Notice to self... decline invitations to participate in motor vehicle insurance arrangements covering Amalfi drivers. I know I have been carrying on like a cut snake with all this commenting on Italian drivers. Nonetheless, the drivers are by far the most interesting feature of the Amalfi Coast.
This afternoon we saw good luck finally run out. We were returning on the Montepertuso bus after an enjoyable lunch in Positano. There was nothing special about driving conditions... clear sunny skies... traffic volumes heavier than lead... overcrowded bus... pretty normal really. Getting out of Positano, the bus had its usual share of close misses... millimetres... not centimetres... just as usual. But halfway up the mountain we had two circumstances where car drivers had to (knowingly) drive their cars against rock walls... and scrape their duco paintwork.
The circumstances of both accidents were similar. The road was one-car width going around a sharp corner. Our bus was on the outside of the curve... the driver blasted the horn to forewarn oncoming traffic. The oncoming driver either didn't hear or tried to bluff his way through. Our bus stopped and waited for the car to reverse... the car driver mustn't have known the car had a reverse gear and kept moving forward. The bus driver thought that the car driver was confident of getting through... so moved the bus forward a little bit. Both vehicles become jammed! It would take a coordinated decision to resolve the issue... the drivers couldn't talk with each other... so everyone observed a minutes' silence. In both cases, the car driver blinked first... edged his car forward and enjoyed the crunchy... squeaky sound of metal on rock.
These buses on the mountain run go up and down more frequently than a bride's nightie. They make a dozen trips a day. They must experience slow motion car wrecking on a daily basis.
My theory is that people who live in mountain villages (such as Montepertuso) do not drive their cars on a daily basis... it is too dangerous. Locals who must make a daily trip either own a motorbike or take the bus. All these cars parked in the village are there for emergencies or to go away on holidays. Evidence supporting my theory is twofold.
The layer of settled dust on the roof of the parked cars is deep... six-months deep.
Since we arrived, my car had only been 75% legally parked... its nose extending into a no-parking zone. At 7 AM this morning, I looked out and noticed the spot immediately behind me was vacant. Postponing shower and breakfast, I hurried down to move my car back a few inches to avoid possible parking fines. No sooner had I started the engine than ladies from two houses emerged to help me. My plan of moving back just a few inches was quickly jettisoned in favour of the ladies' plan to move right back... so that the car that had exited could park there again.
Discovering the different values in different communities is what travel is all about!
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