This is a story about not following directions. A story about how I planned a road trip around northern Italy, but ended up in the tiny country of Monaco. This is the story of YOLO.

Kids, don’t try this at home. (But really – do not. You’ll see why.)

Let’s talk for a second about the concept of “YOLO”.

If you cannot stand this acronym, you are not alone. Admittedly, I myself and 86% of the population over 20 have a love-hate relationship with it, but for the sake of story time and to make a point (I hope), I will continue…

For those who don’t know what “YOLO” stands for (first of all – what? how?)…….. it’s “You Only Live Once”. It was an acronym made popular in the last few years among youngsters (apart of which, sadly, I am no longer). In theory, it’s a wonderful concept: Life is short and you have one life to live, so do the things you’ve always wanted to do. Live your dreams.

Great message. Love it.

That said – REGRETTABLY – kids these days just use YOLO as a sort of battle cry to justify doing reckless and stupid sh*t.

For example…

“Oh, this entire pint of ice cream looks mighty enticing even though I’m lactose intolerant – YOLO.”

“Oh, this unfiltered Russian vodka comes in a plastic bottle? – YOLO.”

“Oh, the only way I can blow up a hut with a bazooka is to get into a car with a stranger and drive 100 miles into the Cambodian wilderness? – YOLO.”

You see my point??? Whoever does any of that is straight up irresponsible and dumb as rocks…. *diverts eye contact*… *steps away slowly*

For this story about how I started off guzzling wine in Milan, Italy, and ended up, well…. still guzzling wine, but in Monaco at a Jazz brunch overlooking the Mediterranean Sea… we must start from the very beginning.

Back in December, I was frantically gearing up for my travels. As some of you know, a few weeks ago, I traveled to South America and Antarctica. I had considered this my ultimate YOLO trip, since hitting all seven continents was a huge dream of mine.

Little did I know, my “tame” road trip to Italy a couple of days after getting back would be considered even more YOLO than freaking Antarctica. And… for all the wrong reasons.

The entire month of December was spent readying myself for what I thought would be, like, negative 22 degrees Fahrenheit weather on the White Continent. (Anticlimactically, it was 30 to 40 degrees. Much warmer than a New England winter.) But this unnecessary preparation meant virtually no time was spent planning my road trip around northern Italy right after.

All I knew was, roughly:

Milan –> Lake Como –> Lake Garda –> Verona –> Florence –> Cinque Terre –> Milan

Easy enough, right?

Haaa, yes, that was the plan… but, like I mentioned: I failed to follow my own directions (probably, for the first time in my life, now that I think of it…)

I flew out on January 27th from SFO, layover at JFK, where I would board my flight to Milan. Turns, out – SAY WHAT?!?!?! THIS FLIGHT WAS 40% EMPTY. MEANING I GOT AN ENTIRE ROW OF 4 SEATS TO MYSELF. Guys, I paid $400 round trip for this flight. And I was going to be able to lay flat across four seats LIKE I WAS IN MOTHAF*CKIN’ FIRST CLASS. I’m gonna start a #BLESSED count, because this will come into play later, you watch.

#BLESSED COUNT: 1

I arrived in Milan fully rested, sans lower back pain, and it was glorious.

After collecting my suitcase, I went to pick up my cute little Fiat that would get me around. I approached the Hertz counter and the lady started going through the motions of getting me my rental.

“Your car is located on this floor in the garage on the right. B56 is the parking space; here is the key. Oh, by the way, you’ve gotten a free upgrade.”

WHAT!! My Fiat got upgraded?! COOL! What do I get –  a nicer Fiat???????

I approached the car… looking for a Fiat. What I got was this:

(Okay, not exactly this, but I realized I didn’t get a great photo of the car….)

But so you guys don’t think I’m lying – here is an actual picture of my car:

I looked around: This couldn’t possibly be mine. It looks like a freaking sports car. I BOOKED A FIAT FOR WHAT SOMEONE WOULD PAY…. FOR A FIAT.

