Further Travels - San Leo
MaryAnn told us we "had to" go down the coast to San Leo instead of checking out the lake country, as Marian had planned. Since she was the "world traveler", and had just returned from San Leo, we took her advice. This turned out to be both a blessing and a curse.
Monte Leone was a wee mountain town, nowhere for us to stay we found, to our dismay. Totally picturesque. Continuing on to San Leo, we got lost. The signage here is ... well, eccentric. Almost no roads are numbered. When they are, the number may be omitted or can change on a whim. Roads are identified by their destinations. Thus, the road to Vignole might be called "Vignole" with an arrow on the signpost. This doesn't seem so bad, until you realize that a given road might go on to some other (more major) places. Thus, the choice of signpost name becomes a matter of judgment. And since different individuals install the different signposts ... you can imagine. The town of our destination will appear on a signpost. Follow it ... at the next intersection, it is gone! Was it a wrong turn we took (possible), or just a different name? Sometimes one, sometimes the other. Try to find the names on this sign, on the map. Sometimes they show, sometimes not.
Although I would not call Italians "bad" or "crazy" as drivers, they are very anxious to pass. This leads to a considerable number of accidents. We passed three on the road one day. Generally, they specialize in front left fender damage, but in one case the driver of a large truck towing a large trailer was standing in front of his overturned truck, wringing his hands, waving them in the air, and gesticulating wildly into a cell phone. How many hands does that take? I am not quite sure. His trailer, also quite large, was compressed and rotated about 120 degrees, all sorts of grocery products strewn across the highway. The cops had not yet come, so we snaked by. His truck had created a new drainage ditch leaving the highway. I think he was having a bad hair day.
San Leo was great. The tourist board was fortunately still open when we arrived around 6 pm, and had a list of three hotels in town. The first two were full, the third was just a guy with rooms above his bar. We had to rev up the cell phone for him. It worked, but the master communicator at our end did not. I can understand a wee bit of Italian, but not speak any. Somehow, we got the last room in town that night. It was clean and pleasant. We stayed two nights.
Addresses in Japan are unique. The first occupant on the street has #1, the second, #2 and so forth. Naturally that means the house numbers are in no particular order. Taxi cab drivers usually need to call the destination to find out what circuitous route he needs to take to get me there. What great adventures. -- xox, Betty Sue
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