I did it. I survived my first day at the wheel in Bucharest. I volunteered to drive for Ava's field trip, so the night before, I took the car out for a spin to familiarize myself with the car and with the art of the infamous roundabout. Traffic is not so bad at 11 o'clock pm, and I had no problems as I looped back and forth between the arc de triumph and de Gaulle roundabouts. Turns out more parents were able to drive than they needed, so I was prepared for nothing . . . or so I thought.
Later, that evening, Chad was stuck at work, so I took the plunge and armed with the GPS, headed downtown to dance class. I got through two major roundabouts without anyone honking at me, and thought I was home free until Ms. GPS told me to turn left at a signal with no left turn. Rats! Then, like the parting of the Red Sea, all three lanes of oncoming traffic stopped just as I was entering the intersection. I seized my miracle, quickly turned and arrived unscathed at my destination. Let's rock 'n' roll!
This may seem like a minor victory, but you just don't know how they drive here. I was so pleased with my accomplishment, I shared it with one of my Romanian dance colleagues, who was equally impressed with my feat: she doesn't drive here at all because she is too afraid!
(I let Chad drive home.)
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