I clicked the “Unlock” button on my key. The lights flashed on this 2017 Alfa Romeo Giulia.

Holy. Crap. Guys. 

#BLESSED COUNT: 2

(Later I was told by a friend that the engine on the Giulia was inspired by Ferrari. Which explains now how the rate of acceleration of my car at home isn’t exactly doing it for me right now…)

I mean, I must admit, though, I wasn’t completely sold on the Giulia from the get-go. After all, though it was equipped with GPS/Nav, Bluetooth, automatic windshield wipers, and Park-Assist sensors… it was missing the ONE THING I ACTUALLY NEED IN LIFE: A back-up camera.

No joke – Not even 5 minutes after I climbed in, I almost backed up into another car. Twice. Aaaand almost turned onto the wrong side of the road. Sad Note: Italy drives on the same side of the road as the U.S. I have no excuse, really.

It goes without saying: I am the reason the female Asian Driver stereotype exists. I don’t know why I decided I would be okay driving all over Italy… by myself…without a chaperone.

More on this later. But for a brief hiatus….

Italian Food and the Unfortunate State of Mendi’s GI Tract

In true Mendi fashion, here’s a pic collage of some noms from the trip (if you’re really hungry, you can click to enlarge the photo):

As expected, Italians sure don’t mess around with their carbs and saturated fats (cheesefordays). Perfect for a girl who is trying to watch her love handles AND is lactose intolerant, heh. But seriously, who goes to Italy and eats a SALAD?? *scoff*

You’ll notice there’s not enough food up there to cover the days I spent in Italy. Well… ha….  that’s cuz Mendi got herself just a leeeeettle dose of food poisoning.

I know what you’re thinking: “Mendi, you’ve been to places like South America… Africa… Southeast Asia… and you get food poisoning in ITALY of all places?”

Yes, guys. I know. Not my proudest moment.

Long story short, starting day 2, I was a walking time bomb after I put anything in my stomach besides water. 1.5 hours later – I’d make a sprint for the nearest restroom. I know, TMI – but WE’RE ALL FRIENDS HERE, RIGHT?

I don’t know if it was from the tap water I drank (my Airbnb host said he encouraged it! <– FYI this is the last time I do anything just because someone “told me it was okay”…) or a prawn pasta I ate for my first dinner – my dearest shrimp, hath you forsaken me – but BOY WAS FOOD POISONING A NUISANCE.

Luckily, I had “accidentally” (i.e. forgot to take it out of my luggage) brought antibiotics from my South America/Antarctica trip, so I had those handy. But I failed to bring Imodium (anti-diarrheal meds). I kid you not, when I asked the pharmacist in Florence I needed Imodium, he handed it to me and said, “Good luck.”

Thank you, sir. I’ll need it.

Wine, because Italy.

For fear of tainting my reputation, I will not post the photos of the 18 glasses of Italian wine I drank on this trip (I counted. Yes. 18. Keep in mind I was solo traveling so I probably looked like I needed an AA membership to passersby.)

One thing I will note, though. Similar to how vodka is in Russia, a restaurant’s house wine in Italy is cheaper than bottled water. And it’s phenomenal. So… why get water when you can get happy???

Cheers to that!

Oh, I also went HAM on the Italian wine at Duty Free on my way back.

Some people ask – Mendi, why do you carry such a big backpack traveling when you already have a suitcase?

…… PRECISELY SO I CAN MAKE IT RAIN AT THE DUTY FREE SHOPS GETTING ALCOHOL.

Driving in Italy: Oh boy

Okay, brief hiatus over. Given this was an Italian ROAD TRIP, naturally, most of my stories would come from being, well, on the road.

The first place I stayed at in Milan was an Airbnb near the city center. Lesson #1 about driving in Italy: Italian roads are about 25% narrower than roads in the U.S. This also applies to alleyways. This also applies to parking spaces. This also applies to TUNNELS YOU NEED TO PASS TO GET TO YOUR DAMN PARKING SPACE.

