There are cars in Venice?
Yes. And I got hit by one under quite embarrassing circumstances. Luckily, my body is made from pure titanium so I was not, in fact, harmed in any way. Except for my dignity, ego and self respect. Rest in peace, ability to r.e.s.p.e.c.t. me.
So we had been travelling by bus from Rome through to Austria (I recommend- its such a nice trip through the mountains- especially in winter) and we had a brief “FIVE MINUTES ONLY!!” break to get some food. And I thought to myself- the Golden Gates, the thing that makes me go mmm. McDonalds. In Australia its simply called, Maccas. Bloody oath.
Anyway, I was extremely aware of the conflicting situation I had at hand: limited time frame versus need for McChicken. I was carrying a number of heavy bags on both shoulders but thought to myself, c’mon Sophie, now is your chance to prove to everyone just what you’re made of. You’re gonna make it.
I start sprinting towards my target. And I look right, and unfortunately for me, I was not in Australia and cars are on opposite sides in Europe. I start making my way across the road, see the incoming car just one moment before I slip a fall with it colliding with me, bag-laden-Maccas-crazed lady.
The crowds on the streets give a collective “OAAAHHHHH!!!” as does the poor Italian middle-aged man who hit me. Climbing out from under the hood of this Italian Sedan, I leap to my feet, completely flabbergasted yet still entirely focused on the end game.
I continue on my way, walk through the doors and realise…no time. Better head back.
note: this is the same trip where we had the lucky experience of coming face to face with our very first *public wanker in a bus station also in Italy
*term up to interpretation and does sound like what it is, is what it is.
Oh Venice, you beautiful thing, you.