At home in Sweden I drive both a Tesla Model Y and a big Chevrolet Silverado. In America, I’m usually the one behind the wheel and I feel confident doing it.

But driving in Italy is something else entirely.

We rented a normal-sized BMW 5-series station wagon. Within five minutes in Sicily I understood why 95% of all cars here are tiny Fiat Pandas. The streets are incredibly narrow, and the hood on this car feels a mile long.

But the real problem isn’t the car.

It’s the Italians.

They don’t seem to follow a single traffic rule. Stop signs are suggestions. A two-lane road is instantly turned into three. Every intersection feels like a game of chicken where hesitation equals death. Add to this the endless swarm of Vespas, mopeds and motorcycles that overtake from every possible direction with zero regard for their own lives.

I will have aged at least 20 years by the time we get back to calm, rule-abiding Sweden.

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This is a new post on the new dewlar.me blog.
You can find the old blog here:https://mrsdewlar.blogspot.com

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