Long, cringeworthy story short, I freaking dented my beloved Giulia on Day 2 of driving. A huge…….. monstrous……. dent on the passenger’s side. And a scratch next to the back tire because I thought the dent was getting a bit lonely. I’m such a giver.

Later, when I checked into one of my hotels and needed to use a hotel-reserved parking space, the receptionist asked what car I drove. “Oh, an Alfa Romeo.” “The Giuletta?” “No, the Giulia.” “WHAT! THAT CAR IS TOO BIG FOR ITALIAN STREETS”. I know, sir, I know……

It was clearly a great start to the road trip…. and I only had 9 more days of INTENSE DRIVING to go. I was real excited……..

……….

Jokes aside, I was definitely getting a little nervous and panicky about the rest of the trip. This was my life on the line.

On the freeway, for some reason unbeknownst to me, Italian drivers love to drift casually into neighboring lanes without actually committing to that lane… they’ll just slowly drift back to their original lane without second thought. This is all fine and good…. AS LONG AS SOMEONE’S NOT IN THAT LANE NEXT TO YOU. This was absolutely not the case when I had to suddenly swerve OUT OF THE WAY when a lady drifted into my lane, but OH-MY-DEAR-GOD-SOMEONE-WAS-IN-THE-OTHER-LANE-TOO I swerved back and had to do this cute little stabilization dance back and forth. Which was not actually all that cute.

GEEEEEZ. Was I in way over my head? Why did I decide driving was a good idea? Did I think I was invincible or something?

Well, I guess, the short and unfortunate answer is…. YOLO. Driving would offer me the most flexibility on this trip and would also let me admire the Italian countryside and coastline along the way. If not now, when? I told myself: “Mendi, grow some cajones. You can do this.”

I won’t lie, though, I sent prayers every morning and night for the safety of myself and every other car I would encounter on the road. Because god knows everyone else needed all the help they could get with me wreaking havoc on the streets. Before long, I might’ve actually taken out the entire Italian population.

So this time of year in Italy, I learned there is a reason why it’s “non-peak season”. It is very…… wet. And foggy. And cold.

But hey, I’m not complaining… sometimes the views driving were like this:

But other times it was like…. this:

I had to screenshot the below because I thought it was hilarious.

Do you see Visibility? It’s like… half a mile! And honestly, I thought that was being very generous. I couldn’t see ANYTHING one of the days driving. According to Google Maps, I was literally right next to the towering Dolomites (the Italian Alps)… but you could’ve told me I was surrounded by desert and I might’ve actually believed you. Couldn’t see sh*t. So I guess, ha, joke was on me – I wouldn’t be able to admire any of the scenery driving anyway.

Cute Babies, Castles, Cathedrals, Coliseums, Countryside

Okay, I should probably talk about the sights, since, well, this is a travel blog and not a Mendi-is-an-international-driving-hazard blog.

Here you go – A vomit of photos of the beautiful Castles/Cathedrals/Coliseums/Towns/Random Views (you can click to enlarge):

As you can see, many amazing sights and views to behold in Italy. And I didn’t even visit the two most popular cities, Rome or Venice! These photos constitute the following sites: Milan, Lake Como, Lake Garda (kind of, not really – fog problems), Verona, and Florence/Tuscany.

Some key highlights now.

I’ve heard mixed things about Verona. Some people think it’s “meh” and I can just drive past it to Venice. Others love it to pieces. Well, I decided to judge for myself. Honestly, I really enjoyed the charm and quaintness of Verona. The area one needed to cover to see all the major sites wasn’t very large… so I spent a lot of time wandering into random streets and marveling at the adorable window shutters and doors.

And of course, there’s all that Romeo and Juliet hullabaloo. I found it hilarious that these were the signs marking their respective houses:

Like, really guys, the thing YOUR CITY IS KNOWN FOR and you couldn’t have cleaned that up even a little bit…..

