Aaaargh!

I love Italy.  I really, really do.  But, after spending a day or two in Germany, I just want to slap Every. Single. Italian in this hotel.

Yes, they have wifi, but actually getting it requires the patience of a saint.  The lovely little twit at the counter who wrote down my username & password used all kinds of lovely but undecipherable girly squiggles that made her handwriting impossible to read.  Eventually, after three trips back to the front desk, with much eye-rolling and drama-queen sighing, a bloke turned on the receipt printer and printed out, in lovely, legible courier, a new username and password.

Hooray!  I'm online.  Then their cheapass modem needs a reboot.  All this and it's only 6.30 am.  I know it's 6.30 am 'cos the damn church bell is right outside my freaking window!  So, I 'm awake and have been since it started ringing at 5am but breakfast isn't on till 7am... Spleen vented, rant over...