I’m pretty sure there’s no law in Italy that says you have to stop at every gelato shop, but I didn’t want to take any chances.
And gelato was not the only enticement—check out this sign:
Between the food, sculptures, fountains, paintings, and cathedrals, we kept Uber drivers very busy. Why did we not rent a car, you ask? Ah. You haven’t been to Italy if you have to ask that. The answer is: Because we value our lives.
Before going to Italy I’ve always said, “I don’t speak Italian but I drive Italian.” This was just based on what I’d heard. But believe me, I was dead wrong. There is no way I drive like the Italians.
The entire population has some kind of Reflex Gene that helps them avoid collisions (though we did see two). They drive a zillion miles an hour, cutting over any lane or line they like, and maintain a distance of approximately one inch of space from the next car.
I’m thinking every driver in Italy has disabled the beeping noise many cars have, where it alerts you if your car is too close to another object. Otherwise you’d hear nothing but ding, ding, ding, ding on every street! Nicole snapped this photo:While eating at an outdoor café Richie was facing the traffic, and said there should have been at least five fatalities, just in the time it took us to have lunch.
St. Bob thinks someone should check people’s blood pressure at the beginning of a ride and then at the end.
And yet, they zoom along with their Italian Reflex Genes. In fact, it wouldn’t surprise me if traffic cops here in the U.S. give a special pass to Italians. I can just hear it—
“Wait—your last name is Rosetti? You Italian? Okay then, have a good day.”
Stay safely inside and buy my books! Christmas is coming and a perfect gift for anyone, young or old, is ALittle Christmas Prayer.