And then the grand finale –  Juliet’s balcony – which I found even more comical:

Wow…. hm, that’s it, huh? That’s the balcony Romeo decided to holla at. That’s cool, I mean, there are a ton more aesthetically pleasing balconies in Verona, but I’m not judging………

And then there’s this girl fondling Juliet’s boobs. Stay classy.

Florence: I stayed there for 3 nights, since I heard this area was the most spectacular and idyllic with endless places to explore. Initially, I devoted one whole day to wine tasting (because why else? alcoholic); I booked a tour from Florence to the Chianti region of Tuscany to visit some local vineyards. The reason was twofold: (1) I wanted to marvel at the Tuscan countryside uninhibited by having to stare at the road; and (2) I was already a hazard sober-driving… didn’t want to complicate things further with a BAC%, knawmean???

Well, the night before this tour was supposed to begin, I got an email from the agency saying they had to cancel my wine tasting tour. Boooooo. BUT…. instead, they offered to upgrade me to the “Tuscany Grand Tour” which allowed me to visit Siena, San Gimignano, Pisa, Lucca, AND do a wine tasting in Chianti. WHAAAAAAAAAT. This was way more than I had originally planned to see during my trip to Tuscany (I thought I’d stay mostly in Florence). I felt so grateful, since I would never have been able to see or experience these places if my original trip hadn’t been cancelled. San Gimignano was beyond beautiful – a town/landscape straight out of a fairytale.

#BLESSED COUNT: 3

I’m notorious for saying “I never win anything” during raffles or “I never get upgraded for anything”. Well, guess I can shut up now.

Also, side note: there was a lot of *this* going on at Pisa. I basically spent all my time in Pisa (there’s not much to do, honestly) lol-ing incessantly at strangers posing for photos. Wish I had some popcorn.

We also had a Chianti wine tasting lunch sprinkled in and then champagne later in the day. Not gonna lie, they kept me extremely… “happy” on this trip.

Few things I learned about Chianti wine:

1. Chiantis have to be made with at least 70% Sangiovese grapes
2. Red wine can be kept in oak or steel barrels (oak affects the taste; steel does not)
3. The wine-making process is very stringently regulated… and it’s actually done where your neighbors do the monitoring (something about keeping your neighbors in check so they don’t “taint” the wine-making reputation of the surrounding area) – fascinating!
4. “Official Chiantis” have a sticker around the stem of the wine bottle, noting that this wine has followed all the strict regulations to be considered a Chianti wine. If you’ve found a “Chianti” without this sticker… STEER CLEAR BRO IT’S FAKE AF

Our guide’s name was Andrea, and the two others on the tour were Louis and Ruby – a cute, friendly, very inquisitive couple from Hong Kong. LOUIS EVEN BROUGHT HIS DJI PHANTOM 4 DRONE OMFG. The views were amazing from up there… Definitely motivated me to bring my drone on future trips 🙂

The next day in Florence I decided to get “cultured”.

(Not the bacteria kind. The artsy fartsy kind.)

So I went to Pitti Palace and the Uffizi Gallery to admire some masterpieces, among which were…

THE BIRTH OF VENUS

THIS LEONARDO DA VINCI PAINTING WHOSE NAME ESCAPES ME (guess I didn’t get that cultured, sigh…)

THIS VINTAGE CARTIER WATCH ON A RIBBON BAND

And then there were amusing works like this hemaphroditic sculpture meant to confuse the viewer…. wut.

“When you find out your BFF is a two-faced beeyotch.”

“LAY OFF MY PB&J, YOU FILTHY ANIMAL!!!!”

“WHAT, JON SNOW IS DEAD?!?!?!?!?!?!”

Like I said…. CULTURED.

I know what you’re thinking… But Mendi – you promised us cute babies in this section! Stop being a tease! UGH OKAY FINE. Here are some stalker photos of cute Italian babies.

DO THEY SELL THOOOOOSE AT DUTY FREE? DO WANT.

So this is the part where I YOLO

I mentioned earlier that the weather during my visit wasn’t exactly ideal. A lot more rain and fog than expected.

