Column: the parking disc

Also in Italy they know the phenomenon of the parking disc. In the Netherlands this can probably only be seen in residential areas of large cities. Less as a way to limit longer parking in shopping areas. After all, we now have parking meters for that. One of those meters that always goes in too much and never comes back if you leave early.

There we drove. Completely without a plan to a village. Somewhere to eat, walk along the lake for which the town was famous. And we would see what the day brought us. After all, it was vacation!

The town

The mountain road, like so many, had meandered uphill. A little further down and there was the breathtaking view. The cars were put aside to enjoy. From the view, from the colours. Below us a blue lake, a winding road leading to it and a town. A collection of houses as you only see them in Tuscany and neighboring regions. All colors of the painter's palette represented. The ocher houses. The pink and the yellow colors and the bright red and orange.

The market

The sunglasses were necessary and the sun clearly showed who was responsible for them. The water sparkled, the air above the lake trembled. Looking closely at the town showed that we noticed, only at this moment of our trip, that it was a market down there.

And if there is one thing that has always divided our group into two groups, it is a market. A pair of them always want to see every market, want to visit all the stalls. Even if only with hands tied behind their backs and in a stroll. Others(prefer to look at the people from behind a glass of soda or a cup of coffee. Such a large cup of coffee that invariably Rainforest hot.

Down in the valley we notice that in addition to the many inhabitants of the valleys around the village, quite a few tourists have found the market. German and Dutch license plates everywhere. And then the search begins. Search for a parking space. Because Italians may be able to get double parked close to the market stalls, just try that with a yellow plate on the car. You are and will remain a tourist.

The parking lot

Luck is with us. There are two places available in a few places from each other. Well, that one can only be done with the wheel and the right side more or less on the pavement. But oh well.

It turns out to be a 'blue zone'. And sure enough, one of us doesn't even have a blue disc. 'Because we never need them at home.' Good advice can get expensive if we take the chance. First ask in that shop right next to the parking lot if they have a parking disc.

But what do you call that in Italian again? With hands and feet we make it clear to the lady at the cash register that we want to park and don't have a ticket. No 'carta blu'. Then she gets it. Unfortunately, they don't sell them. My dispiace. Non ho. Or something. Police then? Or l'ufficio turistico?

old boss

Behind us in the queue at the cash register is an older man. Bald, sunglasses on his skull and a smile on the folds in his face. He clearly understands what this discussion is about. But we have to leave the store again, because those cars are now parked somewhat on the left and without a disc.

There the old boss is again and asks in broken German and further Italian what the problem was. We'll explain again. Apparently he doesn't know where we can buy such a thing, but he does know a solution.

He taps us on the shoulder, says something that looks like we should wait, and runs off.

Well great. Get upset first and then run away. Has 'the signoraSometimes the pasta is already on the table? Had something suddenly popped into his head to justify his haste?

Just when we want to decide that that one car has to find a parking spot somewhere else, that old Italian is suddenly in front of us again. Sweat drips from him from under the sunglasses. His skull shines. The smile seems burnt on his face, because it doesn't budge.

The parking disc is a disco orario

Then he plucks a parking disc from behind his back! And he explains to us in detail what this thing is called: disco orario.

Not only does he shine from ear to ear. We also. We venture into a piece of Italian gratitude, fall around the man's neck and stammer gratefully several times'grazie, grazie, grazie molto. '

That's all we can do with this stunt: running home to give a few tourists an opportunity to park their car. Awesome. What a fantastic way of sympathizing.

Years later, one of our cars still has a parking disc from Italy, a disco orario. A reminder.

We got the one in the other car as a gift from a policewoman in Germany.

Editor's Note: In contrast to the Netherlands, parking disc spots in Italy are usually not indicated with blue stripes. If you see blue stripes in Italy, you have to pay to park there.