Italian Road Trip ... again

[Owain]

Thanks for tips, chaps!

Concarneau, Pont Aven.

I've been to both, but it was 30 years ago!

Second all of that, and would add the megaliths at Carnac too. For bucket and spade seaside fun there's Bénodet.

I'm not sure I've been to either of these places. I don't do buckets and spades, but Jess is a swimmer, so...

[Chris Bertram]

Second all of that, and would add the megaliths at Carnac too. For bucket and spade seaside fun there's Bénodet.

I'm not sure I've been to either of these places. I don't do buckets and spades, but Jess is a swimmer, so...

Locronan is a famed beauty spot with a church that is a place of pilgrimage to St Ronan. Quimper has some decent eateries and the local cathedral with its rather bent floor plan.

[mapboy]

Locronan is a famed beauty spot with a church that is a place of pilgrimage to St Ronan. Quimper has some decent eateries and the local cathedral with its rather bent floor plan.

As Chris mentioned, if you do have the urge to go to the beach, Bénodet is the place to go. I can also endorse the suggestions of Locronan and Quimper, which is a very attractive little city.

If you fancy regressing a little and just burning off some energy, Parc d'Odet Loisirs near Quimper is a good place to go - it's a family based outdoor attraction but you might find a nice break from all the driving!

I fear if we give you any more recommendations, you'll never get back from Finistère!

[KeithW]

I don't want to tell you but it is one of my favourite films. I watched it the other night and got all dewy eyed about driving my Blue McFoo on this road....
Unlike many of my favourite films, there are no Rover P6s in it.

The Blue McFoo would attract a lot of attention in Italy.

While driving the 75 I've had:

- the owner of what is probably the only 75 in France(!) toot at me and give the thumbs up.

- a group of old men sitting by the roadside slap their thighs and say "ma guarda!" (ah, look at that!) as I drove by

- a really cool looking guy in an Alfa Brera wind down his window and stick his head to get a good view of the car while we were stuck in traffic

- a family at the ferry port have a whole argument about whether it was a Jaguar or a Rover

- a group of Italian schoolboys shout "che bella macchina!" (what a beautiful car) .... although that happened in Lancaster!

That stuff don't usually happen in Britain. Rovers still have a good reputation in Italy, which is one of the reasons I've loved driving mine around that country so much. Your P6s would go down a treat.

I drove my 75 to Tuscany in 2004 and several Italians came over and admired it asking why it wasn't marketed more effectively there.
En route I did see a couple of Swiss registered 75's around the Interlaken area and I know there was a German Rover 75 owners club.

[Owain]

I drove my 75 to Tuscany in 2004 and several Italians came over and admired it asking why it wasn't marketed more effectively there.
En route I did see a couple of Swiss registered 75's around the Interlaken area and I know there was a German Rover 75 owners club.

Well, I've just booked Harwich-Hook of Holland as an outbound trip, and Zeebrugge-Hull for the return.

The trip should see us pass through Holland-Germany-Austria-Slovenia-Croatia-Italy-France-Monaco-Spain-Andorra-Belgium.

My mum's comment just now: "Is your car up to this, love?"

[multiraider2]

Came back from Italy yesterday. Time was limited by half term, so had to go on the plane and rent a car from Naples to drive to the Amalfi Coast. It did take me a while to get used to Italian driving again and the coast road does take some nerve. Too narrow for a centre line in most places but teeming with traffic including coaches and buses and pedestrians in the road with no space for a pavement. When you meet a large vehicle on a bend you really need to know you car width. Most Italian drivers are in a hurry and you could sense the nervousness of tourists with rented cars. The locals would get where they wanted quicker though if they actually waited at an obstruction/narrowing, so that one side could go and then the other. But they won't do that unless forced.

[bothar]

I was in Sicily for 10 days and had a car for the middle part of the trip. Sicily is probably a bit less "structured" in terms of signposts, roadmarkings etc than places further north. The twisty roads and towns with a 12th century layout you pretty much expect, although the towns are a real pain as you get into a one way system and have to go all around town. My Garmin gave me dodgy advice on serveral occasions and didn't have all the speed limits. I was suprised that some of the out of town speed limits were rather low, with 50 Kmh common enough and even 30. It seems that any white line was accompanied by a no overtaking sign and a 50 speed limit. This meant that I wasn't totally respectful of Il Presidente's advice to respect the speed limits, although I am not among the fastest drivers.

