Nervous Italian Tourist holds on for dear life with both hands.

“Groove is in the Heart” is on the radio and the Italian tourists are certain that we’re all going to die. For me, the pace and aggressive passing of Croatian bus drivers is no longer alarming. I’ve been on this route many times. I hope I’m not losing my gratitude as we fly down the coastal road, but I’ve lost that panicky thought that these will be my final moments.

Back at Makarska, the driver sat for a coffee with a remarkable sense of self. He winked at me and smoothed his hair. He flirted with the sixty-year-old waitress. So I don’t clutch at the handles of the seats when we pass the lumber truck, when we pass the wagon and trailer. I don’t look nervously at the guardrail and consider how insufficient it would be to stop a…