Driving Italian Style

I had to go through a torturous process to get my Italian driver's license. I paid €600 (approx. $950) for a course that I attended three times (it was in Italian and I would frantically flip through a dictionary in the classroom), and for one hour of behind the wheel with a teacher (silly, it seemed, after 30 years of driving in the US). It is a known fact if you try to get your license without the school representing you, it is very likely that you fail. So I studied for more than 100 hours for the written exam (now offered in English on a computer) and during my one hour behind the wheel, I had to ask the guy to turn the radio down when I was trying to ask a question. But in the end I got the license (even though I was yelled at by the examiner while on the road cause I didn't understand what he was asking in Italian) and now happily zip around town on my Vespa. We also have a motorbike for Andrea and a gas guzzling old Audi which we take on trips around the country. Our next car will be one of those politically correct special gas cars - we'll buy it when I start working full-time.

Here, Ray is hand-washing my Vespa while Andrea looks on. We also bought Ray his own helmet but I have yet to take him out alone. Italian law states he must be 5 years old, but he is very tall so I will wait until the fall when I will have to drive him to his new school.

Oh, and about the hours I put into studying the laws of the road - something of a joke as it seems the none of it applies. I never see a cop on the streets - on foot or in a car - and people will park their cars right in high traffic lanes and go in a bar for an espresso. I also yell out "thank you" to every driver that swerves around me and Ray while we are in a crosswalk. agh.