The Driving Olympics: France, Italy, Spain

I've mentioned how friendly people were to us in the regions we've lived in France, Spain, and now here in Italy as well. Here's an example of something that just happened. On one of the long walks from the house in Morruzze into the town post office in Morre, Jim returned home, realizing only then that he'd lost his wallet along the way. To save time because the post office would soon be closing, he took the car and drove off in hope of finding it. 

Today's Painting

Pardon My Eye by Janet Strayer janetstrayerart.com

Nearly everyone with a driver's license knows that awful feeling: "oh no, my credit-card, license, insurance card, the cash I've just withdrawn for the week!" Well, compound that feeling by a factor of 10 in a foreign country. I stayed home waiting for the bad news. About 10 minutes later, a young man knocked on the door to our house with a wallet he'd found... YES!. He said he'd looked inside to find the ID and that neighboring local folk had told him where to find us. Wow! A long story ensued which had me at a  linguistic disadvantage, not really understanding most of it and feeling (also gesticulating) like Lucille Ball in one of her antic displays of mock-competence. I did manage to thank him with  gracie mille  a million times over and to get his name and where he lived. Jim subsequently went personally to thank him.

So, why with all this good will and decency that we'd encountered do Italians turn into blood-lusting road-warriors once they take the driver's seat of a car? That white line in the middle of the road means nothing! And it's not just the Italians. The French are maniacs at beating you to a parking space, cutting you off, and tailgating you mercilessly until you're sure they'll floor it and drive right over you! Not a second's indecision from you at a stop-sign or roundabout is tolerated. As for the Spanish, Caramba, they much preferred swerving into your lane while you still inhabited it than when it was clear. Even the trucks! And the horns blasting if you didn't run the red light. Even being a pedestrian is running a risk.

Today's Thought

The car has become the carapace, the protective and aggressive shell, of urban and suburban man.             Marshall McLuhan, Understanding Media

Me taking a picture of you driving

So, why? Is it being encased in metal armor that makes us Darth Vaders ? Is it an avatar takeover that turns us into Mad Maxes? Is it the anonymity and easy-disappearance of faces on the road that makes us unaccountable to each other?  Or the routine stuckness in bad traffic that finally gets us to lunge for the throttle?

I haven't been driving for 8 months since my injury. So, I say all this from the distance of the passenger seat. But then, I recall that I, too, have gotten possessed behind the wheel. In fact, I think I learned to curse really well behind the wheel of a car.

I closing, I want to mention that, aside from the drives, the roads are really good across the Europe we've travelled (both the toll and the free kind). The road-winner is Spain, perhaps surprisingly: well-maintained, wide-enough lanes, well-marked exits and entrances (though some rather unusual in their angles). Silver goes to France and Bronze to Italy (narrow lanes, etc.).