All Roads Lead to Rome?
You know the old saying, ‘All roads lead to Rome’?
My friends, I hate to break it to you, but this has to be the overstatement of the century.
It couldn’t be further from the truth.
The one thing I learned when I traveled to Rome, other than driving there was taking your life in your hands, is that driving in Rome is a lesson in futility.
Romans do not believe in street signs.
Don’t believe me? Let me share a little story about what happened when we drove to Rome. And maybe, just maybe, I will convince you.
In 2004, when the pseudo-hubs and I traveled to Italy for our two-week, world-wind tour of a lifetime, I did all the planning. From soup to nuts. I crossed every I, dotted every T, you get the point.
I set up the car rental, train reservations, hotel reservations, and planned the itinerary. Did everything for our all-out-assault on Italy - seven areas in two weeks.
It was going swimmingly - all without a hitch. The trains, the driving, reading the maps and the road signs, all just great.
Until we left for Rome, that is.
Now, the one that plans, also needs to be the one to take full responsibility when things get all effed up, which happened to me.
We left Tuscany en route to Rome by car a bit later than we had planned, due to the marvelous time we were having trolling about the Chianti countryside.
With our Michelin map as our guide, we made our way to the autostrada and set our SmartCar on high-speed-autopilot, due South, 130 kph.
We stopped to refuel at a gas station about ten miles outside of the first exits for Rome.
Pseudo-hubs turned to me as he climbed back into the car and said “Ok, where to from here?”
I started to panic and began riffling through ‘my papers’. Beads of sweat started to appear on my forehead and I began to realize I had no stinking idea.
How could that be? How could it be that I meticulously planned every little detail, except for the driving directions to the parking garage in Rome?
I had the address. I guess that was something.
Did I somehow imagine that I would magically know what exit to get off and that since we were in Rome, the Lord Jesus himself would somehow miraculously guide us to the parking garage?
I really don’t know what I was thinking, but it was clear I had screwed up. I had no idea how to get there. No detailed map of Rome, no directions. Nada.
At this point I turned to Chris to give him the good news.
“Uh, I dunno. I guess I was kinda focused on all the other difficult connections we had to maneuver in the earlier part of the trip.” I said.
Chris, being the unusually calm and patient one, was suddenly very out of character.
I little tantrum ensued. And then I got defensive. And then it was ON.
After we both calmed down, we got back on the autostrada and said our prayers. I generally have an innate sense of direction, so I was confident we would be alright.
We both put our game faces on because we realized that this was going to be a bit like driving to New York City and trying to find Central Park, without a map or a clue.
Oh, and without speaking the national language. Let’s throw that in for good measure.
We picked an exit from the Michelin map that seemed like it would be close to the Parcheggio di Villa Borghese and traveled down the ramp.
Surely there must be a sign at the bottom announcing the park, right? I mean, it is a large, well-known park.
To our dismay, not a one. No signs telling us anything.
This was the case for the next hour or so as we drove around aimlessly.
I was able to find a small map of Rome in ‘my papers’, but was never able to quite pick out our location. We couldn’t find one street sign telling us where the hell we were.
We drove round and round, back and forth. Nothing.
Frustrated and lost, I spotted a few young boys on bikes and we drove over, rolled down our windows and asked. Lucky for us they were helpful and spoke some English.
They even had a hard time telling us where it was, which in some warped way, made us feel a little better about our situation.
Though the boys didn’t solve the problem, they pointed us in the right direction and after another bout of getting lost a few more times, I finally spotted a sign for the garage.
But that was just a temporary high, because as Chris began his descent into what seemed like the entrance, half way down the steep, curved, narrowing ramp, he realized that he had made a grave error in judgment.
He had gone down the motorcycle entrance ramp. And though we were in a tiny SmartCar, it was no match for the narrow concrete walls.
We couldn’t make it any further down without taking the bumper and side-view mirror off the car and if someone were to pull up immediately behind us, we would get the second screwing of the day.
