23 May 1964, weather fine. Cinematographer Pietro Vianzone is torn between two loves. He comes from a family, the Vianzones, among the first bicycle manufacturers in Italy: at the beginning of the century they opened a factory in Turin and later, in the 1930s, Bartali raced and won with a bike that had Vianzone-branded rims. To say that two wheels were always important at home. But how can one resist the allure of the gleaming blue FIAT 1400, which deserved the Touring Club medals proudly fixed right in front, under the bonnet. To the passion for the aforementioned means of locomotion Pietro adds that for the camera and the faithful tripod. Thanks to this, he puts himself on stage flirting with his loves, among the tree-lined roads and in the middle of the fields of the Piedmont countryside, occasionally casting a glance at his wife immersed in the bucolic landscape. But are the picked flowers the protagonists of this magnificent 8mm colour film, for whom does our autarkic filmmaker pick them? They are nothing more than flowers, and pinned to the bodywork they may have an ephemeral life span but they may look better than some medals.