A four-dimensional tour

500 cylinder capacity, 500 kilos, 500 thousand lire: after a very lukewarm initial reception of the first model, the Nuova 500 was launched in 1957, becoming e a true icon of Italian design - the first car to win the prestigious Compasso d’Oro - and contributing significantly to changing the mobility of Italians.

This is how it was presented at its début:

“Here it is, we give it the place of honour, the privilege of the opening, the space reserved for editorial articles in newspapers. Carlos Salamano, pilot and pioneer, presents it to us with legitimate pride. Rear engine of 479 cubic centimetres, 2 in-line cylinders and air-cooled. Spacious and comfortable cabin for two passengers, space behind the seats capable of accommodating at least four suitcases, or for those who prefer them to the four suitcases, two children.

So have a good trip at the fantastic speed of 85 kilometres per hour, achievable with just four litres of petrol, that is about twenty kilometres per litre (Americans have cigarette lighters that consume much more).

Another remarkable element of the new 500 is the price, less than 500 thousand lire. If this does not seem sensational enough at first sight, follow us, despite the heat, in this quick calculation. Given its price, and given its weight of about 470 kilograms, the new small car costs less than 1000 liras per kilo, that is half the price of prosciutto ham.

A generous instalment system will also allow the purchase of 20 kilos per month, equal to about 700 grams per day, including Sundays and public holidays. Motorcyclists from all over Italy unite: the proletariat of the road is no longer on two, but on four wheels. The large, spacious, safe, smooth, deserted roads of Italy await you”.

«Ma dove vai bellezza in bicicletta, così di fretta pedalando con ardor?» (Where are going, beauty on a bicycle, pedalling with ardour in such a hurry?) sang Silvana Pampanini in “Bellezze in bicicletta”, where Silvana, her character, pedals together with Delia towards their greatest dream: to enter Totò’s group.

It’s the fifties. On the saddle of their faithful companion, everyone hums this tune, as if with every word and every whistle one could pedal harder. As if everyone felt like Silvana and Delia, looking for a dream to realise.

It is the same refrain that echoes on 22nd May 1958, at the fifth stage of the fortieth edition of the Giro d’Italia, the last to boast the unforgettable Fausto Coppi amongst its participants. «When the Giro arrived, a frightening rain came down on Mondovì, accompanied by the deaf and distant rumble of thunder» reads the following day’s La Stampa newspaper.

The fans waited in the square, sheltered by umbrellas and wrapped in mackintoshes. They wanted to see their favourites hurtling towards the finish line.

After 193 km, amidst bends and apparently flat inclines typical of the Langhe landscape, an unexpected Alfredo Sabbadin crossed the finish line, several metres ahead of Botella, Fantini and the favourite Moser, who arrived five minutes late and the pink jersey completely soaked.

The spectators celebrated and helped the cyclists shelter from the pouring rain.

Rain loathed by the cyclists, who did not want to get ill so they could continue their race towards Chiavari.

Rain feared by the organisers, who with Reale Mutua’s policy had insured themselves against the risk of not being able to broadcast the award ceremony on TV.

Lucky rain for Sabbadin who, like a thunderbolt in the middle of a thunderstorm, made space for himself and ran straight to the finish line.

Hans Rosling, Swedish physician and statistician, in a Ted Talk in 2010 tells what the spread of household appliances in homes meant from women’s and children’s point of view.

“I was four years old when I saw my mother loading a washing machine for the first time. My parents had saved up years to buy it and on the day it was set to start, my grandmother also wanted to be there. She was even more excited: all her life she had lit the fire to heat the water, and hand washed the laundry for seven children.
She asked if she could press the button, grabbed a chair and enjoyed the entire washing cycle. She was fascinated. ‘It’s magic,’ she said.

My mother immediately made me understand why the washing machine was magic: ‘Now that we’ve loaded the drum,’ she said, ‘you and I are going to the library’.

Because this is the magic: you load the drum and in exchange you get books.
My mother now had time to read me books, and to study”.

Between the ‘50s and ‘60s Italian per capita income went from 350,000 to 571,000 liras and the tight circumstances of a subsistence economy gave way to an explosion in consumption. Household appliances were entering into an increasing number of homes, powered by electricity, the first, great ally of women’s emancipation.

Cesare Polacco, alias the almost infallible Inspector Rock, solved his mini-crime stories on Carosello from 1957 to 1968 in episodes dramatized by Luigi Magni, Furio Scarpelli and Lina Wertmüller in 1 minute and 45 seconds, to which a 30-second advertising ‘tail’ was added with the presentation of the Linetti line products.

Cesare Polacco starred in many Italian films, among which various comedies alongside Totò, and in some screenplays, above all the resounding success of the Promessi Sposi, of 1967, where he played the Count Uncle.

He then lent his voice to dub American actors such as Anthony Quinn, Buster Keaton and Boris Karloff, and some characters from Disney animated films – Alice in Wonderland, Peter Pan, Snow White and Pinocchio – .

Of his connection with Reale Mutua remains a sepia-coloured photo, where he looks into the camera elegantly dressed and smoking one of his pipes, so beloved that he asks the producer to make it Inspector Rock’s hallmark.

On the photograph an autograph: “To Reale Mutua Assicurazione, the only custodian of my few remaining savings”.