Yesterday our group took a bus to Assisi. Our driver was Italian. It took us nearly four hours to get to Assisi. Understandable, what with driving through maountain ranges and all. Plus it was a big bus, hard to maneuver on those tight curves.
Why then, we all wondered, did it take only two hours to return to Rome that night?
Because our driver drove like a frickin' lunatic, that's why. Either he had a hot date or there was a soccer game on he couldn't miss. Whater the reason there were a few times I thought the end might be near.
That always happens in this country. Itàs no wonder there have been so many great Italian racecar drivers. They must all start training for the job before they get their learners' permits. On the A-1 people rountinely drive at 90 mph. Worse, they routinely tailgate at 90 mph. And I'm not talking slick young men here. I'm talking moms with babies in car seats.
It's one of the first things I learned in Italy: stay to the right. The far, far right. For God's sake stay out of the left lane unless you have a serious death wish.
On the plus side, now that the media have mostly flown the coop there's a lot more room to maneuver here. And they've taken down the media tents that were cluttering up our view of St Peter's. Last night we were actually able to stand ont eh upper balcony and admire Michaelangelo's gorgeous dome. Also on the plus side, it has stopped raining, the sun is shining, it's even warmed up a bit. At last I have the right clothes.
My daughter is still laid up with whatever is wrong with her foot. I see a trip to the orthopedist in her near future. LIke, as soon as we get back.
Which is tomorrow, alas.