One of the scariest experiences in life has to be taking a taxi from the airport in Rome into the heart of the city. I knew I was in for it when my guy rolls up in a busted up jalopy of a vehicle. I almost told the innocent newbies behind me to go on ahead. They would have thought I was just being friendly. In my heart, however, I knew that would not have been the motivation. I got in and immediately started praying. First there was a little...shall I say...hole or dip or squishy spot??...where my butt fit nicely on the seat. I know this doesn't seem very profound but trust me...later on I was not only praying to God but all the saints that when we did crash that little dippy spot would somehow keep me stuck to my seat so I didn't fly through the window.
The next sign of danger ahead was the fact that right after the first bend in the road he was forced to slam on the brakes and the car started burping and sputtering. That was easily remedied though by stopping in the middle of the road in between big busses and other crazy Italian drivers to give her a little restart. At this point I think I may have even prayed to the Blessed Virgin Mary just in case. Once she was running smoothly again we proceeded to jet out into the chaos of the Roman roads. This is when it got really scary. My lovely Italian grampa guy driver started blinking reeaaaallly slowly. Yep, as in so slowly I thought he was for sure falling asleep. All while driving 100 kilometers an hour and weaving back and forth between the cement guard rail on the left and the various and assorted cars on the right. I kept making noises, like little coughs, to keep this guy awake. I even tried asking him if he was tired but he waved me off like all good Italian men do. I think at this point all that pent up constipation I had been having was quickly going to become unclogged.
After about 15 of the scariest minutes of my life we finally, thank the good Lord, made in to the "off-ramp" area of the highway. At first, I thought this was a good thing. Not so much when we entered that area while still traveling 100 km an hour and weaving back and forth. I really did think that was going to be the end of my short life. He somehow managed to stop the speeding bullet within 2 seconds without slamming into the 40 cars in front of us. Thank God for the butt dip I was sitting in. The humor of it all was that this guy would give the ultimate stare down to the poor people in the cars he almost smashed into. I guess he felt they were in his way and no one should dare to interfere with his driving path.
I honestly thought about asking him to stop the car and let me out to just walk my way to the hotel. That was until we almost ran over a poor clueless woman who was walking on the side of the road. I figured at least I had my seat hole and some metal around me. Stupid woman. Everyone knows not to walk anywhere near the road in Rome. Certain death awaits you. I think by now I had also prayed to Buddah and Ghandi just so all my bases were covered.
After 30 death defying minutes, we made it to the hotel. I have never been more happy to get out of a car. When I handed the guy the agreed upon 50 euro he kinda looked at it like something was missing. YEAH BUDDY...LIKE I'M GONNA GIVE YOU A TIP FOR ALMOST KILLING ME 1,000 TIMES!! I don't think so. Take your grunts somewhere else.
Since I'm writing this you know I am alive. The moral of this story is two-fold. One, if you must get transportation into Ancient Rome from the airport try to take a bus where at least if and when you crash or get crashed into the luggage underneath will be the thing that gets squished and not you. And two, it is the Lord God that will get you somewhere safely. Not Buddah or Ghandi or the Blessed Virgin Mary...so don't get your feathers ruffled...I was only kidding earlier.
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