Yikes. Being cursed with a pathological fear of rats (I firmly believe each of us gets one irrational fear), this makes me want to skip Rome. Of course, it's not as if I haven't done my time in Third World countries with garbage problems of their own. In Kosovo, medical clinics in Pristina tended to dump their medical waste either on the street or in open containers on the street. Rats were endemic; I just was fortunate enough to not be around when they were. Ick....
I started to type, "I've never been to Italy" (which is true), but then I got distracted when my mind flashed to the Three Dog Night song, "Never Been to Spain." Living inside my head is like being stuck in a small room with someone who has some kind of weird, musical Tourette syndrome.
Anyway, I really just wanted to mention the "Weeping American" PSA. But even before that, the only thing my parents were more adamant about in the car than always buckling our seatbelts (dad had them added after market, because they were never standard back then), was NEVER throwing trash from the car.
I had no idea there was such a garbage problem in Italy. My own European travels (all of which are now long ago, and some of which are REALLY long ago) never took me down into the peninsula, and certainly never encountered anything even remotely as horrifying.
Yikes. Being cursed with a pathological fear of rats (I firmly believe each of us gets one irrational fear), this makes me want to skip Rome. Of course, it's not as if I haven't done my time in Third World countries with garbage problems of their own. In Kosovo, medical clinics in Pristina tended to dump their medical waste either on the street or in open containers on the street. Rats were endemic; I just was fortunate enough to not be around when they were. Ick....
I started to type, "I've never been to Italy" (which is true), but then I got distracted when my mind flashed to the Three Dog Night song, "Never Been to Spain." Living inside my head is like being stuck in a small room with someone who has some kind of weird, musical Tourette syndrome.
Anyway, I really just wanted to mention the "Weeping American" PSA. But even before that, the only thing my parents were more adamant about in the car than always buckling our seatbelts (dad had them added after market, because they were never standard back then), was NEVER throwing trash from the car.
I had no idea there was such a garbage problem in Italy. My own European travels (all of which are now long ago, and some of which are REALLY long ago) never took me down into the peninsula, and certainly never encountered anything even remotely as horrifying.