A Well Kept Man

I drive through countries like Americans drive through states. On Tuesday I drove from Switzerland to Belgium (about 8 hours in the car), which for the geographically challenged enabled me to see three other countries (although the most direct route would have only put me in one more). After leaving Switzerland, I made my way into France but I soon realized I was heading for the motorway which would cost me an arm and a leg (in France you can figure the tolls will cost you about 10 Euro for every 100 km, or around $13 every 60 miles) since I would be in France for about 300 - 400 km so I quickly took to the country roads on the most direct route to the mothership...Germany. The best part about Germany is the Autobahns (which is really just a fancy German word for highway) which in most places aren't limited by speed. Although this guzzles the gas, it allows one to traverse large distances over short time periods (provided you aren't freaking out the whole time about getting run over by a supercharged German sports car).

We spent the long weekend (Friday - Tuesday) in Italy, staying near the coast on the northwestern side of Italy (we stayed in the area of La Spezia, near the Ligurian Sea...I thought it was the Mediterranean Sea, but then again I never really excelled at geography). Our first day was spent hiking in the Cinque Terre, which are a series of small towns perched along the coast of the sea and separated by about five hours of walking. You could take a train between the towns, but apparently exercising was a higher priority. The paths were very narrow and at times a bit precarious, but the views and experience was completely worth the salt crust that formed on my skin as a result of excessive perspiration (I thought for sure I would have to burn my clothes, but thankfully that wasn't the case).

Italy is such a beautiful place and this setting certainly lives up to the images I have conjured in my head. We also took advantage of being close to the sea with our food selection, sampling fresh anchovies (normally I would say ick, but I tried them here and they were amazing!) Also, fresh spaghetti with clams, grilled swordfish, pasta with fish (fish wasn't described, I'm guessing swordfish, but possibly something else), and the freshest calamari and shrimp breaded and fried. The sea was colder than I imagined it would be, but nevertheless I found time to put my legs in a few times.

The only negative aspect of this trip...driving (seriously, I should have learned from the last time, next time I am in Italy, it will be on a Mediterranean cruise with a port of call in Rome or something). I managed to high five a couple cars with my side view mirrors, no significant damage thankfully. I also seemed to find my way down the narrowest road known to man, only to find a dead end and then having to retrace my steps in reverse (did I mention the giant brick wall to my right and cavernous abyss to my left?). At one point, I crested a hill (in the dark, so cresting was unknown to be occurring) only to find the pitch of the road changed from a severely positive gradient to an extremely negative one (I felt like Starsky & Hutch hot on the tail of a bad guy, or maybe it was more Dukes of Hazzard...either way, the Jetta had some good hang time).

We had lots of gelato and pizza as well, so it was a great getaway with our friends Bethany and Andy. Tomorrow, I will regale you will tall tales of a leaning building...

Well, driving on the left hand side of the road is a unique experience. Silly me decided to rent a manual transmission as well (why make things easy??). I'll be the first to admit my standard transmission skills are on par with my singing, dancing, and general movements (I've been described as a gazelle by some, a wounded chicken by most). Thankfully I had Susan (who incidentally has been sacked as of this afternoon and replaced by a British woman whom I shall refer to as Jane) who reminded me every time I asked her for directions that I should drive on the left. This included loud beeping and flashing pictures on the screen.

Alli was also good at reminding me which side of the road to be on as well as the speed limit I was pre-approved to drive (not always the same as the posted limit). I managed to stall the car about a half dozen times or so, usually on a hill or round about which I'm sure caused a few Irish persons to quickly pray to St. Please-move-this-American-out-of-my-way-so-I-don't-attack-them-with-my-shillelagh (the Catholic population is around 90% or so in Ireland, but we won't get into that here). I also managed to avoid hitting things with my car even though at times it seemed certain I would be a proud owner of the Nissan Note (you break it, you bought it).

Driving on the left isn't really all that hard, it just takes some getting used to (passengers apparently need more time to acclimate as they are in the de-facto drivers seat and don't have the same point-of-view as the real driver does). Our car was also very small as gas is expensive and I didn't want to get some gas guzzler, which meant we had the tiniest car I've ever been inside (it's slightly longer than a Mini). By the end of the trip I was ready to get back to a place where people drive on the right, and where the roads are large enough for more than 1.5 cars to drive on safely.

What can I say about driving in Italy, except I STRONGLY discourage it. Take the train, take a bus, fly in and walk, but getting into a car and trying to navigate roundabouts in Italy is not for the faint of heart. Driving in Chicago is a treat compared to the white knuckled, Readiness Level 5, Terrorism watch Red alert that we experienced this weekend.

