#49: Panic at the Checkout

I hope you are keeping well and enjoying the winter weather. The temperatures here this week have finally reached a point where I can say that it is hot, and occasionally I am not coping very well. 

These moments of struggle often occur when I get the bright idea to go and do some strenuous task (like filling up our giant bottles at the water fountain) in the very middle of the day. So for sure I am not helping myself.

The heat is making everyone slower and generally less productive though. And I put myself at the top of this list. I can see why whole economies in southern Europe grind to a halt in the summer months - it is simply impossible to operate with energy and efficiency in this heat. The only course of action is to find a spot in the shade and rest for as many hours of the day as possible. 

I've also stopped going into the centre of town, as the cobbled streets and narrow laneways are absolutely baking - and chock full of tourists. All with red faces, and wearing shorts, sandals and backpacks. Most of them are either American or German. When we first came here I couldn't tell them apart, until I heard them speaking. But now, they may as well be different species. 

The Germans are tall and generally fitter, with strong legs from the purposeful strides they take even when sightseeing. They are always in sensible walking shoes or sandals, and usually have a proper brimmed hat on. Despite being large and loud, they are generally never in the way. 

Sometimes I encounter the odd Dutch family which can confuse me as they're quite similar.

Americans, on the other hand, will be the ones in baseball caps. And they will, without exception, point at everything. With a fully outstretched arm. They point at buildings, at trees, into windows, and directly at people walking by. They will often point sideways and nearly decapitate anyone walking by them at that moment, and look perplexed at the withering death stare they receive in response. 

If they aren't pointing, they are leaning on things. 

I read a very interesting article in The Economist a while ago that said one of the things American spies had to learn was how not to lean on things when they are standing. Europeans don't lean. Americans do. And apparently it is a dead giveaway to an undercover agent. Since I read this, I can confirm that it is universally true. At least based on a sample of people in Lucca on any given day. 

Don't worry, I won't let the Australians off the hook. Although you can always hear them before you see them, so you don't ever really need to do a visual evaluation. It's probably because I'm more sensitive to the accent, given that we don't actually hear it that much these days in day-to-day life. 

Most of the Australians I see around Lucca are channeling coastal chic vibes. Whole families will generally be decked out in head to toe white linen, like they are on their way to a beach photoshoot. If you feel momentarily like you've been transported from Lucca to Noosa or Byron Bay, it is usually because you're in the presence of Australian tourists. 

I've spoken in the past about Italian supermarkets, and how much I love them. However there is one part of the grocery experience that leaves a bit to be desired. 

Checkouts in Italy are generally still manned by actual humans. Italians are absolutely not interested in scanning their items themselves. Esselunga has a few self checkouts available, but they will be completely empty even when the lines for the regular checkouts are 10+ deep. 

The attendants at these checkouts are masters of scanning items, but they do not do any bagging. You must do this yourself. 

So what do you get when you combine a seasoned professional scanner of items, with an absolute dunce at putting the items in the bags? Chaos. And almost everyone is a dunce at bagging. 

The experience is not far short of having all your items thrown directly at you as you stand there with your reusable bags in a complete panic, trying not to crush your eggs by putting a watermelon on top. When they are done scanning (in about 12 seconds) they will shout the total price at you immediately. As soon as you have paid, they move onto their next victim, and you end up trying not to accidentally pack their items with yours. 

When I first came here, I started to try and arrange my items on the conveyor belt in order of weight and size - so that at least as they came rocketing out the other side I could kind of just throw them in the bags. This helped a bit, but not a lot.

So then I started watching other people. How were they coping? Well, it turns out that the trick is to remember the saying that "you can't rush an Italian". I realised that the older shoppers in particular would let all their items come through, without even trying to bag as they went. Once everything was scanned, they would calmly pack everything as slowly as they liked. They delayed even acknowledging that they had to pay for the items until they had everything neatly bagged up. 

By not paying, the checkout attendant could not move onto the next customer. And so nonno or nonna, having defeated the insane system, would smile smugly back at the rest of us panicked and harried shoppers and stroll off with their items packed perfectly in their little shopping buggy. 

I tried it this morning, and aside from the huge adrenaline spike I experienced when I wilfully ignored the first request to pay, it worked like a dream.

All my love!