can pronounce a single word right in English.

But all said and done, one cannot help but be impressed by the Italian cuisine, fashion, luxury sports cars and motorcycles, as well as the beautiful monuments, lakes and mountains, not to mention, the warmth and passion of the Italian people. It is almost time for me to return home, and I have to admit that despite frequent misadventures and a few near-calamities I am certainly going to have fond memories of the place.

Peace.
AMD