vada più velocemente

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The Italian driver slammed on the brakes.

Hannah almost bashed her head against the front windscreen. Sean knuckles had turned white as his grip on the driver’s seat got increasingly tighter as Beth looked out the window, her stare vacant.

I thought of mentioning that watching the scenery fly past at an alarming speed was probably not the best way to way to calm down any frantically beating heart. I decided against it, instead watching the window.

Outside the taxi, winding streets curved all around us, bikes didn’t look as though they were moving and the Colosseum imposed over the road as we zoomed past, too fast to get a proper glimpse. A bus pulled out onto the road unexpectedly. Our driver didn’t even slow down as he veered around the new obstacle momentarily on the wrong side of the road before turning back into his original lane.

Shouting “vada più velocemente” seemed tempting but unnecessary.

“GO FASTER”

I shouted the English version instead hoping for the sake of my car buddies that the Italian didn’t understand English.

All three of them shouted at me as it turned out the Italian did understand English, or at least understood the intent and revved the taxi, now really speeding through the city of Rome.

The driver gave me a wink and I grinned back.

I should be afraid, we were going well over the speed limit, through back streets, just missing pedestrians, bikes and fat tourists, but fear was not in my blood. It would have be if I hadn’t been desensitised by Chinese taxi drivers long before coming to Italy. Sitting in the back of a Chinese taxi as they zoom through small alleyways at over a hundred kms per hour will really get your heart pumping.

Of course in China the government doesn’t care for enforcing rules such as speed limits, staying in lanes and indicating, but here in Rome that seemed to be different. The traffic lights had the red portion of the light double the size of the other two sections. The Italian government was at least trying to get their citizens to slow down.

It was most ineffective as we sat there unable to do anything as our driver ran two consecutive lights. Beth grabbed Sean’s arm in a death grip now staring vaguely at the windscreen, I watched a tiny bit fascinated as Sean’s knuckles got even whiter.

I mentioned that they could calm down at any point as our driver wasn’t going to kill us before he got paid. I was ignored.

Soon instead of old ruins dotting the sidelines, sandwiched between modern new hotels, our driver pulled to the side of the road and parked the car. I looked around to the left was an imposing wall that curved right around the street. A line of people disappeared around the corner.

We were at the Vatican City. Sean practically leapt out of the taxi, Beth clinging to him as Hannah blinked before moving slowly out.

Forgetting the Italian word for Thank you I still expressed the sentiment in English as I paid the driver who grinned at me and got out.