This is one example, first a 70 sign which is low enough for a decent road on an E route, then almost immediately afterwards one of these 50 and no overtaking signs.

Generally Italy is notable for the amount of Armco on every road and the raised viaducts and tunnels, something that would not be considered in Britain or Ireland. It is also notable for GSJs on S2 roads, which would not be common in Britain, perhaps slightly less so in Ireland.

[Owain]

I was suprised that some of the out of town speed limits were rather low, with 50 Kmh common enough and even 30. It seems that any white line was accompanied by a no overtaking sign and a 50 speed limit. This meant that I wasn't totally respectful of Il Presidente's advice to respect the speed limits, although I am not among the fastest drivers.

This is one example, first a 70 sign which is low enough for a decent road on an E route, then almost immediately afterwards one of these 50 and no overtaking signs.

I think we've got our wires crossed there! My advice is to ignore the speed limits, because many are exaggeratedly low and the Italians don't pay any attention to them. I think in towns they are fair enough, but there are countless rural 50s and 70s that go on for kilometres - like the one you describe; if everyone obeyed those, they'd never get anywhere.

[bothar]

I think we've got our wires crossed there! My advice is to ignore the speed limits, because many are exaggeratedly low and the Italians don't pay any attention to them. I think in towns they are fair enough, but there are countless rural 50s and 70s that go on for kilometres - like the one you describe; if everyone obeyed those, they'd never get anywhere.

I think you observed sometime that the locals knew where the cameras were, but that visitors would not. One of the most pleasant parts of my drive was the approach to Agrigento on the D2 Strada extraurbana principale (cat. B) aka superstrada, this was welcome not only after the twisty roads but also the earlier section of this road which was under construction and had many diversions and cones. No doubt on this type of road you might be tempted to sink the welly and perhaps trigger a camera.

[Owain]

I think we've got our wires crossed there! My advice is to ignore the speed limits, because many are exaggeratedly low and the Italians don't pay any attention to them. I think in towns they are fair enough, but there are countless rural 50s and 70s that go on for kilometres - like the one you describe; if everyone obeyed those, they'd never get anywhere.

I think you observed sometime that the locals knew where the cameras were, but that visitors would not. One of the most pleasant parts of my drive was the approach to Agrigento on the D2 Strada extraurbana principale (cat. B) aka superstrada, this was welcome not only after the twisty roads but also the earlier section of this road which was under construction and had many diversions and cones. No doubt on this type of road you might be tempted to sink the welly and perhaps trigger a camera.

There are quite a few cameras in northern Italy, but hardly any in the south or on the islands.

Your chances of encountering a camera in Sicily must be about the same as triggering one in Sardinia: almost zero. The greater danger is a dark blue Alfa Romeo with a red stripe down the side, accompanied by a very sharply dressed officer smoking a cigarette.

[bothar]

Your chances of encountering a camera in Sicily must be about the same as triggering one in Sardinia: almost zero. The greater danger is a dark blue Alfa Romeo with a red stripe down the side, accompanied by a very sharply dressed officer smoking a cigarette.

I did notice such a vehicle loitering in a layby.

I think that self driving cars will be in California before they work in Sicily.

[Owain]

This year's adventure was intended to be another drive down the full length of Italy; having made it to the heel and back last year, I wanted this year to drive to the toe. However, the expense of buying a new house a few months ago - and the resultant assault on my finances - led me to abandon this plan, and have a cheap holiday (i.e. a return ferry ticket and a couple of tanks of fuel) in my parents' house in Brittany instead. There was just one problem with this sensible plan: France is not Italy, and I find it hard to be on the same piece of land as my favourite country without driving there. So, having driven the length of Italy last time, this time I resolved to drive the width of it at the widest point (which isn't really very far). And I decided that I might as well factor in a few other countries as well.

Jessica flew to Leeds, and we drove down to Harwich the same day. Thanks to Stenaline, we took the overnight ferry to the Hook of Holland. This was a very pleasant crossing, but disembarkation was a much less enjoyable experience, as the surprisingly slow Dutch border police took an hour to process the queue of traffic as far as us; I'd imagine the last people off the boat would have been waiting for over two hours! I don't think I'll go that way again.

