Heading up or down the hill are the only two ways you can go in San Marino. On the way here, our bus twisted and turned no fewer than 30 times are it ascended towards the historic center. Once we were dropped off, we still had to go up yet another flight of stairs before we reached the tourist office. And then, to get to the hotel that seemed nicest, we had to walk again continually uphill. Of course, the hotel that seemed the nicest was the one furthest up the hill! Seth became Tara's "beast of burden" when she started slowing down under the weight of her pack. He relieved her of her little pack and she could walk for a while more until she started stumbling again. Thankfully, we had by then accidentally passed the hill and as she stumbled, she looked backwards and saw that we'd gone up too far. 

As we passed a parking lot we'd seen an hour ago, we noticed that the fog had gotten even thicker and Seth recalled how Mark, who lived in Italy, would tell him about 75 or 100 car pileups that occured in foggy conditions since the Italian drivers refused to slow down in fog. We could barely see the cars lights 50 feet below us and only the light colored cars were visible at all! We could hear traffic noise though. Whenever we looked over the steep edge of the mountain, we'd see nothing at all but whiteness, but we knew there was something down there since noises wafted up to us out of the white nothingness.