Kevin: The Colossus of Roads

One of the things I hate most about traveling is, well, traveling. What I mean by that this not that I don't like seeing new and interesting  places, wandering around, fantasizing that I live there. What I really don't don't like is the actual mechanics of moving from place to place-- the bus and train schedules, making the connections between them. Packing dirty clothes ( I pretend the luggage is a washing machine...if an article of clothing spends any time crammed in it, it's considered clean)

Thursday was one of those days...leaving Praino on the Sita bus, (bus late and horrifically overcrowded) meeting a ferry in Amalfi for Salerno, (Didn't happen...we had to take the bus,)finding the Hertz office in Salerno, (first evidence of Phil's superpowers) navigating out of Salerno to the Autostrada for Matera. (Second and best evidence of Phil's alter ego),  finding the inn in the Sassi district of Matera

(All of this effort was expended in the service of several hours poking around one of the strangest UNESCO heritage sights...a city where the buildings were  carved out of rocks and caves. But enough of the travelogue, let's return our story and to the complaining.)


 Luckily I and the others actually had to negotiate very little of this journey because a new member of the Phoote family emerged at this juncture of the journey, someone who orchestrated all of the tasks above-- FILIPPO MCGRANAHAN: THE COLOSSUS OF ROADS.

 After a few short miles at the wheel of a rented, fire-red  Fiat wagon and suddenly Phil now Fillippo was driving with the flagrant disrespect for common courtesy, for the sanctity of human life, and for the need to observe the conventions of civilized human discourse that are the marks of an true and typical Italian driver.  Ciao, Phil, Buon giorno , Filippo.

It was awe inspiring to see him battle with the natives for the dominance of a two way, one lane, cobblestone alley with parking on both sides.

Breathtaking to see him swerve around  and pass trucks on a rotary for no good reason.

Refreshing to hear him growl "Not today motherfucker" when refusing to cede even a small section of the roadway to a terrified Chinese gentleman on a bike.

He had found a new voice and it sounds like a car horn. We all feel a lot safer and ready to head to Lecce.








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