What was particularly annoying about it was the fact that I'd decided to break our journey to Italy with an overnight stop in Liechtenstein, meaning that we had quite a distance to cover before bedtime. I'm not particularly good at thinking (or caring) about distances, but was something like 600 miles, using (NL)A12-(D)A3-A7-A96-(A)A14-190-191. We were finally released onto the roads of the Netherlands - where I hadn't been for over 20 years - at around 9am. Thankfully, it was Sunday, so we were able to make good progress, and we felt confident enough to make an early stop for an early lunch: a couple of Italian-style wraps (spianate). I went for salmon while Jess had the chicken. We were both very impressed by the friendliness and helpfulness of the staff in the Dutch service area. I would have taken a photo of them (the wraps, not the staff) but this is probably of greater sabristic interest.

We crossed the border into Germany at around 11am, and that was where the journey changed. I had been relishing the prospect of driving on a road with no speed limits, but the conditions did not allow me much fun. To begin with, it started to rain. This became heavy as we headed south-eastward, and I was surprised at how many German drivers didn't seem to care about the spray or standing water. Soon enough, we passed a massive smash that had caused an emergency helicopter to be landed on the opposite carriageway, and several wrecked cars surrounded by a dozen emergency vehicles. Jess said it looked very grave (I don't look), and the traffic on the other side was queued up to the next exit, where it was being directed off.

That made for a rather grim start to our trip, and I have to say that after the rain eased off I was quite disappointed by the standard of German driving. Previously, I have only driven along the Rhine on the A5, which was a very civilised experience. The A3 through the Westphalian conurbation was much the opposite; I like to cruise at 90mph, but traffic was heavy and I rarely found myself in the outside lane, where a great many drivers seemed to enjoy tailgating each other at speeds well over 100. The worst thing I saw was a pair of drivers in chavved-up Audis disputing ownership of the outside lane at what I'd estimate to be around 120; I don't like to stereotype people, but when people behave like stereotypes it is difficult to avoid it. These two idiots were totally wreckless, Herr WeißAudi chasing Herr SchwartzAudi at few yards' distance and threatening to undertake, whereupon the lead driver gave his rival a brake test. I've seen a lot of dreadful driving in Britain, but rarely anything so deliberately dangerous, and never anything at that speed.

Things improved considerably after we'd passed Frankfurt, with its airport that appears to straddle the Autobahn, and where you can see planes queued up in descent which look almost like they'll be landing on the same strip of tarmac as the traffic. Impressive stuff.

We had a few short stops in German service areas - some much nicer than others - before joining the A7 for the South. Here I gained the best impression of how the architects of the Autobahn network conceived the whole projectin the 1930s. I've spent much of my career teaching the history of Nazi Germany, and it was a deliberate policy of Hitler to have to Autobahnen carved through some of Germany's most beautiful countryside in order to try to instil a love of the Heimat (the homeland) into the minds of new generations of Germans, newly mobilised by the KdF Wagen (better known to us as the Beetle). The A7 did a good job of showing us how attractive southern Germany is, as we feel encouraged to spend more time in the country in future.

As the traffic thinned out, and with the weather now fine, I was able to crack a perfectly legal 110mph out of my 13-year-old Rover 75. We reached the A96 in good time, only I missed the exit thanks to some awkwardly-positioned traffic cones in a slip road (prompting a split second decision to attempt to make the exit or continue straight ahead and return to the A7). I turned back at the next exit, picked up the A96, and headed towards the Alps.

The rain returned, and while I eased off, many Germans did not. At more leisurely pace, we reached the Austrian border. I'd never been to Austria before, and I didn't realise their Autobahnen are tolled! The warnings caused me to turn off at the border and follow the ordinary roads down past the Bodensee to Feldkirch, whereupon we turned towards Liechtenstein and reached our hotel at around 10pm. It was only when we woke the following morning that we found out how beautiful Liechtenstein happens to be.

[Comstock]

No, I didn't realise Austria tolled the motorways.

Is it toll booths like France, or Vingette like Switzerland or ANPR like Dartford?

You are very brave driving at 110 on the 'wrong' side of the road. As I said on our recent daytrip, stick me in the middle of London, no worries, but stick me on the 'wrong' side of the road and I'd sh*t myself! If I ever go abroad again I'll be parking at Ebbsfleet or the ferry port.

[Alderpoint]

No, I didn't realise Austria tolled the motorways.
Is it toll booths like France, or Vingette like Switzerland or ANPR like Dartford?

