Those Italian Roads Can Really Drive You Crazy

Everything you’ve heard about driving in Italy is probably true. It’s fast, it’s scary and it’s fun--that is, if your idea of fun is clenching the steering wheel and mumbling, “Oh my God, didja see that?” about 10 times an hour. Just kidding. That’s only the first hour. It gets easier with practice.

As we prepared for our third driving trip to Italy last fall, the cast of characters included my serene, guidebook-reading husband Bob and a gray 1990 VW Golf (the European version of the Rabbit) that we named Madison.

Our plan was to drive from Amsterdam to Northern Italy, a distance of about 550 miles, tour the region for a couple of weeks, then drive back. This highway odyssey took us south through the Netherlands into Belgium and Luxembourg, briefly into France, east to Germany, then south through Switzerland and on into Northern Italy.

Madison was capable of traveling 110 m.p.h, which we happily did in limited stretches along the autobahn between Baden-Baden, Germany, and Basel, Switzerland. From Basel, a day and a half after leaving Amsterdam, we crossed over the San Gottard Pass in Switzerland and arrived in Italy, about 10 miles from the lakeside town of Como.

Italy has about 3,750 miles of major highways. The autostrada is Italy’s answer to the German autobahn, but without the unlimited speeds. We usually kept our speedometer at about 80 m.p.h., letting the Italians whip by us if they desired. In Italy, that means acknowledging the flashing lights and honking horns as cars come out of what seems like nowhere to suddenly sit on your rear bumper and practically demand you to move out of the way. We did.

There are two answers to the question, “What is the Italian speed limit?” The legal answer is that the size of your car’s engine determines how fast you can drive, i.e., the larger the engine, the faster you are permitted to drive. The real answer, however, is that the speed limit is whatever Italian drivers are driving--governed by traffic, highway conditions and the Italian temperament.

Speed limits on the autostrada are typically reduced to 50 to 60 m.p.h. near tunnels, bridges, mountains and construction areas. In cities and towns, the limit is about 30 m.p.h.

Great stretches of the autostrada--such as between Milan and Florence, and Milan and Genoa--are masterpieces of civil engineering, with many dimly lit, winding tunnels and bridges, some of which sit precariously near the edge of mountains. Since Madison came equipped with only high beams and parking lights--no low beams--we decided to stay out of the murky tunnels and not drive at night.

Autostradas cost money, sometimes lots of it. You can expect to pay several thousand lira (usually about $1.50; current exchange rate is about 1,230 lira for $1) when you exit the autostrada, and a great deal more--sometimes $10 to $15--on the long stretches between the larger cities, such as between Milan and Florence.

An alternative to the autostrada is the superstrada, one-lane highways that connect most Italian cities. Your journey will take longer and you may get stuck behind a few ponderous trucks along the way, but the price is right. They’re free.

Expect the smaller, rural roads to be teeming with bicycles. Some may even pass you while going uphill. Your driving skills are sure to improve; your disposition may not. The Italian answer is a St. Christopher’s medal on the dashboard.

A word about Italian traffic jams--actually, no suitable word springs to mind.

Consider, for example, the single-lane highway leading along the narrow peninsula from the bustling Italian Riviera resort town of Santa Margherita to Portofino, a mere three or four miles away. The traffic backup is so serious on this stretch during summer weekends that electronic signs have been installed to inform drivers how many hours they can expect to stare at the blue Mediterranean Sea below, before arriving in Portofino.

Knowing this, we nervously gassed up Madison, then, holding our collective breaths, made the short drive in just a few minutes. For us, on a weekday afternoon in September anyway, it was no problema .

Portofino was virtually empty of tourists and cars when we arrived at sunset. By the looks of the harbor, it appeared that the most fashionable way to arrive is by yacht.

Some serious advice on driving in Italy’s larger cities: Be prepared for intimidating traffic, jaywalking pedestrians, bicycles, dogs and vendors, all trying to fit into the narrow streets.

In Florence, near the Ponte Vecchio, we came across a distraught American couple who were stopped in mid-street, literally paralyzed by the swirling masses of people and cars. They were searching for their hotel garage. It’s not impossible to drive in cities, but it helps to have an unflappable husband.

Parking (parcheggio) is not a pleasant subject. There are garages, of course, if you can find them, but be prepared to pay $25 and up a night, even in the smaller cities. Sometimes the better hotels have arrangements for reduced rates at local garages, though these can often be up to half a mile away and still cost between $20 and $30 nightly--hardly a bargain.

We mostly used the more moderately priced municipal parking lots, costing $1-$2 per hour, although spaces can be scarce during market hours or at midday.

Although there are some parking meters, street and lot parking is usually handled by guys with shoulder bags who direct you to a space, write you a ticket and collect your money when you leave. In the towns we visited, municipal parking was free at night.

One other caveat about parking: Many old towns and cities in Italy simply can’t accommodate cars. You can park in municipal lots on the outskirts of town and take whatever form of transportation is available--escalators (Assisi), boats (Venice, Bellagio), funiculars (Gubbio, Bergamo) or that old standby, shoe leather (everyplace else).

