Florence, Day 3: Peace Out, Flo!

The trek to find a taxi begins...

Though frankly terrified by the prospect of driving in Italy — seriously, David couldn’t eat, bless him — we were ready to evacuate Florence. A cab ride to the airport did little to ease our nerves, as we witnessed first hand the chaos of the streets. Our driver actually hit someone on a moped, and just kept on going. Yeah, terrified is not an exaggeration. After ramming the language barrier (and very nearly crashing into the rental  car gate barrier), we got underway.

OMG we are totally about to drive in a foreign country!

After several false starts with the GPS (Kevin, from Australia), we made it out and on to the “interstate.” After that, it really wasn’t that bad. We got lost once (probably more my fault than Kevin’s) but otherwise we made it safe and sound to our destination in the Tuscan countryside. So if you want to know how the driving was in Italy, we can say (or David can, because I was just a passenger) that it wasn’t that bad. In the country. Cities, on the other hand, are a different beast altogether.

I am officially the WORST navigator EVER.

On a side note, we stopped at an Italian gas station, where we marveled at their plus-sized sweets.

That's a sucker. Not me, the lollipop, fool!

And folks say America’s got all the fat kids.

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