We met friends from Australia in Salt Lake City and traveled north to Wyoming and then west to Lake Tahoe. This involved 2 rental cars. Ruth and I, thinking that that they would surely rent a smaller car, contracted for a Yaris. We went to the motel to meet them. John and Trish were happily celebrating their vehicle upgrade. They were in a behemoth. For the next week or so we chased them through Yellowstone National Park, the Grand Tetons, and across Nevada. We could not even pass a truck on an Interstate because our underpowered and small Yaris could simply not do it. John and Trish fell into the habit of pulling over to wait for us to catch up. It became both frustrating and funny.
We boarded a ferry to Newfoundland. Ruth waited in the car while our son and I went to play games and have a snack. We heard a sailing announcement and re-boarded, looking for our car but not finding it. Some instinct told me there was something wrong, so I asked a worker when we were leaving. He said any second now. We were on the wrong ferry and about to leave on a 17 hour crossing to St. Johns, not a 3 to 4 hour fast trip to Newfoundland’s southwest corner. The man helped us to climb through a porthole onto the dock, and we quickly found the correct ferry and Ruth waiting.
Ruth & I rented a car from National in Mestre near Venice and drove to the country of San Marino. Back in Mestre, which is one-third the size of sister city Venice, with only minutes to spare before the rental car was due back, we were lost. But then I spied metro tracks and remembered that the tram passed the rental agency. We followed the tracks and came right to it on time. The man in charge was so surprised, and I suspect disappointed to see us, that he was surly. Probably amazed that we had not had an accident, he made me sign an official-looking document that I had not seen before or since. Reluctantly, I did it and we went on to Venice.