Eternal closing time

Here’s the thing about Italy: everything is closed, all the time. You want to go to the supermarket and get some dinner? CLOSED. Doesn’t seem to matter that it’s 5:00 p.m. and they’re losing tons of money by closing so early. Or maybe you want to go to the clothing store and buy some socks? No can do. CLOSED. Even though it’s only 3:00 p.m. and there are tons of people milling about, willing to buy stuff.

It’s kind of driving me insane. I went to an Internet café in Florence and had to give the receptionist my driver’s license as a deposit to use the computer. Naturally, the café was closing in five minutes, so I quickly checked my email, paid and ran out, leaving my I.D. behind in the process. I figured no big deal, I’ll stop by and pick it up tomorrow. But at 10:30 a.m. the next day, as I as was rushing to get to the train station by 11:00, I stopped by the Internet café and of course, it was closed. Staring at the front door for five minutes, I searched for a non-existent store hours sign and thought about how annoying it’s going be to have to get a new license. I eventually accepted the fact that pressing my forehead against the window was not going to magically open the store and I headed in the direction of the train station. Luckily, as I was huffing and puffing my way across the main bridge in Florence, I ran into my Australian friend, Xanthe, who I’d met at a hostel in Venice. I immediately started bitching about the internet café and my lost I.D. so she offered to stop by the café later on, retrieve my I.D. and mail it to Minnesota. Hopefully this will happen.

Italy is really awesome and I’m having a fantastic time in Rome, but the hours kept in this town are ridiculous. I can confidently say that nothing here is open longer than two or three hours at a time. It’s sort of killing me. I’m not sure how people manage to get things done, but somehow they do.