Road trippin with two eyetalians

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I shared in the renting of a car with two nice Italians that I met in the very sociable hostel in Salta (Terra Oculta-it was three days of barbeques, picnics, partying and ping pong with a bunch of about 8 of us). Giacomo is from Imola and Umberto is from Naples. Being conscientiously cautious about getting in a car with unknown drivers (that one´s for you Dad), the day before our departure I casually asked Umberto if he had driven in South America before. The answer was 'No. But I live in Napòli. It´s an urban JUNGLE.'(he said the word jungle very slowly and with great emphasis). HAppy with this I said 'Good, you can do all the driving then'.

We drove from Salta to Cachi to CAfayate, a spectacular (but long) dusty day trip through several Quebradas (gorges) and another Valle de la Luna (I´ve now been to a total of five 'Valle de la Lunas'). It turned out that the road is a near-deserted, unsealed road that doesn´t really need the skills of someone accustomed to the chaos of an urban junnnnngle.

Umberto was okaaay I guess (as a driver I mean), though reluctant to bust over 40km per hour. He drove the first few hours while I sat in the back silently nursing my latest round of trubbletum. However, the hour that Giacomo drove was terrible. He didn´t change out of second gear (or go above 30-except for very special occasions), making the car lurch back and forwards every 10 seconds (or was that his foot on and off the brake-accerlerator, I´m not sure). It was quite unbearable.

I later realised that during the hour that he was driving, I only piped up from the back just three times:

(1) ´Do you have many gravel roads like this one in Italy?´ (the answer, not to my surprise, was No)

(2) 'Is there an age minimum on who can drive this car, 25 for example?'

(3) 'This looks like a nice spot for a photo lets stop here' followed by 'incidentally, I feel a bit sick do you mind if I drive for a bit-I think it might help.'

So they made a few predictable jokes about 'oh hoh, we must be crazy, two italian men letting a woman drive oh hoh hoh'. They watched me flounder about for a few seconds getting my bearings in a left hand drive, and watched me try to change into first using the brake instead of the clutch. No, it IS the same positioning in AUstralia and yes, I have driven a manual before, it´s just that I´m feeling a little bit thrown on this side of the car.

Teething problems over, I am soooooooo much better than them. I am immediately comfortably (some of my friends might say conservatively, my father might say carelessly) cruising along at 60, and not slowing to a near stop for those little ridges in the road (you just have to drive THROUGH them, I explained in response to some alarmed comments from the eyetalians). Neither did I overcorrect all over the road at the slightest pebble like my companions were prone to doing.

The eyetalians are quiet for a few minutes and the first thing that comes out of Umberto´s mouth as we round a corner is: ´like a sport driver´.

For the sake of Luca´s pride, let´s hope those Eyetalians can play better than they can drive this Sunday.

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