Driving Across Rome - Is It Possible? by Simon Heptinstall

They said that no outsider could drive right across Rome from one side to the other during the rush hour. They said that the Italian capital’s ancient road labyrinth, impassable traffic jams and maniacal drivers are simply too much for any foreigner. I set out to prove them wrong...

To tackle Rome’s side-to-side challenge, the team had to be carefully selected. Our task was to achieve a crossing of the Eternal City in something less than an eternity. In fact we only had a few hours...

So the driver would be me, Simon Heptinstall, a road-hardened taxi-driver turned motoring journalist and holder of the world’s daftest motoring record – managing to drive to 12 countries in one day. The car was a nippy new Peugeot 107 hatchback. Would one of the world’s best city cars be able to conquer one of the world’s worst cities to drive in?

I had a blunt introduction to what’s normal road behaviour in Rome when I took a taxi from the airport to collect the car from a local dealer.

On the way, our cabbie told me, as we dawdled in four lanes of crawling traffic: “Rome’s traffic is fun!” He turned right round in his seat, ignoring the direction we were moving, flexed his hairy arms boastfully and explained: “Me, I’ve been trained to drive anywhere.” And he mysteriously confided: “I’ve been to Portsmouth you know.”

He then demonstrated his prowess by powering down an empty hard shoulder, taking a high-speed shortcut through a service station forecourt and pulling back into the traffic without looking. I didn’t think he learnt to drive like that in Portsmouth.

Luckily I survived and reached the sanctuary of the glamorous Peugeot garage. Unfortunately for me, it is based alongside Rome’s hectic ring road – a 24-hour horning torrent of cars, vans and motorbikes.

At first I hid behind the palm trees in their car park as the traffic snarled and roared a few yards away. But once I’d settled into the snug little car, I started to feel better and checked over its weaponry for the jam-busting battles ahead. Never mind the top speed or fuel economy, what were the brakes and steering like? And most importantly, how much crash protection is there?

Eventually I felt confident to leave the garage forecourt. I bravely slipped into gear... and pulled out into six lanes of madness.

Rome has recently been voted the world’s number one city to visit by readers of prestigious travel magazine Conde Naste Traveller. Everyone knows that the Eternal City of emperors, popes, kings and dictators is packed with unique historic attractions. The Ancient Romans left amazing relics behind, like the Colosseum and Forum, the Renaissance added fabulous statues and palaces, and the Catholic church’s wealth helped create treasures of the Vatican like St Peter’s and the Sistine Chapel.

When you’re strolling Rome’s venerable streets it seems you find fabulous old churches, stunning art collections or delightful piazzas around every corner. And it’s easy to relax at a pavement café under the trees in a cobbled square around an elegant trickling fountain. Add in fabulous shopping, restaurants, music and a special atmosphere of fun, indulgence and eccentricity and you have all the ingredients for a memorable short break.

But as a road network, Rome is a much less attractive proposition. It could be Europe’s worst driving city. Tourists never try. Even Italians from other cities baulk at attempting routes that can change from a narrow potholed cobbled alleyway to high-speed dual-carriageway – and back – in a few hundred yards. Rome’s notorious one-way system is not only indecipherably complex, it changes regularly - a lot more regularly than its arrows and signs. Maps are out of date before they’re printed.

And there are traffic lights everywhere. Some only apply to cars, some just to trams. Hordes of scooters and motorbikes appear at rush hour and obey no rules whatsoever. No wonder almost every car in Rome bears the scars of numerous scrapes and bumps. As a final complication, different areas of the city become resident-only zones or pedestrianised at different times of day. Cameras monitor traffic and if you’re spotted in the wrong street at the wrong time there’s an immediate £120 fine.

To start with I did well, crawling along the jammed ring road. I was getting used to the mad gesticulations and aggressive revving of the locals, the bikes swerving between the cars against the stream of traffic and the impeccably dressed pedestrians, calmly strolling across three lanes of capital city traffic seemingly oblivious the presence of any vehicles at all.

I turned off the ring road across the centre of the city, aiming to cross the River Tiber somewhere within the sturdy Roman city walls and head for our hotel far out on the east side of the city. But I got lost almost immediately.

For miles I drove aimlessly down streets where washing flapped from balconies high above or along tree-lined boulevards where colourful markets spilled onto the road. Once I had to swerve to avoid hitting a man casually pushing a trolley of wine bottles right across a hectic junction. Another time I squeezed the car between some busy restaurant tables and a group of women chatting in the road, ignoring the motoring mayhem around them.

I may have been driving in circles but I was beginning to have fun. I was nipping through gaps I’d normally fear, sneaking across junctions using my horn and mysterious hand signs, weaving across lanes like the locals. Well they do say, ‘when in Rome, do as the Romans do...’

Somehow I luckily got caught in a lane that crossed the river. I weaved and twisted through the little roads of the city centre, passing the stunning floodlit Colosseum as darkness fell. A few minutes later, thanks to another wrong turn, we passed the stunning Colosseum again – this time determined to head in the right direction. I was running with the flow – traffic heading north out of the city. And by luck I found the right road.

By now I was not just a local, I was an expert local - a driverissimma. I’d pull away from lights first, sending mopeds buzzing for cover in all directions. I’d zoom past dawdling buses. I’d use my horn more than my brakes. I’d drive with one arm out the window, permanently warning passing pedestrians not to step out.

A few minutes later we were parked outside our hotel. In every way, I felt I’d arrived in Rome. Exhausted by hours of effort, it felt like I’d achieved the impossible. Rome may not have been built in a day but it was certainly crossed in a couple of hours.