This realization absolutely goes along with me not doing ample research before coming on this trip, because if I had done so, I would’ve known that (1) the weather during winter is… not great… AND (2) that most (I’d say 95%) of the shops in a lot of resort towns would be closed until the March or April timeframe when tourism picks up again.

This was the case when I visited Lake Como and Lake Garda. I struggled to find even one coffee shop open at those places. Though I’d say the silver lining was that I got to explore those areas without the hordes of selfie-stick-bearing tourists mobbing the scene. THERE’S ONLY ROOM FOR ONE SELFIE-STICK-BEARING-TOURIST IN THIS TOWN.

With this in mind, I thought about the rest of my “planned” itinerary for the trip. Verona and Florence, I thought, would be fine – those cities are operational pretty much year round.

Cinque Terre, though? I planned to go hiking there for 2 full days, so I looked up the weather forecast during my stay.

Nope nope nope. TORRENTIAL RAIN EVERY SINGLE DAY.

If I went to Cinque Terre, I would likely be stranded in my hotel for the two days. What a bummer because I had heard from friends about the breathtaking hiking and scenery.

Nevertheless, it was time for Plan B (… and mind you, I am not a “Plan B” type of gal. It’s “stick to the plan” or bust, usually.)

BUT I GUESS SOMETHING KICKED IN…..

YOLO.

Let’s do something crazy, Mendi. If only just this once. I opened up Google Maps on my computer and started scanning Italy. Where could I possibly go during these two days that would take my mind off missing Cinque Terre completely?

Rome? Venice? Ugh… so out of the way….

*scan scan scan*………… Wait a second…. Why am I trying to stay in Italy? Nothing says I can’t leave the country – this is the EU, after all! Okay… France????? That sounds cool! What’s close to Italy….? THE FRENCH RIVIERA.

I zoomed into the area.

Monaco.

Bingo. This was it. I was going to Monaco.

And within the hour, I had mapped out my driving route and booked my hotel to go to Monaco, the land of Grace Kelly. Sometimes when Mother Nature gives you lemons in the form of torrential downpours…. you make, duh, lemonade.

Sweet, sweet lemonade – since I would be able to add one more country (the smallest country after the Vatican) to my travel checklist.

Alright, fast forward to my drive to Monaco. Yes, friends, MORE DRIVING STORIES. I’m telling you: “The MendiEuroRoadtrip2017” sure was a doozy.

This 400km drive from Florence to Monaco taught me that… Google Maps has some homicidal tendencies. IT IS NOT TO BE TRUSTED IN EUROPE. I mean, before this drive, it had told me to make some illegal turns here and there…… and that was fine, because I instinctively course-corrected… but at one point, it led me on the freeway IN THE WRONG DIRECTION. The way I found out was the army of cars high-beaming me from the other direction. I immediately swerved into the median, heart pounding. GOOGLE Y U DO DAT.

Oh, and I mentioned the reason why I didn’t go to Cinque Terre was because of intense rain in that area (and honestly in all of Italy, it felt like). So yes, DESPITE ME NOT STOPPING IN CINQUE TERRE, I had to still brave the pouring rain in my trusty Giulia. I kid you not, people, I counted that the Giulia hydroplaned about 15 times during this 5 hour drive. My hands were definitely cramping from grasping the steering wheel like my life depended on it (because… it literally did.)

And LOL WHAT A JOKE when I said driving would allow me to admire the views, especially since I was cruisin’ along the Mediterranean coast the entire time. NOPE I WAS TOO BUSY TRYING TO STAY ALIVE TO LOOK AT ANYTHING BUT THE ROAD IN FRONT OF ME.

Sigh. Definitely sprouted a couple of white hairs during this drive. And also comical was that I paid FIFTY EUROS in toll fare. When I saw the amount I owed on the screen, I literally laughed out loud and the toll guy gave me a look of disdain.

Five long hours later, I finally crossed the Italian-French border, and then minutes after, the France-Monaco border, and yelled “WOOHOO I’M HERE. AND ALIVE!”