I knew we were in trouble when we got into the outskirts of Turino and proceeded into a roundabout. Before you think that maybe I'm just a bad driver, hear me out (and please don't talk to my wife, she's not very patient with my driving skills). Picture me going into the roundabout after carefully studying the traffic flow and patterns and such, as well as waiting for an opening that is ample in size to allow me to merge into the traffic circle. I give the car gas and no problems yet as I merge into the circle when all of the sudden a van comes flying into the circle from a different spoke at about 80 km/hr (the speed limit is maybe 50 km/hr in the circle) and nearly T-bones me. Thankfully nobody was hurt, damaged, crunched, impacted, etc., although I think I am no longer welcome back in that traffic circle.

Anyway, we are driving along following the directions of Susan, the lovely computer generated voice in our TomTom ( a lthough I had to turn her down because she says roundabout weird, she says "round-did-about-t"). When you select directions sometimes you can pick options like "avoid toll roads" or "fastest route". Well, when you pick "avoid toll roads" you might end up in the middle of the Saturday market where about 30,000 people are shopping for fruits, veggies, and gelato and somehow they still allow idiots like me to drive through.
In Italy, apparently a red light is more of an opportunity to show how creative you can be while freaking out foreigners. For example, let's say you are approaching an intersection with a dedicated left turn lane that is currently red (but doesn't have any cars in it) and you are in the adjacent lane which is currently green (and is full of cars going slightly slower than the posted speed limit). What do you do if you are an Italian at the end of the line of cars in the green lane?

A. Wait in line, you'll get there soon enough
B. Honk your horn at the people in front of you for not going fast enough
C. Put down your cigarette, finish your third shot of espresso since the last traffic circle, accelerate into the left turn lane, blow through the red light, merge over into the green line in the middle of the intersection hoping a space opens up for your Fiat, and then continue on as if nothing happened

If you guessed A, you are from Minnesota and have never been further away from the Cities than Duluth; B, you've driven in New York, LA, or Chicago, but certainly not Italy; C, well, that's what we saw so that's what I say Italians do all the time (seriously, this happened more often than not).

Quiz #2, pretend you and your Mama-cita have just finished grocery shopping at the market where the crazy American with Swiss license plates almost ran you over and you need to unload your 10 kilos of tomatoes and 5 kilos of ricotta (when you say kilos instead of pounds, it makes me think of watching a bunch of cops talk about the sting they are setting up in the abandoned warehouse down by the river). If you are Italian, what do you do?

A. Park your car in the nearest available parking space on the side of the road out of the flow of traffic
B. Park your car in front of your apartment, in the flow of traffic, with your blinker on indicating you have stopped
C. Park your car in the middle of the road
D. Drive halfway onto the curb, leaving the back-end of your car in traffic

Correct answer: B, C, and D are all correct choices.

As you can see from these limited examples, driving in Italy can be very interesting. Don't even get me started on the fact that within 20km there are 3 separate streets in Turino with the same name and same address (and yes, the third one was our hotel, after driving 10km to the first one, 15 back to the second, and 17 to third). Maybe it's best to leave driving in Italy to those who have had an espresso IV permanently attached.

Oh, and another thing, when crossing the border from Italy into Switzerland, make sure you read the signs. My Italian is rusty, but it seems the word ALTO means stop. Completely. Rolling stops are not advised (unless driving in Italy then they are suggested to protect your momentum).

The normally mild-mannered Swiss borders guards get a little testy when you kind of slow down and say "Bonsoir" and keep moving. It may be ok going the other way, but not from Italy into Switzerland. Example conversation we had with the Italian border guy as I kind of stopped but not really going into Italy: "Where are you going?" Turino. "Turino? Then where?" That's it, we're coming back tomorrow. "Um, ok, Arrivederci". (Apparently nobody goes just to Turino, so it required a follow up question...which we passed)

Example conversation with Swiss border guard after I finally stopped upon the specter of having to spend the rest of my life driving in Italy: Points to sign that says STOP in Italian and French. "Move your car over there." Intense waiting begins with me and Alli feeling like the Von Trapps in the Sound of Music figuring we could just make a run for the Alps. When he comes back about five minutes later, I have my plan figured out of how I'll open the door right as he approaches, knock him down, and speed off in my station wagon. Only before I can attempt my Jason Bourne impersonation on him he hands back our passports and tells us we are set to go (which he grabbed from my hand as I rolled through the stop sign ~ side note, don't think about outrunning the law when they have your identification and you wear white socks with running shoes, they'll find you!).