Where was the Lord Jesus when you needed him?!!
Knowing that I am the irrational and impatient one, I decided it would be best for me to just SHUT MY MOUTH!!
Instead, I closed my eyes, took several deep breaths and said yet another Hail Mary as Chris gently tried to maneuver the car out of the crevice that we were now lodged in.
It was a wise move on my part, because both the car and its inhabitants escaped without injury or further incident. Un Miricolo.
By now we were exhausted. But the fun was just beginning.
We trudged up the steep underground steps with our much too heavy luggage in tow and made our way to street level. Now we needed to find our bus (we were determined not to take taxis, but I was really beginning to regret that decision now).
Again, I asked myself what in the hell I was thinking!!?
Too tired to look around for a tabaccheria to buy a bus ticket, we hopped on the first bus we saw with the flashing neon #116, that by all accounts would drop us near our hotel.
We struggled with getting our luggage on board and some nice bus riders, who we later found out were American, helped us.
I began to worry that we would be kicked off, or worse, jailed because we were now illegally riding the bus without purchasing a ticket. I was panicking again.
Then the nice family that helped us with our luggage started chatting us up and I quickly forgot about my law-breaking status.
Turns out, they knew the bus line quite well. After we explained our hellish day, we told them our hotel was near the Piazza Navona. They must have felt sorry for us because before we could even start to worry about an exit strategy, the bus doors opened, they pushed us off the bus, luggage and all, promising that it was the right stop.
And we never did get to thank them. Nor did we get arrested.
Instead we spent the next half hour, marching up and down the street, looking for the little two block alleyway that housed our hotel.
No luck. When we finally found the road, it dawned on us that it was the exact spot the bus had stopped. If we had just looked down the tiny alleyway in front of us, it was the third building in on the right.
Go figure.
I’d never been happier to see three-flights of stairs and took them two at a time. We threw our luggage in the room and uncorked a bottle of red faster than you could say ‘Chianti’. We quickly polished off every last drop of the good juice in an effort to wash away the horror of the nightmare we just survived.
In the end we almost killed each other, avoided destroying the rental car, got to ride the bus for free, put our fate in the hands of some helpful Americans and realized that sometimes what you are looking for might just be right in front of your eyes.
Even with a detailed map and the best directions, the fact still remains that the signs in Rome really do suck. It leads one to believe that though all roads may lead to Rome, that tidbit of factual information is best left for the unprepared traveler to discover from the comfort of the backseat of a very expensive, but reliable Roman taxi cab.
And a little prayer in the city considered to be the Catholicism capital of the world doesn’t hurt either.
***
Have you ever driven a car in Rome before? Would you? Do you have a harrowing tale of misfortune to share?
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Friends & Supporters
November 24th, 2008
Your adventure was funny to read, but I wouldn’t want to go through it! Frayed nerves are not a happy holiday.
When in Rome, I let the Romans take me around or I get the Metropolitana!
It is hard getting your bearings in large cities. We couldn’t find our hotel in Paris once and we are all fluent in French. If you didn’t speak the language -sheess…
November 24th, 2008
It is funny now, but it sure wasn’t funny when it was happening! Live and Learn.
November 24th, 2008
Great story. We’ve never driven in Rome. On our first trip to Italy we had a similar situation in rush hour in Milan-we almost abandoned the car! When we finally found a parking lot it was so tight and crowded that we could barely get the car into a space. After that trip J. refused to get a car and we took the train. This year he was finally ready to drive in Italy again!
November 24th, 2008
Glad we are not the only ones! I would say we weren’t keen on driving again right after the trip, but since time has passed and we learned a hard lesson, we might give it another try. Maybe not in Rome though
November 24th, 2008
What a trip..my husband and I would nearly of killed each other as well!!!
Never been to Rome..but my husband has bought a sat nav, that we took to Italy, I would recommend this to everyone..it has definetely been worth the money, even though I moaned about it a first!!