Plot twist: I was not there. Not even close.

One thing I quickly learned about Monaco is that roads are confusing as HELL (plus we all know now Google Maps wasn’t keen on keeping me alive), and if you missed a turn, you’d be stuck on the road for about 20 kilometers before you could turn back.

Please note that I WAS DEFINITELY RUNNING LOW ON FUEL by this point. And when I finally, after 45 extra frustrating minutes of missing turns here and there, started approaching my hotel, THERE WERE FREAKING ROAD CLOSURES EVERYWHERE.

I was stuck, crawling at a snail’s pace, low on diesel, and I couldn’t turn onto the street where my hotel was located at. Where was I supposed to go?!

Not to mention… I saw the French SWAT team run around with shields and semi-automatics and heard what I thought were gunshots go off every 5 seconds.

DAFUQ WAS HAPPENING?!?!?! IS MONACO UNDER SIEGE!?!? I had made a grave mistake coming here… Should’ve kept to the plan. “YOLO”? MORE LIKE “NOLO”.

Later, I find out that it’s none other than *drumroll-more-like-eyeroll* A FREAKING MONACO-NICE SOCCER MATCH – apparently an intense rivalry – and those gunshot sounds were freaking fireworks and red smoke bombs for the rally. GOOD GOD.

I check into my hotel and go to my room and this is what I see:

WAS I SO LUCKY AS TO HAVE THE HUGE SOCCER MATCH RIGHT OUTSIDE MY HOTEL WINDOW? THAT WOULD BE SO COOL.

Answer: No. This was just the practice field. FML. But cool view, though. And free entertainment. I’ll take it.

Here’s the actual stadium:

Alright, so in Monaco there are a few things to do:

(1) Admire the famous yacht harbor view (which I did copious amounts of. Went to this vantage point 4 times in the 2 days I was there)

 

(2) Buy a yacht and/or private jet (which, spoiler alert, I did not do)

 

(3) Go to the famous Aquarium

(4) Go to the also-famous Garden of Exotic Plants (overlooking the Mediterranean) – btw, to get here you’re taking stairs for DAYS. Protip: If you’re in desperate need for an effective glutes workout, go to Monaco.

(5) Eat a fancy Jazz Brunch at the Fairmont Monte Carlo where you take advantage of the bottomless wine a.k.a. have four generous glasses and then proceed to get more happy than normally acceptable in public and fail to respond to the advances of hot French chef that asks for social media info (…. I did none of that, no….)

(6) Throw down stacks of cash at the world famous Monte Carlo Casino (yeah I WISH)

I did cause a slight ruckus at the Monte Carlo, though, since, well… I went right after brunch in my… inebriated state. I must say, I thought I was doing pretty well composing myself (all the while my brain was very much like AS;DLKFAJDS;LFKJAS;DJAS;FJBWAHHHHH) in the Casino as I watched a bunch of old white dudes throw down THOUSANDS OF DOLLARS on Roulette without second thought.

But then came time to claim my backpack. (You couldn’t bring bags into the Casino, nor could you take photos in there, for obvious reasons.) Lo and behold, in my drunken state I had freaking lost my baggage tag. But what was ridiculous was that the ladies in the bag check room were super adamant that I find this tag when really only like 3 other people checked their bags in after me. LADY, I WAS THE ONLY ASIAN WOMAN IN THIS ENTIRE CASINO – HOW ARE YOU NOT GOING TO REMEMBER ME AND MY INORDINATELY HUGE BACKPACK?

Luckily, after 10 long struggle-minutes; this saint-of-a-concierge-guy helped me get my bag back while the ladies in the room gave me dirty looks/eyerolls galore. I mean, WHATEVER. I was too busy getting drunkenly MINDBLOWN by the rainbow outside the Casino right after to care.

All in all, my trip to Monaco was immensely fulfilling and enjoyable – though after that brunch, I was EXTREMELY hungover by 4PM. Never again. (But actually I’d probably do it again.)

