Dear friends (and curious strangers),

Most things about life in Italy have been exactly what we hoped they’d be…

Getting pulled over by the police was not one of them.

It happened on the main road into our village—a stretch of road we’ve since learned is a favorite spot for routine stops.

But at the time, we had no idea.

While driving to run errands one day, we came around a curve and saw a black police car with the word “Carabinieri” in bold red letters and two officers standing on the side of the road in military-style uniforms. One held out a red paddle, motioning for us to pull over…

Feeling a little nervous, and not knowing what we had done wrong, the officer came to the window and asked for our license. He hardly spoke any English, and we spoke very little Italian, so there wasn’t a lot of conversation. He took the license and walked back to the patrol car, where he and his partner entered our information into a computer.

After waiting…what felt like a very long time…he came back, handed us the license, and simply waved us on.

No explanation. Nothing.

We drove away wondering what had just happened.

As it turns out, this is the norm in Italy.

Several different branches of law enforcement set up these roadside checkpoints all over Italy—the Carabinieri (a national military police force), state police, local police, and the Guardia di Finanza, which focuses on financial and tax-evasion enforcement.

During a stop, they can check everything from your license and insurance to required safety items in your car, your residency status, alcohol consumption (zero tolerance here), and even your tax compliance.

It’s not unusual to come around a bend and see them—even late at night or in the wee hours of the morning.

One night, we were heading home around midnight after a dinner party at a friend’s house. We came around a curve, and the officer was out in the road waving us over with his red paddle. When he approached the window, he took one look at us and immediately waved us on. Our guess was that we looked like a couple of boring old people—and maybe he just didn’t want to deal with us.

I can count on two hands now how many times we’ve been pulled over, each time the same as the last.

But there was one particular stop that we’ll never forget…

On this occasion, my husband and I were driving through a roundabout when we saw a Guardia di Finanza car pulled off to the side of the road. The officer, dressed in plain clothes, waved us over with the familiar red paddle.

He spoke a little better English than the others had and asked for our license and registration. As usual, he went back to his car to run the information.

When he returned, he looked at the address on our license and said,

“Ahh… Kentucky. Do you know Alabama?”

We looked at each other, not quite sure where he was going with this.

“Yes,” we said. “Alabama is a state about four or five hours south of us.”

Then he asks, “Do you know… Lee-nard Skee-nard?”

We couldn’t help but smile.

“Yes…we know (of) Lynyrd Skynyrd.”


And without missing a beat, he starts singing,

“Sweet Home Alabama…”

By this time, we’re both laughing, thinking this is the most bizarre police stop we’ve ever encountered.

Then he hands us back the license, slaps my husband on the shoulder, and says, “Have a nice day.”

We still tell that story often, and it makes us laugh every time.

Today, years later, I have to say…the surprise checkpoints still make me a little uneasy.

But over time, we’ve learned to expect them—and even laugh about them.

It’s just one of those things that felt strange at first, but has slowly become part of everyday life here…even if my heart still skips a beat when I see that red paddle.

Until next time —

With love from Italy,

Jamie

I usually write every other week — and sometimes more when there’s a good story to tell.