Have you got an hour to kill and wish to test your powers of endurance? Boy , have I just got the place for you!

Welcome to public service hell, aka, the Almafi Post office.
On the face of it the whole process shouldn't have been a big deal.
Julia had purchased a small cardboard box from the local Post Office, stuffed it full of whatever to send home by mail, however when she went to post same on Monday morning at the Pergine Valdarno, she was put off by the line of pensioners all awaiting their Monday cash hand outs from their friendly Post Office, so she decided to mail the box when we reached Amalfi.
The drama started the minute she walked through the front door. The deal is that there is a yellow ticket dispensing machine located near the entrance. You press the appropriate button (yellow for a mail related issue or green for all others matters) then you wait until your number pops up on an electronic board.
The problem here was that the machine had a mind of its own. Not only did this sucker pump out allocation numbers in totally random fashion , but also allocated these numbers to non existent counters .
Confusion reigned in abundance. Actually without putting too finer point on it, the scene that confronted Julia was one of total mayhem .
Then we get onto the three counter staff. Now this is a real Italian thing you have to get your head around. What you have to understand is that the number of staff bears no relation to the number of workers who are actually working. If there's half a dozen staff and only one actually serving the public, then that's it, end of story. There's simply no point getting bitter and twisted about this matter as there is nothing you can do about it. 
Maybe thirty minutes on and Julia is finally getting served by an old guy who, 1) can't speak English, 2) doesn't have a clue what he's doing, 3) is a computer illiterate and 4) is more interested in sharpening what he thinks is a pencil (which in fact is a biro pen) rather than addressing the issue at hand.
Without a word of a lie it took this space cadet fully thirty minutes to weigh and price the box. At one stage I actually thought Julia was about to leap, over the counter and do the job herself.
I could just about see the steam coming out of her ears.
And when it was all said and done, this old guy hobbled out the front door and stuck our parcel directly into the pannier bag of the Post Office motorcycle.
It's just a pity that this particular bike was only making local deliveries.
You have to laugh.

Cheers