Alright, I feel like I’ve neglected the #BLESSED COUNT for a while. Let’s revisit.

Drive from Monaco back to Milan where I would fly out was pretty uneventful. Thankdalord.

That said, the morning I was going fly back, I had to fill up the beloved Giulia with fuel prior to returning the rental. LOL let’s not mention that I almost drove off with the gas nozzle still in my car and a poor old Italian man had to run after my car. Bless his heart.

Let me just put a formal PSA out there, though I know it now goes without saying: Never, ever get in a car with me. 

BUT as I’m going to Hertz to return the car, I’m thinking: Geez this feels like a Walk of Shame. The dents I had made on the Giulia that 2nd day of driving… now is the time I pay for my mistakes.

I parked and climbed out of the car. I got my phone out, fully ready to take a photo of the dents for evidence… when the Hertz guy comes and goes “Returning?” I, almost about to take a photo but now don’t wanna give away that there is a gigantic dent in my car, put my phone away, and say, “Yes! I’ll be right over.”

And there I was, waiting nervously at the Hertz stand while he’s “inspecting” the car……

He comes back and asks, “Would you like a receipt?”

Me (sigh, I guess I should get a receipt for what I owe): “Yes, please.”

He hands it to me and I look: No charge.

#BLESSED COUNT: 4

DID HE OVERLOOK THE DENT? DID HE NOT SEE IT? DID HE NOT SEE THE MATCHING SCRATCH EITHER? DOES HE NOT CARE?

All I know is… IDGAF. This was a miracle. WAYYYYY UP, I FEEL BLESSED.

Such good car-ma (get it???) during this trip… HA. HA… HA…ha…. Okay I’ll stop.

And let’s also quickly mention I AGAIN got an entire row of four seats to myself on my first flight back to JFK, then an empty seat next to me on the flight finally back to SFO.

#BLESSED COUNT: 5 & 6 and probably 7, 8, 9, 10…. 1,569,243 while we’re at it.

SERIOUSLY, WHAT DID I DO TO DESERVE ANY OF THIS? :’)

To wrap up what was *supposed* to be a short, sweet recap of a simple Italian roadtrip turned into this ridiculous saga about how Mendi almost died 8,000 times in the span of 10 short days. I know sometimes (most of the time) on this blog, I exaggerate things, but TRUST ME WHEN I SAY THAT A FEW TIMES ON THIS TRIP MY LIFE FLASHED BEFORE MY EYES. As did a bunch of high-beaming cars coming my direction.

I’ve learned: It’s important to find a balance between “YOLO: Do stuff you’ve always wanted to do, even if it’s a bit reckless and stupid” and “YOLO: You actually ONLY live one precious life, guys… don’t actually be that stupid, plz.”

Never have I learned this lesson more than on this trip.

And now comes time to be grateful for all the blessings I received:

• Thank you Italian drivers for not honking at me when I performed questionably-legal maneuvers on the road.
• Thank you one Italian driver for honking at me when I was about to back up into your car.
• Thank you good samaritan old man for saving me $$$$$$$$$ and, more importantly, dignity when I almost drove off with a gas pump.
• Thank you Hertz man for turning a blind eye to the massive dent on Giulia (and oh yeah, thank you for upgrading me, Hertz.)
• Thank you Imodium for doing your one job.
• Thank you Florencetown Tours for upgrading me so I could have my mind blown by Tuscany.
• Thank you Buddha, and – come to think of it – every other higher being that protected me from my demise on this trip. Y’ALL DA REAL MVP.

And lastly, I know what you’ve been thinking these last few blog posts. Has Mendi outgrown her ugly-face/unflattering-jumping-photos phase? Is she finally acting her age? 

…………..

ARE YOU KIDDING ME

With love,

Mendi

10 Feb This entry was published on February 10, 2017 at 8:36 am. It’s filed under Europe and tagged europe, eurotrip, italy, monaco, roadtrip, solo travel, travel. Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post.