Paris Au Printemps: Traffic

I love driving in Paris. Everybody drives like myself. Like a complete maniac.

Driving in Paris is not about getting from A to B. It is about getting from A to B as fast as possible.

I rented a really fast 2.0 TDI at CDG and I drive really, really fast. The diesel engine roars, when I rev up at every intersection. Everyday I try to go even faster through different routes through the City. I am flying through street corners and speeding like a race car down the Avenues of Paris. However, the local drivers seem to find little 'holes' in the traffic I didn't see, and are able to sneak any car, not only the Smart ones, in between the anarchic rows of buzzing cars. And remember, that we are constantly attacked and surrounded by motorcycles and scooters, humming around you like a pack of killer mega-bees. Having driven around for a week now, I do however manage to close most of the holes and myself sneak into directions and lanes of traffic, a regular car driver would not have anticipated. Here, in Paris, we are all in sync with our inner Alain Prost.

My girlfriend doesn't want to drive with me anymore. I don't care. I want to be the fastest. I want to be faster!

I have gasoline in my blood. Jesus' blood never failed me yet.

[Tomorrow: Report from "The DaVinci Code" premiere in Paris.]