My first post on the subject stirred some debate. I’ll encapsulate that post by restating that possessing an International Driver’s License in Italy is a scarcely enforced law that I deliberately choose to ignore. Having said that, I also promised to check into it a little deeper. Here are the results:

The Law Regarding International Drivers License is written in Italian and confusing at best. Our Italian legal counsel summed it up as follows: “with an American license you can drive, but if you do not have an IDL or an official translation, you risk a fine of 78 up to 311 Euro.” The main issue, it seems is not translating the color of your hair, but understanding what vehicle class you are allowed to drive. In Italy, I don’t drive buses, tractor trailers, heavy construction equipment or motorcycles and thus I am content to be without an IDL in my sedan.

Second, I had our staff in Italy stop, call and speak to members of various law enforcement agencies. Not a single officer was aware of such a law and none of them claimed to have ever demanded seeing an IDL from an American. They look for a valid driver’s license, passport and car rental contract. Granted, our research was completely unscientific. Nonetheless, rarely enforced laws occur all over the world. For instance, men with mustaches in Nebraska cannot kiss a woman. 

Third, in order to pick up their car at the car rental desk, clients must provide their valid driver’s license, passport, credit card and reservation.

Finally, I have yet to see copy of a fine or ticket levied against anyone for failing to comply with this law. So where does that leave us? For myself, I shall continue to spend the extra cash on something useful like getting a shave next time I visit Nebraska. 

I’ll be pilloried for saying this but someone better. Forking over cash money for an IDL to use in much of Western Europe, Italy included is a complete waste of time and money. Every armchair traveler is now doubling over in their recliner at such blasphemy. Laws will be rattled off with penalties ranging from severe fines to life imprisonment. But, before you hand over the cash equivalent of a good bottle of wine please hear me out. I have personally driven over a quarter of a million miles in Europe, 80% of them in Italy alone. I have been stopped on occasion by carabinieri, polizia and guardia di finanza (basically, everyone except the army) and have never been asked to produce an IDL. At the start of my travels, I fell prey to this scam and was fortunately stopped by Italian police officers early on. I immediately produced my IDL. They had no idea what an IDL was and demanded to see my real license and passport. Since then, no law enforcement person has ever asked me for one, nor has any car rental desk, gas station or parking lot attendant demand that I produce one either. Why should you?

It is an easy $15 to $50 bucks to peel off of folks prior to departure by: a) claiming laws the local police do not even claim to know exist and b) guaranteeing piece of mind to the uninformed. The IDL is simply a translation of your actual license. You most definitely need it when visiting countries that use a completely different alphabet such as Greece, Russia, China, Saudi Arabia, Japan and anywhere else the ABCs of our alphabet appears as squiggles in the eyes of the beholder. Italy, France, England, Germany, Spain, Scandinavia, South America and a host of other countries use the very same alphabet and can easily figure out your name, address, height, hair color and license number.

So, I choose to save a few bucks and carry around one less meaningless piece of paper. While driving in Italy, I make sure that I always wear seat belts, pass only from the left and never hold a cell phone while driving — ignoring these laws will get one into real trouble.

The next time you go to Piedmont (Piemonte) take a look at the average Piemontese winemaker. Chances are he is tall, muscular and somewhat tight-lipped. Now look at his wine. The wines of Piedmont, such as Barolo, Italy’s king of wines are big in stature, powerful and unapproachable — that is until you uncork them and let them breathe for quite a while. Typically, the Piemontesi show the same characteristics until given time to get to know you. Like their wine, once they open up you will have an unforgettable friend for life.

Tuscany is a bit different. Tuscans are the marketeers of Italy. For instance, everyone raves about Tuscan olive oil; however most of what is “packed in Lucca” originates in Puglia, Abruzzo and a host of other places. The Tuscans are salesmen. They are handsome and charming. Now look at Chianti, Tuscany’s most popular wine. It is a happy, engaging and popular beverage. However, a typical Chianti may have as many as six or seven different varietals in each bottle. No one ever knows what’s truly in the bottle except the vintner. The same may be said for those alert and engaging Tuscan eyes — while smitten, you may never fully understand what’s behind them either.

Sicilian wines, like their makers are small in stature and nowhere near as popular as their neighbors to the north, yet, when you taste a Sicilian Marsala it is sweet and fiery, just like the people. Sicilians are filled with passion and their eyes openly reveal the intensity that burns within. A good Marsala burns going down and makes you glow from within.

Luigi Minnucci (center) presenting wine tasting awards

The credit for these interesting observations go to Luigi Minnucci, a world class sommelier and very dear friend who passed away last year in his native Abruzzo. Help me honor Luigi by adding more popular wines and the resemblance of their makers to this list.

The meal was indescribably delicious, the service was impeccable, the wines were sublimely matched. The soft elegant setting adorned with fresh flowers and classical music was one where we could have stayed forever. Stefania, the attractive and attentive owner of Ristorante Belle Parti was floored when I told her how we found her. “Do you know who the woman with the basset hounds is?” “Not a clue” I replied. “Rabarama is Italy’s most famous living artist. Her sculptures and paintings sell for as much as $400,000. It was she who sent you here”. I promised Stefania that I would tell all our friends and readers how I came to experience some of the best Italian food ever in one of my favorite cities to boot. 

Later that evening when we joined the rest of our gang, I shared the day’s events with my friend Stephanie Oswald, CNN Travel reporter and the editor of Travel Girl Magazine. The next day Steph led her own small group to Saint Anthony’s and for lunch at Belle Parti. It turned out to be the highlight of everyone's Italy trip. It would be wonderfully self serving if I could tell you that Parker Villas has villas and apartments in Padova. Not yet. You will have to get there without my direct intercession for now. However, if you stop by Saint Anthony’s, something wonderful may happen to you as well.

Every time I set foot in Padova - Padua in English - something truly wonderful happens, and it always begins with a visit to Saint Anthony's Basilica. St. Anthony is a miracle maker and champion of lost causes. I can attest to the former and often think I’m the latter. Throughout the years I've visited the basilica with family, devout Jews, protestants, agnostics and the occasional atheist. The result is always the same. Everyone is somehow transformed. There is a palpable force there that transcends religion and touches everyone.

After guiding my companions through the rite of touching Anthony’s “warm” marble tomb, obtaining a blessing from a friar in a tiny alcove halfway up the right hand side (a friar is always there) and depositing a petitioner’s candle in the altar bin for use during services, we stepped out into the pleasant November sun and strolled a few blocks into the pedestrian heart of this ancient university town. Shops, cafes, artisan studios, lots of Italians and countless students populate narrow lanes that open into gorgeous piazzas. By 1 pm, we were famished and craving a special kind of lunch, one where service, food and ambiance ruled, and then it happened...

The day before, I had spotted two stout basset hounds while sipping thick, creamy delicious hot chocolate at Caffe Pedrocchi and now, they were shuffling by once again. I beckoned my companions to wait and ran after these somewhat obvious denizens of Padova and their master. My question was simple: “Hello. I’m sorry to disturb you. I’m an American here with friends. I noticed your hounds yesterday and figured you might be a local. I was hoping you could suggest a restaurant filled with wonderful food and ambiance?” At the other end of the leash, beneath a wide brimmed hat stood a classic Italian beauty draped in a plaid mantle and partially hidden behind sunglasses larger than espresso saucers. She regarded me for a second and in a soft, velvet tone asked: “Do you really seek excellent food and a perfect atmosphere?” “Yes” I pleaded. She gave me explicit instructions on fulfilling our quest. Her final words were: “You will know you are there by the young blond woman that greets you, I’m sure it will be to your liking.”