Florence

For a nice Canadian like yours truly, Italy can be a little tough to deal with.  It seems that its basic state is a low level of chaos.  Italians do what they want until they get pushed back into conformity, their tempers flare easily, and they talk loudly and boisterously, and animatedly (especially with their hands). I think this kind of living necessitates a level of emotional engagement that I, as a mere observer and traveller, don't particularly want to rise to.  It reminds me a little of Israel, where to get any service at all, one must engage in a minature battle to hold the ground you have claimed for yourself, and constantly fight to move forward towards the person who's going to help you.

Shining examples of this is the stereotypical Italian driver, and by extension, the pedestrian.  The Italian driver (especially of motorcycles and scooters) makes other drivers know that they have to worry about him or her.  They are agressive, unpredictable and unrelenting.  They weave in and out of traffic, taking corners at high speed, and quite generally make life of the pedestrian interesting to say the least!  In Italy, the pedestrian crossing a road must never assume a driver will stop.  One must time a road crossing to make sure not only that there are no cars (motorcycles/scooters) approaching, but also that none will just appear out of nowhere and attack.  Which brings us to Jaywalking.  While in Eastern Europe, Jaywalking is a no-no, and is almost never seen (especially by older people), in Italy, it is a spectator sport (with some of the onlookers wondering if they get to witness a big splat today or not).  Jaywalking is practiced liberally and enthusiastically. 

Another example is what goes on in the Italian trains.  Being summer and high tourist season, the trains are generally packed, and probably overbooked.  So what happens?  Well, getting to your seat (if you have a reservation) can take up to 10 or 15 minutes because the aisle is jammed with people who have just sat down wherever they wanted and now must move out of the way for the people who have that seat.  And then, there are the people who have already been kicked out of one seat and move to another, and have to move again at the next stop when the owner of the new seat comes aboard.  It's a game of musical chairs at almost every stop, except there's no music, and usually everyone ends up with a chair (though not always). 

However, as a mild-mannered Canadian, it takes an effort to counteract our conditioned niceness, which I find quite exhausting and unbecoming by the end of a day of sightseeing, especially when fighting the crowds.  Alas, I probably won't return to Italy in the summertime.