As for gas (benzina) , bring plenty of lira. Most rental cars use benzina senza piombo (unleaded gas), which at $1.35 a liter costs more than $5 per gallon. It cost us a cool $55 to fill Madison’s small tank.

To encourage tourism, the Automobile Club Italiano (ACI) offers discount coupons for gas and tolls. These coupons can be purchased at any ACI office, including those in major cities and at border stations. They must be bought with foreign currency. However, the discounts generally amount to only about 15% off a tank of gas, and not all gas stations accept them.

Beware of that most awful of Italian words: chiuso (closed). Gas stations, like most businesses in Italy, open and close at their convenience. Full-service stations--with modern, clean restrooms and snack bars--are conveniently spaced along the autostrada, and are open 24 hours a day, 365 days a year. And unlike those on the New Jersey Turnpike, they serve steaming cappuccino in a ceramic cup for about $1.

Major credit cards are accepted by most but not all gas stations, which means you will probably need cash at some point. Traveler’s checks in dollars need to be changed to lira. However, be warned that exchange offices (cambio) along the autostrada keep limited hours. Large cities such as Florence have machines or exchange offices with longer hours in the railroad stations.

Breakdowns happen. When Madison’s clutch melted under my foot, we lurched into a service station, where the mechanic--after listening to Bob’s slow-fire Italian--called a tow truck. Madison was spirited through the streets of Milan to a VW dealer, and fixed free of charge by one Mr. Magnani, who wished us Godspeed.

Who paid for the work? In our case, the Automobile Club Italiano. Any vehicle with foreign license plates is entitled to unlimited free assistance on highways, including minor roadside repairs and towing for major problems.

In case of an emergency, dial 116 from a highway call box or gas station. In case of an accident, exchange name, address, license plate number and insurance company name and address with the driver of the other car.

Facts you should know before hitting the Italian roads:

--Italy uses international road signs. Pay close attention; we didn’t. This resulted in a nice chat with a young policeman in Bologna.

--Except for the autostrada, most highways are only marked by town names, not route numbers.

--Italian drivers are more enamored of their gas pedals than their brakes.

--Wearing a seat belt is mandatory.

--When passing your car, Italian drivers may come close enough to peel your paint, but they will not clobber you. Probably.

--Helping you to drive and park is an Italian custom born out of necessity. Italy has many small, old streets and limited parking. Between the cars, bicycles, trailers and Vespas, children and pedestrians who ignore the traffic, a burgeoning tourist trade and . . . well, you get the picture. It’s almost a necessity to have someone standing outside the car to give directions. Sometimes you need half the town, which well may show up.

--Become an expert backer-upper, since you’re bound to get yourself in places you shouldn’t be.

--Don’t try to drive to mountaintop attractions reached only by streets seven feet wide and arranged at 90-degree angles. Throwing your weight against the car to keep it from rolling down the mountain while your partner attempts a Y-turn isn’t a good idea.

--There are places where it’s simply best not to drive; they’re hard enough to walk. Florence and Milan come to mind. Driving in a congested town such as Bellagio, on Lake Como, is definitely a supreme challenge. If your car rolls to a stop, you’re done, finito . Pedestrians will walk over your car, grass will grow. You’re better off taking a boat.

--Don’t drive in Venice. As the late humorist Robert Benchley reported some years back, the streets are full of water. The only parking is on the outskirts, in expensive monster garages that are often reserved in advance. However, a tip to the parking attendant can often do wonders to open up space.

--Don’t drive in cities that are hosting festivals. Two examples are Assisi at Easter and Siena during Palio, the awesome ceremonial horse race held on July 2 and Aug. 16 each year.

--When in Rome . . . well, just don’t.

GUIDEBOOK

Driving in Italy

Renting a car: You’ll need a valid U.S. driver’s license, your passport and a major credit card. The international driver’s license, which is available at AAA offices for $10, is required for driving rental cars in Italy.

Expect to get a car with a stick shift, unless you’ve spent a lot of extra lira and reserved an automatic. Air-conditioned cars are hard to find.

Hertz, Avis, Budget and other less-expensive car rental companies such as Auto Europe have offices at airports and in large cities. Each has different rates, methods of payment and insurance requirements.

It’s usually best to reserve and prepay in the United States, especially given the recent exchange rates. The Italian value-added tax (VAT) is 15%.

What to bring: A good map, an Italian/English dictionary and a guide to international road signs. Map and travel stores carry all three. We used Michelin maps; Rand McNally is also good.

For more information: Highly recommended reading is the booklet “Italia--General Information for Travelers to Italy.” It is available free from the Italian Government Travel Office, 360 Post St., Suite 801, San Francisco 94108, (415) 392-6206.

Also recommended: “Hachette Guide to Italy.” The last edition of this book was printed in 1988, but it’s still our favorite guidebook. Extensive street maps of cities, lists of hotels and restaurants, helpful hints about history, customs, culture and festivals. “Baedeker’s Italy” and the “Michelin Green Guide: Italy” are both useful.