And so off we went. Driving in other countries doesn't normally bother me. But almost instantly in the Dominican Republic, I was grasping the wheel, sweating. This is because the Dominicans are, as I quickly found out, absolutely horrible drivers.
I should remind you that I am also in a very good mood. The new prospect of driving across the country opens up unimaginable exploration that we hadn't intended. I had read about, sketched and studied the endemic reptiles and birds of Hispaniola for months; I wanted to see the high mountain pine forest anyway.
But the longer we drive, the quicker my desire to look for a hispaniolan parrot gives way to pure, mad concentration. The Dominicans are driving on their mopeds and tiny little cars as if this is the last day of their lives.
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