Get­ting up to speed with Ital­ian job

Rain fails to dampen the ex­cite­ment and the thrill of a night-time jour­ney from Bologna to Maranello

Weekend Argus (Saturday Edition) - - GOODDRIVING -

of my foot on the ac­cel­er­a­tor, some­times edgy corner­ing mak­ing the rear twitch again and again on the in­un­dated road. Street lights, shop lights and over­head sign lights re­flected from the glis­ten­ing tar. Here and there a skulk­ing fig­ure wrapped in rain­wear ducked in and out of the rain, head drawn in be­tween shoul­ders. Here and there a sod­den cat flashed across the road, forc­ing my foot to lift off and reach for the brake pedal.

Then, sud­denly, things be­came some­what fa­mil­iar. I slowed a bit to make sure. In­deed.

Then I flashed past that fa­mous gate, that fa­mous restau­rant. The pi­azza hove into view. On its far side, the lit­tle ho­tel.

As I stum­bled wearily in through the doors with my pack on my back, a fa­mil­iar, friendly face lit up be­hind the counter.

“Meester Du Plessee, wel­come back,” she ex­claimed. “Una bibita fresca?” It was one of the nicest drives I had ever done.


NO WAY: Even on a sunny day, nar­row streets are a chal­lenge, es­pe­cially when pub­lic trans­port gets in the way.

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