Let me preface my tale with this fact. I am a great driver. I have been driving for eight years and have only been a part of one minor fender bender and have received one speeding ticket. Mama hates to drive, and admits that I am a much better driver than her. All that said, let me begin.
Driving in the southern part of France sounds delightful, especially to a person who loves to drive – all those lovely roads traversing through vineyards, mountain peaks above your shoulders, and a stick shift – my second love (my first love taught me to drive said stick shift, and after he was long gone, my love for shifting gears has never waned.) However, although the car was a sporty new stick shift, and the roads traversed through picturesque venues, the constantly changing one-way streets presented a bit of a problem.
Hugging a curve overlooking a mountain cliff, with no shoulder, while driving at a speed that pleases the cars behind you was a fun challenge. Navigating while driving and passing through uncountable roundabouts – it was like winning a prize when I arrived at my destination. But, following my GPS, only to end up backing out of dead-end streets, with cars squeezing me on both sides, backing out of one-way streets with a line of cars in front of me, and, my personal favorite, careening down pedestrian stairs was not part of my idealized driving dream – instead, it was like the game of Life - “You just got into Harvard! Now you’re $150,000 in debt!”
Unfortunately, I am not James Bond, and I could not continue to drive down the stairway and just brazen it out at the end. Much to the amusement of the local passerby, I backed my Fiat 500 back up the stair platforms, mine and my mother’s heads sticking out the windows like Lucy and Ethel, in an attempt not to hit the boulder walls on either side.
Monaco was just as bad as the little French towns, if not worse. The roads were slick and rivulets continued to cascade from the sky as we took the hair-point turns into the nation. The tunnels, which had a speed limit of 90 km/hr led us into the city center, where we wound our way up the mountain to park….on a dead end street that was supposed to lead us to Monte Carlo. Beep Beep!! Boom! Curbs are part of the roads in Monaco, we found, as we hopped the curb to enter the parking garage.
When it came time to leave, we followed the GPS to the closest exit…a one way street without a place to turn around…empty, thank goodness, until the cars started to come! Luckily the locals also thought this was a pretty funny event – it must be an unusual occurrence!
Vineyards are set in the loveliest of areas, off the beaten path, on curvy little roads…with speed limits of 70 km/hr and roads that can’t handle two lanes of traffic, where the oncoming car may fly towards you and you have a split second to edge to the side of the road sans shoulder.
Vineyards seen: numerous.
Breathtaking Views: At least 4
Exotic Cars: Maybe 100
Heart Attacks: Bordering on 3
Maybe this self-proclaimed grand driver has been knocked down a peg or two!
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