Who’s in the Driver’s Seat?

Welcome to my random musings about the world, on a weekly-to-occasional basis.

Where we are: We’re in Rome for a long weekend. I actually wrote the following several years ago; I’ve been saving it for a moment like this, when I’m fully immersed in pasta and gelato, ignoring my computer, stopping off in the hotel only long enough to sleep.

Who’s in the Driver’s Seat?

At a random gas station somewhere between Modena and Ravenna, Lee and I had perfect cappuccinos. My favorite part of our two-week road trip was the Parmesan and balsamic tours, but Lee’s was that gas station, where the barista totally nailed it.

Back on the road, fueled up and fully caffeinated, we listened to a podcast by a guy who had just taken his family to Italy for spring break. They outsourced everything: guides, drivers, hotels. They stayed at the Hilton and let someone else figure out the parking.

I’m jotting these thoughts from the passenger seat of our rental car, on the way to the airport. We’re heading to the North African nation of Algeria, where we’ll be staying … at a Marriott. We’ve already booked a driver and a guide.

So yes—I see the appeal of both approaches. One offers freedom and flexibility. The other offers peace of mind. The difference is all in the comfort level.

We’ve driven in Italy (full disclosure: Lee has driven in Italy) a bunch of times. The roads can be steep and narrow, and there are endless round-abouts, but overall, it’s not terribly different from driving in the US. It’s still cars trying to get from point A to point B. There are rules. People mostly follow them.

But the idea of trying to drive ourselves around Algeria seemed … daunting. We’ve never been. Are rental cars even an option? Some countries make it near-impossible for foreigners to rent a car.

We have no idea what the roads are like. Maybe they’re paved. Maybe they’re sand dunes with the occasional camel crossing. Will there be signs we can read? Is there parking? What if there’s a dust storm? What if we wind up in a one-way tunnel, facing a bus head-on?

For the record, we’ve encountered all of those scenarios before (yes, even the dust storm) while driving rental cars in other countries. None of them were worse than a minivan full of thirteen year-old girls, back in my middle-school carpool days. Now that’s the stuff of nightmares.

We often meet travelers who are intimidated by the idea of driving abroad. I get it. In those moments, I remind myself that just because I was willing to drive on the opposite side of the road in South Africa, that doesn’t mean anyone else has to be comfortable with it in Scotland.

I try to remember what it was like the time I white-knuckled my way out of the center of Brussels—alone—to get to the village where our eldest was living. It was slightly terrifying.

People have their own comfort zones—that’s fine. I don’t judge. And to be fair, we did hire a driver while we were in Italy: for a half-day tour of the Amalfi Coast.

It was totally worth the splurge—Lee was gleeful watching someone else deal with the Amalfi parking apocalypse.

Take care,

Lisa

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