In 1997 or 2000, I was riding on a Pendolino in Italy, somewhere along the Milan – Florence – Rome mainline (don’t remember if it was a ETR 450 or 460 – you know, Grandpa got this way before the end, couldn’t remember a dang thing, but that’s another story!). In my very poor, broken Italian, I tried to strike up a conversation with the conductor, who was doing his paperwork in an unoccupied passenger compartment in the middle of the train. As much as I appreciated the speed and efficiency of the modern Pendolino, I began decrying the passing of the long-time premium service on the route, Italy’s only “Super-Rapido” at the time, the Settebello (ETR 300).

“Il Settebello” was, IMHO, the world’s classiest day train. An EMU, its outline was unusual, its interiors uniquely stylish, and – for the pre-TGV/Pendolino days – it was fast. But most interestingly, it had beautiful round-end observation lounges at both ends (the control cabs were in a cupola, above and behind the observation area, similar to the style of the original Disneyland/Alweg monorails). You could sit in the very front, looking out through large panoramic windows, watching the tracks ahead come at you at 60 – 80 mph, as if you were the engineer.

Well, I suspect that Signor Conduttore was nearly as sentimental about it as I was. In any case, he motions to me to follow him. We move forward, until we come to a locked door, which he casually unlocks. The door opens, and we are in the Pendolino’s cab! While he is talking to the 2 engineers, I am scanning the instruments – the speedometer is holding at 180 km/h (some 112 mph). After a few minutes, and my profuse thanks, I excitedly return to my seat, to explain to my wife where I had disappeared to. But she understood – she knew I could never turn down an opportunity like that!