VOYAGE OF TIME

My grandfather had a white Mercedes, he would come pick me up at the house with dark glasses and a Belmondo smile, I thought he was a famous man, a politician, an actor. He also had a red Cinquecento, he sold cars. My mother used to take us to school with a light blue Panda, the classic light blue Panda like a pastel sky. My other grandfather drove like crazy, so they tell me. I only remember his arm out of the window of a white Seat Ibiza, no belt, the smell of burnt rubber, black plastic and an ashtray full of Merit. Sometimes he spat. My father used to read Quattroruote and after lunch we would watch TG2 Motori with Maria Leitner. Our car then was a grey Golf, and then a darker grey. The metal toy cars I used to play with, some models I will never forget. A Dumbaghi ​​for my mother, an American family car for my dog. My dad's Beetle, the Bolognese rallies, the journeys towards the end of the Nineties in the trunk of a blue Volvo. The father of one of my classmates had a black Saab, I loved it. I used to read Diabolik so I was always looking around for the Jaguar, but I have never seen one.                         In my neighborhood we had Fiat models: the Uno, the Tipo, the Tempra.