VIgnette mostly. Some passes/tunnels have separate tolls (Arlberg, Tauern, Karawanken, and Brenner that I know of) where you don't need a vignette provided you only travel the separately-tolled section.

Motorways in Slovenia are also tolled with a Vignette.

[Comstock]

A trip from London to Zagreb could get quite pricey then. 3 vinigettes required

[Owain]

No, I didn't realise Austria tolled the motorways.

Is it toll booths like France, or Vingette like Switzerland or ANPR like Dartford?

We faced a dilemma as to whether we should drive through Switzerland or Austria to get to Italy. Both operate a vignette system, and I didn't fancy getting ripped off by the Swiss (who'll charge you for a whole year's permit, and charge you even more if you pay in euros rather than Swiss francs by using a rate of €1 = CHF1, which it doesn't). Nor did I fancy attempting to buy a 10-day vignette (€8.90) from the Austrians, because my German is non-existent. However, using the ordinary roads through either Switzerland (mountains) or Austria (frequent towns) threatened to take too long. Fuel - and diesel in particular - is cheap in Austria, so we left Liechtenstein and stopped at the first filling station on the road to Feldkirch. Like a tourist numpty, I stopped at the truck pump, which had an oversized nozzle, but I successfully filled my 66-litre take to the brim without spilling a drop or spraying myself. The guy on the kiosk was very friendly, so I asked for a "zehn tag zoll vignette für die Autobahnen", and he duly obliged by punching holes in the ticket to show the date of issue. I stuck it on my windscreen next to my expired 2015 Swiss vignette.

We took the S16 expressway; not a motorway, but a high-quality dual carriageway for which the vignette is required. The runs along a very scenic valley to Innsbruck, and we made good progress as far as Stuben, where a lengthy tunnel was closed for maintenance work. I was glad it was, because this obliged us to take the old pass over the mountains. The built-up hairpins can be seen above the town.

This was an experience which began with a traffic jam caused by a crash. An Austrian girl was trying to get the road cleared so that a truck we were stuck behind could negotiate the first hairpin. Once that was done, we negotiated the broken glass (surely not a problem for my fat Michelin snow tyres, which have been on the car for two years, and through all seasons) and wound our way in convoy up the mountain on route 197. On the other side, we rejoined the motorway - now the A12 - for Innsbruck. Here we turned right, and followed the A13 up to the famous Brenner Pass. Oddly, most of the cars seemed quite tentative about using the outside lane to pass the long convoy of trucks making their way up into the mountains. One German in a smart new Passat even backed out of a pass, after which I lost my patience and pegged it to the 130kph limit to the top. The only car that came with me was Italian.

We stopped for coffee at the services on the Austro-Italian border. Entering Italy is always the most exciting moment on my continental drives, and on this occasion we did so with a real sense of history accompanying up. The lands to the south of the Alps, the Süd Tirol/Alto Adige, are mainly German-speaking, but were won by Italy at the end of the First World War. The idea was to secure for the country a natural rather than cultural border at the high point of the Alps, and there are several visible fortifications that were built by the Fascist regime to protect Italy from a German attack in the years leading up to the Second World War. In 1943 these were useless against the Nazi war machine, which invaded Italy after its capitulation to the Allies after the fall of Mussolini.

At Jessica's request, we left the A22 autostrada near Bressanone/Brixen, and followed the ss49 through some lovely Alpine countryside with unmistakably Italian architecture, the cultural Germanness notwithstanding, to Dobbiaco/Toblach. Here we entered the Italian Dolomites, distictive jagged tooth-like mountains on the ss51. This road is an amazing drive, which would have been ever better without the presence ahead of an Italian Audi SUV which was driven in old-woman style through the curves but maxxed out on the few straights for fear of being passed (see Numpty overload, p.636). My frustration at this staggering dumb and inconsiderate behaviour was soon alleviated by a brief stop at a sublime lake.

[Picture posted below]

From here, we drove down through the scenic ski resort of Cortina d'Ampezzo, after which we picked up the A27 autostrada, and its sister the A28, to head to our accommodation on a large commercial vineyard about halfway between Venice and Trieste.

[Alderpoint]

A trip from London to Zagreb could get quite pricey then. 3 vinigettes required

You don't need a Swiss vignette to go to Zagreb unless you are taking the scenic route and the Austrian and Slovenia vignette you can get for short periods (7/10 days) so will cost about €30 inc the Karawanken tunnel. Also you'll need to pay the toll for the motorway in Croatia which I think is less than €1 from the Slovenian border to Zagreb.

