At 23, I decided to move to Italy and become a nanny. No, it wasn’t because I love children. I simply saw an adventure to take advantage of before I became old and boring (i.e., over 30). I still can’t fathom how a smart, assertive, overly self-protective girl could end up in so many high-risk scenarios while overseas.
The most harrowing happened in Venice.
I spoke passable Italian (it has since slipped my mind after becoming old and boring) and was enjoying a lovely lunch while poring over a walking map of Venice, attempting to route the shortest distance from the cafe to a local cathedral.
In Venice, that can be quite a feat — much like navigating a human-sized mouse maze. My waiter stopped and asked where I was trying to get to.