Well ok, it’s not entirely his fault. I blame the driver.
We were flying home after spending almost 2 weeks in Lisbon and the Azores. Our long layover had graced us with about 7 hours of sleep at a hotel just outside of Charles De Gaulle. And with 12 more hours to wait before the final leg of our flight, we decided to enjoy Paris for a bit. Anthony Bourdain made long layovers look cool! Why couldn’t we?
But we didn’t account for commuter traffic into the city.
We didn’t account for a lot of things, actually.
Like our ride-share driver’s obvious intestinal issues that smacked of biological warfare. Or the fact that he was driving so aggressively (read:using off ramps as passing lanes) we all almost messed ourselves.
Rick Steves may monologue poetically about the beauty of circling Arc de Triomphe but he wasn’t with our driver. This guy defiantly shoved his car within an inch of a merging bus (probably a Rick Steves tour) using his sheer determination to intimidate other mere mortal Parisians. He would rather die and take us with him than give up the sliver of space he used to shoot across five lanes of oncoming cars all in an equal rush to get to their own destinations.
Now I’d like to be able to tell you that I was in tune with each of my children, gave them reassuring looks, said that we’d be ok, maybe even reminded them that each culture is different and we shouldn’t judge.
But I couldn’t look at them. I couldn’t fake the calm. I was too busy wondering if I’d see the inside of a French hospital.
When he dropped us off, three blocks from our desired destination by the way, we happily lept out of the car.
The experience left quite the impression on our oldest who decided that driving in Paris was insane. Maybe it was the fact that he was in the process of driver’s education himself. Or maybe that he had just begun to realize the power, and accountability of being in charge of tons of steel going at high speeds. But whatever it was, he determined that Paris did not need to be on his travel list ever again.
For all the crazy twists and turns I believe that this is part of travel. Not literally the crazy driver himself but that experience when a difference in expectation smacks you upside the head, assaults the senses or challenges your idea of normal.
If you ask my son if he wants to go back he’ll say you’re rediculous. But everything is rediculous when you don’t grow up with it that way.
Like me showing up at a McDonalds in Portugal (don’t judge) and discovering that not only could I buy a beer, but that said alcohol was cheaper than a soda. Whaaaaatttt??? Further scientific investigation taught me that Portugal is one of many countries that has a tiered sugar tax and the more sugar content something has the more it costs to buy.
If a new experience is not what we’re used to, it makes us take a step back. That’s the greatest opportunity – to throw what you think is the norm under a spotlight as you encounter people who do it a whole different way.
Sometimes you adopt something new (sugar tax = brilliance). Othertimes, well maybe you just passionately recommit yourself to driving in a manner that encourages a long life.
In the end travel helps you discover a bit about yourself, what you want to hold onto and what you want to give away. And that to me is worth a crazy driver.
Until next time fellow travelers,