I recall taking the coach up from Cauterets to pont de espagne which is one of those twisting torturous narrow roads up into the Pyrenees. My wife insisted on sitting right at the front. This left us in front of the steering wheels and on some of the tight turns we were overhanging the big drops. A bit disconcerting.
It was reassuring though that when the driver boarded the bus, first run after lunch, he had to blow into a breathalyser before the engine would start.
Davy