There’s something slightly cinematic about driving from Austria down to Italy. The mountains slowly soften, the air gets warmer, and suddenly every second car seems to be a tiny Fiat flying around corners like it’s late for an espresso date.

Now add one more ingredient to this Riviera road trip recipe:
we were doing it all in an electric car.

Which, in Italy, quickly turned into a side quest somewhere between a romantic road trip and a survival game with 7% battery remaining.
At first, we felt very modern and organised. Quiet e-car gliding through the Alps, playlists on, fully embracing our eco-friendly Italian movie era.

Then came the charging stations. Or more specifically: the charging stations refusing to acknowledge our existence.
Many of them required special membership cards that could only be set up with an Italian address and Italian payment details. Meanwhile, we stood there with foreign credit cards, confused expressions, and rapidly decreasing battery percentages like contestants in a reality show called "Survive the Riviera".

And Ionity stations? The dependable European charging heroes? Beautiful. Reliable. Rare. Like truffle sightings. Mostly located near bigger cities while we were happily zigzagging through coastal roads and tiny villages.

But honestly? It somehow added to the adventure.
Because nothing bonds you to Italy quite like desperately hunting for a functioning charger while an 82-year-old Vespa driver effortlessly overtakes you on a mountain road with one hand on the steering wheel.

Once both we and the car had emotionally recovered, it was time for our first overnight stop at Starhotels Du Parc in Parma.

The hotel feels like stepping into old Italy in the best possible way. Classic interiors, elegant little details, and yes, an actual room key. Not a plastic card. A real key. Felt like a tiny time-travel moment.

The room was spacious and waiting with little goodies that instantly made it feel welcoming after the long drive. But the real star? The restaurant’s famous artisan pinsa by Maestro Pizzaiolo Alberto Buonocore. Not quite pizza, not quite flatbread, but dangerously addictive. The dough is leavened for 24 hours, hand-rolled one by one, baked, chilled, and perfected with almost scientific Italian dedication. We savoured every bite.

The next morning, it was finally time for the coast. Fully charged with the destination: Rapallo on the Italian Riviera.

And honestly? The arrival already felt like vacation therapy, …. especially after spotting the hotel’s charging station.

We stayed at Excelsior Palace Hotel, sitting dramatically right above the sea like it knows it’s photogenic. The hotel has that old-style Riviera glamour that makes you want to wear oversized sunglasses and a wide sunhat, Sophia Loren style, even if you normally don’t own either.

The welcome was incredibly warm. One of those rare check-ins where you instantly relax because everyone is genuinely kind. We were personally brought to the room, and from the first second, the views completely stole the show: endless blue ocean. The hotel offers rooms with two different views: the harbour and colourful city of Rapallo, or a full ocean view. Honestly, there’s no wrong choice here.

One of the biggest highlights was the hotel’s private beach club. You simply walk across a covered walkway directly from the hotel, and suddenly you’re in this little coastal world of pools, lounge chairs, sea views, spa corners, and people slowly sipping Aperol Spritz like they have absolutely nowhere to be. Which, in Italy, might actually be the goal. 🍹
You can spend hours there doing almost nothing. And somehow it still feels productive.

Rapallo itself has such an easy, lively energy. Restaurants spill into little streets, bars buzz late into the evening, and everywhere you look, there’s gelato, or somebody beautifully overdressed walking a dog.