Modern travel is usually associated with spending long hours in uncomfortable seats, occasionally even sprinkled with dust. The sparkling destination at the other end makes it all worthwhile, where a few short days or perhaps even weeks will be spent. Miles seem to trudge along and the whole ordeal will most likely have to be repeated on the way back.
Only rarely does travel on its own become a destination in itself. An endless train journey across Siberian plains is perhaps one such endeavour, and a cruising the tropics in a ship could be another. Yet these are both passive experiences, where the aim is simply to enjoy the scenery and sample the cuisine. The more adventurous sort will try to make their way through the heart of Spain on foot or perhaps attempt to swim across one channel or another.
There is, however, a third option. Replacing blisters with glamour. Powering through mountains instead of climbing them. Speeding across a ragged landscape... A rare stretch of road partly buried under mountain ranges and occasionally leaning precariously above the Mediterranean embodies the spirit of travel more than any romantic railroad ever will.
The Autostrada dei Fiori (Motorway of the Flowers) is a stretch of motorway connecting Nice in France to Genoa in Italy. It traverses more than countries and valleys. It exists where a road, under any other circumstances, cannot exist. It is as natural as an ice-cream van in the Sahara and yet it fits perfectly.
It connects two great cities along a stretch of coast that has only recently decided to rise out of the sea and is unwilling to let anyone cross its innumerable ridges and precipices. This arrogant nature is subdued by countless tunnels, viaducts and barriers, and an endless flow of cars and lorries perched over the sea.
In its soul the Autostrada is as much an engineering undertaking as the Eiffel tower – effortlessly satisfying all practical demands – and yet adding flair in spades. Its spatial qualities are made to be appreciated exclusively through motion – partly because there is no place to stop. Exhibiting true Italian roadway design heritage, it is more akin to a bobsled track than a traffic thoroughfare. And to complicate it further, this track is both hung across deep valleys and drilled through solid cliffs. The lack of solid ground has even pushed the border crossing between France and Italy some 5 kilometres from its actual spot.
Due to its character, the Autostrada offers the gratifying experience of travelling for the sake of travel. Even after a winning game in a casino in Nice, the drive will prove to be an astonishing experience, as it fuses landscape, cities and travel into one continuous experience. Roaring motors are balanced with the calmness of the sea throughout the journey.
Along the way there are almost too many sights to be seen, but not touched. Glimpses of scattered private villas can be caught over the wheel, as well as compact villages grown onto the ridges. And spread amongst them innumerable tomato greenhouses. And yet they can’t be looked at! The speed demands attention and the asphalt mixes danger with delight. The drive itself is gambling with life as it is with chips in Nice.
This automotive bliss takes some adapting to. As this is the natural habitat of sporty V8 coupés and such beasts, it is worlds apart from any daily commute. And as a red 1952 Alfa Romeo Disco Volante zips past, the whole experience becomes very similar to riding a roller coaster; with the added benefit of having control of the throttle.
In short, the Autostrada dei Fiori is a destination in itself, being part of a group of great Mediterranean roads that snugly hug the coast and were made to be enjoyed. In a convertible.
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