The Swiss vignette isn't really that expensive (CHF40) when for that you can go back and forth through the Gottard tunnel as many times you want, whereas if you go into Italy from France via the Mt.Blanc or Frejus tunnels it will cost you about that for a single trip - although they do a decent discount for a return within a week.

[Comstock]

Yeah, I was trying to invent an imaginary but not totally unrealistic journey requiring all three vinigettes. I failed.

Even Paris to Zagreb appears quicker thru Germany according to Google Maps.

[Owain]

Here's the pic of the ss51 through the Dolomites, which I forget to include above:

The first place we stayed in Italy was a large commercial vineyard about halfway between Venice and Trieste. I have their loyalty card now, after buying four cases of their very reasonably-priced red (Cabernet; Schioppettino) and white (Pinot Grigio; Friulano) wines. This proved to be a good base for visiting Trieste, a city that was part of the Austro-Hungarian empire until 1919. Apparently, James Joyce compared Trieste with Dublin, but it reminded me a little bit of Londonderry, by being part of a one state that is hemmed in by a close border that separates it from its natural hinterland, which is part of another.

We spent a great day in the city, which can be reached from the end of the A4 autostrada (which I have now driven in its entirety) via the scenic ss14, the old road that hugs the coast. At one point on this route, there is a short tunnel cut out of the rock in primitive fashion, and some of the local drivers like to give a little toot on their horns as they drive through. Whether that is superstition or the Italian sense of humour, I don't know. The picture without me in it might feature in Sabre's Photo of the Month competition at some point.

A trip from London to Zagreb could get quite pricey then. 3 vinigettes required

You don't need a Swiss vignette to go to Zagreb unless you are taking the scenic route and the Austrian and Slovenia vignette you can get for short periods (7/10 days) so will cost about €30 inc the Karawanken tunnel. Also you'll need to pay the toll for the motorway in Croatia which I think is less than €1 from the Slovenian border to Zagreb.

The fact that Slovenian motorways are tolled is something that I discovered during my day of unwitting vandalism in the country. Feeling all European in the current climate of Brexit, I couldn't resist being so close to Slovenia without going there. The region of Istria was also of interest to me on account of it having been a part of Italy from 1919 to 1954; the Italian ss14 originally ran to Rijeka/Fiume, while the ss15 ran from Trieste to Koper/Capo d'Istria and Pola, but both roads were truncated when the border was changed in the aftermath of the Second World War.

I had hoped to follow the advice of Sabristi as posted above, by driving the unpronounceable Vršiška Pass in the north of the country, but being on a fairly hectic schedule we just didn't have the time. We opted instead to follow the Italian coast through the lovely little fishing village of Muggia, where we stopped for coffee, before spending a day in Koper/Capo d'Istria and Izola, if only to see how Italian they were. We followed the sp14 around the coast, and entered Slovenia at the disused border post. The landscape is almost Italian, and much of the signage is bilingual with Slovenian first and Italian second. We felt quite at home. After enjoying a Slovenian beer in the incredibly quiet main square at Koper, a relaxing and happy afternoon wandering around the town, we picked up a selection of Slovenian wines (which are made from the same grape varieties as those common in North-Eastern Italy) and broke the ticket machine in the car park where we'd stopped. This was certainly not intentional, but when I attempted to use the machine I was confounded by the fact that it was the only thing in Koper that did not appear to be bilingual. Without any picture guidance or a language I could understand, I ended up mistakenly putting my parking ticket into what turned out to be the credit card slot; a slot which often takes both the parking ticket and your credit card on machines in the UK, France and Italy. This turned out to be the wrong place to stick it, and once inserted it wouldn't give it back to me. I pressed what appeared to be a 'Call for Help' button, which charged me €15 for a couple of hours' stay, presumably on the basis that I'd lost my ticket (which I had, sort of, because the credit card slot had eaten it). I used banknotes to pay the penalty fare, shrugging my shoulders because Slovenia is a nice country, we'd had a nice day, and bought some very affordable wine. After paying my €15, we were given a ticket with a barcode, which Jessica scanned at the barrier to gain us an exit from the car park. Only later did it dawn on me that because my shredded parking ticket was jammed in the machine's credit card slot, the machine would have been effectively out of action until someone from the council came to empty it. I felt bad about this, but if it had had pictures on it, or been bilingual like almost everything else in Koper, I would have understood how to use it. I'm sorry to any Slovenians who had their afternoon ruined by the parking ticket machine being put out of action by a clumsy tourist.

