We are riding our bus through the exceptionally scenic Province of Ragusa, winding our way through a high-hill town, when children in medieval carneval garb started pouring out, completely blocking the street. Our bus, all the traffic, comes to a standstill. The bus driver lays on the horn. The woman sitting next us is outraged “Some of us have to go to work!!!” The bus driver is outraged, letting loose a stream of indignation. The driver honks his horn. Children dressed as bishops, as monks, as nuns, as medieval fancy ladies, as jesters keep flooding the street with their card board shields, and silver lamé chain mail. The driver is OUTRAGED. He jumps off the bus and gets in the face of the traffic cop. Hands are gesturing wildly, with an emphasis on the thumb and four fingers together pulling down. The usual old guys are standing around shooting the shiz, watching it all go down. The driver gives up, pulls over on the next left, circles the town, and we leave the parade behind.
The driver and the traffic cop can’t work it out.