Well, yesterday “officially” classifies as ONE of those days…

Had to go back up to Riposto, IT on a pickup run for some stuff, so got to ‘play’ in rush hour traffic Italian style. I’m STILL tryin to get the seat cushion out of my ass… Let’s just say it was exciting and leave it at that… And that was just the trip over!!!

So, I finally get up there, pick up the stuff I need to get, and have to come back the other way in MORE rush hour traffic, except that I now have a passenger. Now the speed limit is 60 kph (bout 35 mph), I was running 110 and getting passed by grannies driving 30 year old Fiats, so I picked up the pace to about 130 to stay with the flow…

The old man in front of me is driving about 120, half in his lane, half on the shoulder, so I decide to pass- Now I’m driving a 1.4L turbo diesel (0-60 in hours), so I down shift, rev the hell out of it and get a running start at him, turn on the blinker, move over a half a lane (like a good Italian) and start passing him… kinda, sorta…

So I get about even with his front door, and I see a pair of headlights and a turn signal in my mirror, and they AREN’T slowing down… At this point I floor that little TDI (lot of good THAT did) and ease over a little closer to the old man and a Mercedes comes blowing by at probably 200 kph, close enough that I hear a ‘ting’ as his mirror hits mine!!!

At the SAME time, the Merc is being passed by a biker (no helmet, and I ‘think’ shorts on) and HE’s running probably 250 kph (and, OBTW, there is a BUS in the oncoming lane now)…

And that SOB is hogging the center line… I’m figuring we’re ALL gonna die momentarily, and I sure as hell will NOT have clean shorts on…

And we all manage to miss each other… How I have NO @#&( clue!

So I finally get back to the ‘freeway’, get back over to roughly where I’m going, and back on the side roads that I “know” from years of experience, and I come up over the railroad tracks, only to meet an Italian version of an 18 wheeler on MY side of the road and half in the ditch (this IS a side road), passing another 18 wheeler… I just turned right onto the train tracks, at that point I figured what the hell… train, 18 wheeler, it doesn’t matter, I won’t survive either one…

I finally get back to the base, and I realize the guy riding with me hasn’t said a word in, oh probably an hour… I look over and he literally has his eyes closed and is gripping the side of the seat and the door handle with a death grip. I poke him and tell him we made it, and he looks over at me and says, “YOU are @#&* CRAZY!” and he gets out of the car an walks away.

Not even a thank you for the ride… sigh… some people…

I’m thinking wine with breakfast is not necessarily a bad idea… (maybe a gallon or two to start the day)