I was then numpty for the second time that day, by driving to Croatia by accident. We headed out of Koper without looking at a map, and never found the seaside town of Izola. Slovenia's coastline is so short that we ended up at the controlled border within minutes, and once we'd joined the queue at passport control I figured that the most suspicious thing we could do would be execute a U-turn. Plus, being that close to Croatia, we figured we might as well go there.

We enjoyed a very quiet drive through beautiful scenery on Croatia's route 21 and route 44, throughout which I felt like I was in Italy, apart from the different road markings and absence of any traffic. At Buzet, we turned back towards Slovenia, and passed through the quietest passport control I've ever seen near Sočerga. If I wasn't already a fugitive in Slovenia, I made sure of it by then driving on the A1 motorway without a vignette. Alerted to the fact that there was 'Radio Control' on the motorway by prominent signage, I assumed that this was to police the speed limit or "Pour votre sécurité" as in France. No, apparently not. When you exit the motorway, with seven credit cards and a bunch of euro notes at the ready, you pass through a kiosk staffed only by a camera, so I had no way of paying the toll. Considering that I had already paid €15 for a couple of hours' parking, I couldn't be bothered to get on the internet to see how I could pay for the Slovenian motorway, and as the poster above points out that it is a vignette system I doubt I could pay retrospectively anyway. So I am now I am a fugitive in Slovenia, sitting in Leeds awaiting a fine which I will happily pay, because Slovenia is a nice country which I would like to return to some day. And you have to drive through Slovenia (for about ten miles) to get to Croatia. And it was all my fault, for being numpty.

[Owain]

Once safely back in Italy, we drove the width of the country over the next few days, from the ss14 on the Slovenian border to the ss1 on the French frontier. This surely makes me the only person in the world to have driven the length and bredth of Italy in a Rover 75.

The feat was achieved via a bella sosta in Turin - the home of Fiat and one of my favourite cities - where we visited the Museo Nazionale del Risorgimento, or the museum of Italy's national resurgence. This is something I should have visited years ago, being supposedly a specialist in Italian history, but Jessica seemed more excited about it than I was. We also spent a couple of days in Liguria, where we stayed at an agriturismo offering a tasting menu of traditional local food, fantastic views, cats, and roads which bore witness to some interesting overtaking manoeuvres.

While in Liguria, we took a trip along the ss1 "Via Aurelia", which runs right along the Italian Riviera, and I managed to be numpty yet again by sticking €10 in one of the prepayment machines common at Italian filling stations. They require you to insert banknotes or a credit card, before selecting the number of your pump and then filling up with fuel. In the past, I've become so used to using these things that I've even gone over to help confused Dutch tourists who were uncertain as to how they work. However, on this occasion - with overconfidence probably induced by having bought a vast quantity of Italian wine in a local supermarket, and chuffed at the fact that my old car was still running enthusiastically - I went to one such filling station, inserted a €10 note and managed to type the wrong pump number into the payment machine. Some lucky Italian motorist - or possibly the owner of the garage - will have had a nice little tip that day.

The ss1 "Via Aurelia" is a dramatic road, running from Rome to the French border in the Maritime Alps. Between Genoa and the border, it mostly hugs the coastline and affords many fantastic views across the Tyrrhenian Sea. However, it runs through one bustling coastal town after another, and even the sections in the countryside are all-too-often ruined by 50kph and 70kph limits, so it tends to be a rather frustrating drive.

It was on our drive between Albenga and Imperia that we ran into the Fiat 500 Club Italia, who were out on a rally celebrating 60 years of the (original) Fiat 500. We saw anything up to a hundred of them that day, not grouped together at an event or nose-to-tail on the roads, but all over the place. Some were parked, others travelled one way in a duo or trio while others passed in the other direction on their own. There were even a few other cars - the odd 126, Autobianchi Bianchina, and even a Panda - involved too. They would toot enthusiastically as they passed each other. There seemed to be no coordination to the event at all, but it was nice to see so many (see p.338 of the 'Cars you never see any more' thread).