The Road Through Sirmione, Italy

Spotted: an extremely discreet street sign on a beautiful building facade in Sirmione.

In the backseat of a European rental car, the desire to slink down to the floor mat at my feet is overwhelming.

My father is driving and my mother is navigating in the passenger seat next to him. We are approaching an archway to an ancient castle on a road that appears to be pedestrian only. In this moment I’m thirteen again; my cheeks are flushed pink in protest of my parents doing something so embarrassing, that slinking down to car floor mats seems more favorable than living through the actual moment. Despite the annoyed glares from the many people around us, my dad sees an opening in the crowd and decides to press on. Logical decision?

As if driving through the crowd itself wasn’t bad enough, my mother felt compelled to capture it all from the front seat on her iPad. Extra embarrassing at the time, but now of course, I’m glad she did.

Suddenly, a man in uniform palms the back window of our car and shuffles through the crowd towards the driver’s seat. In furious Italian, he lets rip a borage of indiscernible verbiage to which my dad responds with a pair of shrugged shoulders and a feeble, “Do you speak English?”

I glance down at the floor mats longingly.

In my parents’ defense, the culprit here is my iPhone, with all navigation pointing us into the crowd. Somehow it lead us to this uncomfortable moment and holding it, I feel slightly responsible.

I sigh and lean forward. “Palace Hotel Villa Cortine?” I say, holding out the digital map to the cop as proof of our misdirection. “Ah, Villa Cortine,” the cop repeats. Instantly his demeanor changes. “Si, prego,” he nods. And then, in perfect English, “When the light turns green.”

The three of us whip our heads around — there is a traffic light?! Seems the cop’s anger was directed towards our running a red light at three miles-per-hour rather than forging our way into a mass of unsuspecting tourists.

With the green light — figuratively and literally — my dad steps on the gas and we funnel under the archway with the crowd. On the other side, a fortress complete with drawbridge and moat, come into view. Stunning. Gorgeous. Totally normal.

Medieval fortress/castle complete with drawbridge and moat as we pass — way cool.

We snake along, following the blue line on the iPhone through tight turns and narrow streets flooded with people — not another car in sight — until finally, we come to a set of ornate iron gates. Here the crowd thins and another five minutes up a winding hill parks us in front of a beautiful building where it’s confirmed that we came the right way — the only way — to Palace Hotel Villa Cortine.

I exit the car, returning to my thirty-something-year-old self, and feel a bit foolish for not having enjoyed the journey more. Clearly, we missed the ‘What to Expect’ memo, and I vowed right then that none of my friends would ever share the same fate.

So here it is folks: if you ever find yourself winding up the beautiful streets of Sirmione in Lake Garda, Italy, be undeterred by the massing tourists you have to circumvent along the way. They are a part of the scenery, and your driving through them is all a part of the experience. As weird as it my seem, enjoy it. Maybe even laugh a little, because no where else will provide the same experience. And believe me, the light at the end of the tunnel is well worth the journey, despite all desirable floor mats.