I’m lucky enough to be planning another trip to Italy with my mom, leaving in a couple of weeks. Last time I was there, I took a lot of photos of beautiful buildings and sculptures. They’re everywhere you look.
The Italian people are a nice bunch. Understandably, those working with tourists every day are not typically too friendly, but if you’re lost or need help with something on the street, Italians will happily help.
Italian women dress beautifully, and seemingly effortlessly. They don’t slog around in jeans and sweatshirts (or flannel pajama pants) like Americans.
The Italians smoke a lot of cigarettes, and they don’t care if you have to breathe in their smoke. (In the U.S., we shame smokers, and wonder why they don’t quit.)
They drive cars like maniacs. You don’t see “Pedestrian Crossing” zones; you dash across quickly at your own risk.
There is hardly a bathroom to be found in Italy. The best plan is to use the restroom at your hotel in the morning, then don’t count on seeing a toilet until you reach your hotel again that evening. This way, if you accidentally run across a restroom while out and about, you’ll be happily surprised. For god’s sake, bring your own toilet paper (there probably won’t be any available even if you pay for the restroom), and don’t count on there being a toilet seat. Just squat. Enough said?
A lot of Latin flies around the Vatican. From what I can tell, no one really understands most of the monuments, tombstones, etc. because they’re all composed in Latin. On the other hand, we went to Mass at St. Peter’s, and parts of the service were spoken in French, German, Spanish, Italian, and English.
I’m looking forward to the beauty and the oddness of it all.