At this very moment, I’m preparing myself. I’m accumulating helmets, shin pads, neck guards, shoulder pads, back braces, wrist guards, bubble suits, steel toed boots and I might even throw in a cup for Chris.
Tomorrow, I am officially going to start DRIVING in Belgrade. For real.
I’ve decided I need to woman-up and get my rear on the road again. This, of course, is something I’ve debated since I’ve got here. Canadians – appreciate your roads. Appreciate how big they are, how most streets can fit a car the size of a house. Appreciate the pot holes, appreciate how civil our driving experiences are, how road rage is something we remark on because it’s not typical of our daily commute. It’s the norm here. So is excessive speed. So are broken turn signals. Well, let’s assume they are all broken or non-existent because no one uses them. Traffic signs appear to be suggestions. Sidewalk or old woman in your way? Non issue. Just floor it until either of them gives.
I’ll have to give myself some time to get used to people screaming and honking at me because I haven’t moved fast enough. I have also debated decorating my car with tarantulas so people give me plenty of room to drive. I’m thinking they would just smash into me to kill them so maybe I’ll skip this, but the fear is real.
I’m not entirely sure I’m up for this yet, so I’m renting a car before Christmas. If, by some miracle, I come out unscathed and toughened up, we might buy one in January. But a teeny, tiny one. (I think). I rented the smallest car I could find, but it’s enough to get me and the girls where we need to go, with a little room to spare. Today, Chris suggested I rent an SUV so I’d have more room. (Insert terror…here…).
My new itty bitty baby rental arrives tomorrow. I’ll let you know if I make it past my gate by the end of the day…