There are no rules on the roads of Rome. It’s every uomo for himself, every pedestrian crosses at their own risk, and yellow dividing lines are meaningless. Criss-crossing lanes, never using signals, running red lights, and going the opposite way down a one-way via (what? I’m only going one way!) are Roman ways of life. They just want to get where they need to go, no matter how many laws they break getting there. Once arrivati, they park wherever they can fit. Scooters are immune to regulations; not even sidewalks are off limits to these headstrong motorists. A morning stroll alongside the Tiber River is always accompanied by the rush-hour soundtrack: infinite horns, loud curses, and a whole lot of yelling and gesticulation. Driving ethics may be at an all time low in Rome, as showing courtesy is considered a weakness, but at least some of them are breaking laws in order to get to work. I once heard a saying about the Italian culture: “Africa ends at the Alps.” Che interessante.