A sweet childhood memory of the Adriatic Sea: the ice cream, the pizza, the rolls – everything different and, yes: better than at home. But all things that you knew from home. On the other hand, these four-wheeled vehicles, red like a fire engine, were allowed to take the wheel as a child and steered them through Bibione or Caorle, if only the parents were busy pedaling – such a pedal car was the coolest thing in the world. An exclusive holiday pleasure for which as a child you left every bike and Kettcar behind.
What one had not yet understood at this age: This is probably why these difficult to accelerate, clunky four-wheeled vehicles were rented to tourists, which, let’s be honest, are something like the preliminary stage of a walker, because the Italian hosts do not trust them to actually ride a bike to have. Because that’s a serious matter south of the Alps.
You only have to take away the enthusiasm of the Italians for their cycling legends like Fausto Coppi or Marco Pantani, to whom they have forgiven everything, doping, drugs, adultery, because they were victorious gamblers in the saddle.
But the matter goes deeper. It not infrequently affects dignity. Italian cinema likes to tell about it. The director Vittorio De Sica won an Oscar in 1950 for “The Bicycle Thieves”. A man’s existence and self-respect depend on finding his stolen bike. In Roberto Benigni’s “Life is Beautiful”, the life of the main Jewish character goes brilliantly as long as he rushes through Arezzo on his bicycle – among other things, he finds his great love by knocking her over. But as soon as he has to dismount, the threat posed by the fascists becomes life-threatening. Don Camillo, on the other hand, is laughed at as he rolls through the streets on a racing bike in priestly robes. His reaction to this mockery is more Old than New Testament in nature.
All of this should be known to anyone who cycles through Italy.