November 24th, 2008
It was close Anne, though truth be told, I totally deserved to be killed first! I’ll admit it.
November 25th, 2008
What a nightmare! It’s sounds like something I would have done
I’ve been to Rome but I would never, ever drive in that city. The traffic is so bad. I even hate driving in Milan, which is a lot tamer in comparison. This year I asked Santa to get me a GPS device for xmas.
November 25th, 2008
Yeah, if I had it to do again, I don’t think I’d jump at the chance. Be a good girl for Santa-that’s a nice gift!
November 25th, 2008
Oh, my! Quel histoire! The signage outside Paris is pretty awful too. I think it’s a Latin thing. xo
November 25th, 2008
Thanks for the warning. Now I know never to drive outside Paris either! Maybe Latins didn’t want anyone to find them
.
November 26th, 2008
Oh mio dio!
I plan to apply for my Italian driver’s license next year. The idea of driving in Rome freaks me out. I live in the Center and these streets are very narrow. I’m hoping we practice and I can take the test in an area with wider streets.
I wish I could just transfer my California license but no can do. Sigh
November 26th, 2008
Wow!!! Your own Italian Driver’s License, You are a brave, brave women, Arlene!! In bocca al lupo
November 30th, 2008
Yikes! I’m not a driver anyway, but Rome? Definitely not happening
April 9th, 2010
This reminds me of our nightmarish exp trying to drive OUT of Rome. The next time we went, we caught a cab to the airport and left for Tuscany from there–much easier!
And I was in tears by the time I reached the parking garage in Avignon, France–where I arrived, belatedly realizing I had no idea how to get to my hotel, or even where it was located in the city. Try driving down medieval streets and not knowing how to put your car in reverse! (Note for other travelers: Sometimes European cars have a little button on the side that allows you to put the car in reverse.) *shudder*
Well, I am glad I’m not the only one that has ever gone through such an ordeal! I guess it’s all part of vacationing in a foreign country Lisa. I have a feeling neither of us would trade it. It’s funny after the fact though
)
.-= Lisa @ The World is Calling´s last blog ..Ek’ Balam, Mexico =-.
April 9th, 2010
I’m afraid to WALK in Rome let alone get behind the wheel. I have been a passenger in Italy–even Rome and Palermo, but with Italians driving. They understand the “unrules” of driving in Italy. I had a reservation for a car last summer in Sicily. The cars were parked at the bottom of a 3-story garage that wound upward. When I asked for an automatic, the girl behind the desk laughed. Right then, we decided buses were the way to see Sicily, and we did.
Sounds like you made the right choice!
April 10th, 2010
Having a car in NYC prepared me for Rome! I find the driving fine, but the signage PATHETIC!!!
All roads don’t lead to Rome, they lead (almost) to Rome’s Auditorium!!
I agree. Traffic is traffic, but when you have no signs – it’s a whole other ballgame!
http://burntbythetuscansun.blo.....ad-to.html
.-= Francesca Maggi´s last blog ..Italy: Attack of the Clones =-.
April 11th, 2010
I love it. It reminds me of my first visits to Italy…we rented a car, and while leaving the airport we couldn’t find the ticket you need to make the barrier rise and let you pass…I was holding up a whole row of cars, and had to abandon the car with my mother and sister in law in it to go and search for help (nothing like talking to a machine). While I was gone, a police officer came to the car to see what all the fuss was about. My sister in law, who speaks no italian, grabbed her italian phrasebook and started rifling through it frantically. The only thing she managed to say was “Io non mi lavo” (I don’t wash myself). The police officer was stunned, then amused…luckily that’s when I came along with a new ticket. Mamma mia what laughs as we sped off!
Oh, that is hilarious! “I don’t wash myself.” Classic. Thanks for sharing Regina
.-= regina´s last blog ..Ryan Air To Install Pay Toilets =-.
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