We’re on a train traveling from Venice to Florence. The trip takes us through Italy’s “foodiest” region – Emilia Romagna. When Italy became Italy – not that long ago – much of the action took place in Emilia Romagna. Let’s pick up the story where we left off.
As noted last time, up until the start of the 19th century, there was no “Italy” per se. Napoleon Bonaparte, (of all people), united his conquests to create the first Kingdom of Italy in 1805.
When luck ran out for Napoleon and his army in 1814, Emilia Romagna and much of northern Italy reverted back to being part of the Austrian Empire. The Italian peninsula was the same hodgepodge of nations it had been before.
But things were different now. The idea of “One Italy” had caught on. And not just in the north. Why not the whole Italian peninsula? They just had to figure out how to kick everyone else out.
One Italy – Let’s Make it Happen!
Unification movements started in both the North and South. Revolutionaries worked in secret, under the radar. Eventually, through all kinds of political intrigue, negotiations, and shenanigans, they saw their chance.
So in 1848, they started the 1st Italian War of Independence. The main goal was to throw the Austrians out. The revolutionaries failed, but they got peoples’ attention.
Clandestine work continued as support grew. Then in 1856, through all kinds of political intrigue, negotiations, and shenanigans, they started Italy’s 2nd War of Independence. They got put down again. Dang!
These guys weren’t quitters. No way. The idea of one Italy had caught fire. The revolutionaries kept working under cover. Leaders like Giuseppe Garibaldi and Giuseppe Mazzini, whether in or out of prison, in exile or in the country, kept the ball rolling.
Then in 1866, by way of all kinds of political intrigue, negotiations, and shenanigans, they started the 3rd War of Independence for Italy.
It took three more years, but finally, on September 20th, 1870, Italy became Italy as we know it today.
If You Don’t Take the Train…
So here we are today, rolling along toward Florence. This isn’t the first time we’ve made this trip. The first time was our first experience driving in Italy.
Four of us picked up a rental car in Venice and found our way to the Autostrada – the Italian interstate. We quickly discovered that the outermost lane is the Very Slow lane. The inside lane is the Very Fast lane.
The lanes were narrower than what we were used to. On some stretches, if we were in the inside lane, the car wasn’t far from the guardrail. But other than a few close calls, horn honks, and the occasional frantically flashing headlights signaling us to get the heck out of the fast lane, all went well.
Trouble on the Autostrada
Emilia-Romagna turned into Tuscany – wine country! Florence couldn’t be far off now. We were looking all around, oohing and aahing, when I spotted the unmistakable sight of the Duomo on our left.
“Look!” I blurted out. “There’s the Duomo!”
At that moment there was a loud noise. Metal hitting metal. The car jerked one way and then the other. Not good!
Our side mirror had whacked the guard rail at 60 mph. When we all had looked over to see the Duomo, I guess the car wanted to see it, too, because it moved over just far enough to clip the guardrail.
We were still going 50 mph or so. The side mirror, now attached only by wires, was dangling down, flopping around, banging against the side of the car.
We took the next exit and got out to survey the damage. We were able to pop that mirror right back into place. There wasn’t a mark on the side of the car. You’d never suspect that anything had happened. Unless you looked very closely.
To be continued…
