So you think you're a good driver huh? You know how to battle the Bay Bridge approach, how to keep poor planners from cutting you off on 101, what lane to be in on northbound 880 after the 237 merge? You say you know every back roads shortcut from Sunnyvale to San Mateo and can get from Brisbane to Fremont in less than 45 minutes on a weekday?
Big deal.
Driving in the San Francisco Bay Area is tactical. It takes creativity, planning, cunning, even style, but it's not the kind of driving that will help you in Europe. You've never had to drive truly defensively until you've driven in Europe. Anywhere in Europe. If they're not driving on the wrong side of the road, they're barreling down tiny cobblestone streets at speeds I wouldn't do on I-5, and pulling tricks in the middle of the avenue that would make your eyes fall out of your head. I still don't believe some of the stuff I've seen over here, and if I didn't have my husband to vouch for me, I'd think I was hallucinating. But sadly, it's all true.
Take, for example, the stunt we saw a couple of years ago in Rome, in front of the monument to king Victor Emmanuel II. This huge monument stands on one side of a massive and terrifyingly busy intersection. Dave and I were walking nearby, contemplating how on earth to cross that street without getting flattened by a moped or worse, and we noticed a large contingent of carabineiri, the military-like Italian police, standing around with their motorcycles. You see these guys everywhere in Italy, and they simultaneously made me really nervous and gave me the giggles. They try to look really serious and intimidating - and they carry very impressive automatic weapons - but I never once saw them do anything other than smoke and try to pick up girls.
So there we are, watching the traffic and trying to discern any pattern at all to determine how to cross the street, when a tiny Italian car entered the intersection. This wouldn't have attracted our attention except for the fact that, smack in front of the police, the car slowly came to a complete halt (in the middle of this busy intersection, mind you), and then STARTED BACKING UP! As if this weren't incredible enough, not one other driver honked or got upset about it! They just smoothly went around the car! And do you think the police even batted an eyelash? Of course not. They had smoking to do.
Here in Montpellier I've seen some doozies as well. Though the surroundings were French, again it was the Italians who provided the most memorable show. One Sunday morning this past summer, Dave and I wandered down to a local café for some coffee and to people watch, which is generally entertaining in France, and especially so when there's a road nearby. Before our coffee had even arrived, a likely candidate was spotted. A medium sized camper was heading down the one-way street, approaching a 90-degree left turn. Most non-pedestrian streets in the old city of Montpellier are bordered on either side by "dragon's teeth" - cement lumps about 2 feet high and spaced at intervals to prevent cars from driving or parking on the sidewalk. The camper approached the corner and ponderously began to negotiate it. The driver pulled the front wheels tightly to the left and edged forward painfully slowly, and then ever so cautiously wound up popping the back right wheel hub over one of these dragon's teeth. The camper was effectively pinned now, with the cement lump between its back tire and the mudguard.
This is the kind of situation Frenchmen seem to live for. While cars slowly stacked up behind the trapped camper (without honking even once), the next 25 minutes were taken up by shopkeepers, passers-by, and the occupants of the camper negotiating and attempting to free the thing. Over time, more and more Italians wandered out of the camper, as if it were some huge clown car. Heads were scratched and shaken, palms slapped, measurements taken.
I'm obviously neither male nor European, because the only solution I could imagine was trying to pop the cement block back out without scratching up the camper too much. What actually happened was far more laborious and time-consuming, but definitely better engineered. With painstaking exactitude, the contingent, now 8 strong, of Italians and French signaled the driver to edge the camper back and forth around the dragon tooth, as though it were a pivot. Each movement was calculated to straighten out the camper for the left turn while simultaneously edging the tire further and further (by centimeters) away from the cement block. Americans just aren't patient enough for an endeavor of this sort. After nearly half an hour, the tooth slipped out of the wheel well with a gentle crack and victory was theirs! Hands were shaken, backs were slapped, and the Italians clamored back into the camper, which headed down an even narrower street and out of sight.
Surely I am selecting the most extreme examples to make a point, right? These are entertaining interludes to be sure, but they don't speak for all drivers in Europe, definitely not drivers in France, given that the major players in these stories were Italian? Day to day driving in France is certainly no hotbed of controversy, right?
Don't you believe it.
What the French lack in extraordinary case studies they make up for in consistent ineptitude. And that's where the defensive driving comes in. It's not enough to just keep your eyes open and drive over here. I've taken to assuming that if there is something insane that can be done on a road I'm driving on, it will be done. And if I can't think of anything insane - I assume the other guy can.
It's normal in France to see cars straddling 2 lanes - they pick one or the other only when you get about 8 feet from their back bumper. Drivers fail to use their signal lights until their cars are already halfway into your lane. Lane markings are a mere suggestion in France, not to be taken seriously - after all, staying in a lane on a winding road takes much more effort and time that just driving straight through the curves, non? God be with you when you go through an intersection - the car that was in the lane next to you is more than likely going to be directly in front of you when you're through. Lane marked right turn only? Not in France. Oh it says it's a right turn only, but I promise you that the car in that lane will go straight through the intersection and cut you off. Happens every time.
I'd like to say despite these unbelievable and continuous displays of driving incompetence, that the highway safety record in France is extremely high. I'd like to say that, but I'd be lying. France has the highest highway mortality rate in Europe and it's not hard to figure out why.
Beyond the ongoing moving atrocities, there is a parking issue to be managed as well. I've mentioned that the French park their cars on the sidewalk with regularity as long as they're not physically prevented from doing so, but they also park smack dab in the middle of the street sometimes. Dave and I have been stuck in traffic jams where the sole cause was a poorly parked Renault Clio - poorly parked being defined as "completely blocking the street so that even bicycles have trouble getting past". Delivery trucks, people picking up a baguette, folks dropping off their dogs - it's totally acceptable to block the street, as long as you seem to be in a hurry. Whether you actually are or not is irrelevant. Keep your eyes down, shoulders hunched, look intent - and then walk away.
But the streets in the old city are narrow, being hundreds of years old, and were never intended for cars, so we might be able to get away with that explanation. OK, but riddle me this Batman - what's the excuse in a parking garage? Today I was completely at a loss as to how to get into my car. We park in an underground parking lot and when I got to the car, it was wedged next to a van. Obviously the van wasn't there when we parked the car, because it was impossible to open the driver's side door more than 4 inches. On the passenger's side, I couldn't open the door more than 2 inches because Dave had parked that side next to a post (very common. To fit into these spaces, you usually have to get cozy with a wall). I wound up lowering the passenger's seat and crawling into the driver's seat from the back seat!
It's distinctly possible that I'm missing something - that in fact there is some logic to all this. After all, I haven't taken a French driver's test, so I freely admit that I'm applying US rules. For the time being I'm watching what I eat. Next time I may have to go in through the window.
- KNP Jan 16, 01
