Summer was our big event. Back then in the mid-eighties, my parents packed a mountain of swimming and trekking gear, cool boxes with supplies, and my brother and me into the car and we were off. Six whole weeks in Italy! My place was in the back left seat, safely stowed by mum in the stylish orange Römer child seat. Even today, the memory of the plastic smell of the cover and the way my legs stuck to the material in 30-degree heat makes me feel a bit queasy. But where the pampered adult sees only an endless slog, for me back then the trip from the Rhineland over the Brenner pass to Bolzano, and later down to the Adriatic, in the Passat was a great adventure. After every nap a new landscape appeared outside the window, foreign towns, huge mountains and finally the long-awaited sea. Thanks for the memories, yellow one!