The day I announced to Italy that I have arrived.

In the mean time we have found another office to enter Rome, and we were late - Sara's mum and I. So there was already 119 people in line. Or "in line" is maybe bit misguiding, lets just say there was 119 people close to the entrance of the door. Number 9 of these were a man which had announced the hood of a parked car as his office, and giving him self the honour of being the one how gave out numbers to people who show up to stand in line. we were there at eight, the office opens at nine, so numbers sound like at pretty good idea to us - but we pushed all in front just in case his numbers was just numbers :-D We heard (Sara's mum Dea also understood) that number guy was a employee of a company, who rents out apartments, and each morning he had to come to the office to get the contracts registered. He said that he had seen people literally fight to come first in line, so now he came each morning to make numbers and take care that they were given out to people.. (And maybe also because its probably a good place to meed new tenants for their apartments (but that's just my theory))

Anyway to my big surprise it actually worked, the self appointed leader was allowed to dictate the order of which people were allowed to enter. and within only 15 min (9.15) we were in, and ready to get another more official number from a machine and a form which I should register my name and address ect.

It was a very impressing number system they had, I am sure that the Asterix creator could have made a long scene in his cartoons about this. The numbers seemed to arrive in random, both 136 and 132 came before my 134, and instead of making the waiting more relaxed, it made all the people very uneasy, it should be noted that most of these people didn't speak much Italian, and didn't understand what was happening. Luckily they had borrowed the butler from the Adams family to take care of business, he stood as a big tower and took care of two very important things, he read out loud the numbers which was written in very nice calming red letters on the screen, and took care of making a corridor through the masses of uneasy foreigners (non of the two things really succeeded)

At 10.30 we was allowed in, and a man (only speaking Italian) checked my papers, and told a very funny story about a Romanian (A person from Romania) which had great difficulties in figuring out the difference between being Romanian (A person from Romania) and from Rome - sadly I did not understand the joke, either because it wasn't funny or for my lacking Italian abilities.

Anyway... I received my codice fiscale.