The travelling life

17th October 2021

There are certain special times when you, by devoted reader, are blessed with a double bumper edition – times when for one reason or another it has been more convenient for me to meld two weeks into one blog. This is such a time.

I won’t exactly gloss over the first few days, there being little of note till we hit just after lunch on Friday 8th, but I will say that Mario and Luigi had presumably seen the same weather forecast as us (i.e. the rain that set in on Wednesday and lasted on off for the duration) as Tuesday morning saw them busily cutting new and deeper channels by the lower part of the lane, and not just for Harry to walk along and get claggy soil between his toes. They were less kind to Bella when in the afternoon they went at the walnut tree that (used to) overhang the back garden, reducing it to a trunk and a few stumpy branches, thereby denying her the plentiful supply of nuts that she seems to be able to forage for the better part of the year.

Which takes us rapidly to Friday and the start of our great adventure – ok, maybe not so much of an adventure for most people but it was with great excitement for us that we packed the car with our weekend cases, two dogs and their beds and set off for Pet Resort where we left Bella and Harry for their own mini-break (though we hadn’t discussed this with them) while we headed west towards Umbria. Well, sort of, for with the unfailing knack of the sat nav not to discriminate between dirt tracks and proper roads our first leg ended after only a few minutes when, having turned right from the dog kennels as instructed rather then left to return to the road we had taken to get there, we ended having to do a thirteen point turn on squelchy gravel that managed to be both loose and waterlogged at the same time after encountering a chain with a no entry sign attached slung across the road.

Things were considerably better after this – what wouldn’t be? – and we made reasonable time to our destination of Deruta, stopping for a caffè and to fill up with reasonably priced petrol on the way, though the fact that we came off the superstrada too early might have been more my fault in not checking the accuracy of the address the sat nav automatically generated after I input the first two words of a surprisingly long seven word street name. Who knew there would be more than one place in Deruta beginning strada esterna? Still, a little tour of a built-up area meant that when we eventually found our agriturismo, Antica Fattoria del Colle, a couple of kilometres along a country track through a small wood, we were even more charmed with its idyllic setting and views over the Umbrian countryside.

There were only a couple of minor blips when we arrived, which was pretty good going for us, the first being Stephen driving past the parking area and having to execute another thirteen-point turn to go back. After locking up the car we took the scenic route to the front of the building, bags in hand, as the gate onto the more direct path was locked and we didn’t want to ring the bell in case it was to a private house (which it wasn’t, and logically why would it have been?) The second blip was when the very nice man welcomed us with the now obligatory temperature gun – the problem being that we were registering the opposite of a Covid-warning reading. The more than chilly autumn afternoon air wafting around the gun and our foreheads suggested we were more in need of a hot mustard bath than quarantine.

Our day was completed later when we went down to dinner, which was a select affair being we two and another party of five – can’t you tell it’s October? Everything was home produced, homemade or home cooked and ranged from wonderful to fabulous – which made our decision of where to eat for the next two nights easy. Why go travelling along unlit country lanes, taking potluck with a likely looking restaurant or pizzeria where only the non-designated driver can enjoy the grape when you just have to wander down some stairs and across a courtyard to eat as well as anyone could wish?

The next day we started our mini tour of the Perugia area, after a breakfast of very fine freshly baked goodies (fig jam tart anyone?), with a visit to the old centre of Deruta, which at 10 o’clock on a bright Saturday morning was almost deserted, and all the better for that. We strolled up the hill, through the square, around the block to look in a shop window at the ceramic guitar that Carlos Santana had played at the jazz festival one year, Deruta being the centre of ceramic production, and specifically maiolica ware, in Italy.

From there we went to the substantially larger and considerably busier Perugia, where we only went wrong twice before finding the main car park, part of a very well-planned system which by mixing the ancient streets now covered by the modern city of Perugia with escalators and sculpture makes a fascinating maze that eventually brings you out into a piazza with astounding views toward the Valle Umbra. From here we walked up through the surprisingly wide streets, past old buildings and modern shops, to the main square where Stephen bought some obligatory chocolate – but not, in an attempt to avoid the obvious, from Perugina. The secular side of life being seen to, we went into the cathedral. This was a bit on the dark and oppressive side but by way of compensation you can visit the chapel with contains a casket that contains the wedding ring of the Madonna. This casket is situated on an ornate plinth high above a small alter, but you can admire a facsimile casket with a facsimile ring suspended above it which has been thoughtfully placed at eye level.

Lunch was pizza not quite di asporto as we bought it at the counter of a small take-away pizzeria then ate it in the even smaller, open terrace at the back with another impressive view across the countryside. Not believing in such things as maps, we wandered in the opposite direction to the main square after lunch to see what we could find. To Stephen’s delight what we found was a Scout shop (as in trendy clothes, that is, not bare knees and woggles), where a spot of post-prandial retail relaxation resulted in a new shirt for me (because it was very nice and I looked fabulous in it – or so we thought) and a new hooded fleece for Stephen (because, having set out in sunshine in t-shirt and quilted gilet, the chill wind blowing into the city and the onset of scudding clouds meant that not only did he look very conspicuous against the Italians in their padded jackets but he reluctantly had to admit that he was a tad on the cold side).

Another bit of a wander and we decided to head back to Deruta for another look at the shops, and to take in a couple of the big factory stores we had spotted from the superstrada. We were, at first, less than successful, for while the shops and stores were well stocked, they all had the same things in very similar designs, none of which were really to our taste. What was, though, were a couple of second-hand pieces, one a small vase and the other a slightly chipped tile advising people to beware the dog (in Latin, of course). I’m not sure what that says about us.

We then found another outlet, away from the main road, which was divided into three parts – a showroom (closed), a shop (slightly reduced prices) and a bargain basement, only it was in a shed. After a look round the bargain section, a nice lady from the shop appeared and said if we went into the shop we could see another selection of items, and she would come to help us in a moment after she had finished her cigarette. She was as good as her word, and we bought two ceramic Christmas tree baubles, each with 30% off. We went home feeling pleased with ourselves and our afternoon’s purchases to put our feet up before a second and equally fabulous home cooked dinner, this time, it being Saturday night, with nine other guests.

Sunday morning was again clear and sunny, though the forecast for the afternoon was not so promising so Stephen made sure he was adequately covered this time. We had earmarked the morning for a visit to Assisi, thinking that it was bound to be busy whenever you went but maybe Sunday morning might be slightly less so. How wrong we were – we are not in a position to say exactly how crowded it was, but we suspect very. The first indication that we had planned this part of the trip with even less foresight than the others was when the road to the town was blocked off and we had, like the cars ahead of us, to double back on ourselves. The same happened with an alternate route suggested by the sat nav, and a third, by which time a bit of judicious research via Google showed that we had chosen the same day for our visit as the annual Assisi March for Peace.

As it was now obvious that we hadn’t chosen the best day to visit Assisi, a rapid revision of our plans had to be made, the first stage of which was to stop at Santa Maria degli Angeli, which in pilgrim terms is the next best thing due to the very impressive church topped by a golden statue of the Madonna which dominates the town. We’d been advised by Marco and Maddalena that this was a place to visit as they recommended a very good restaurant for lunch just behind the church where, according to Marco, the waiter was very good and ‘one of your team’. How he knew this is a bit of a puzzle to us; maybe he was led to this conclusion by the helpful cameriere being an Umbrian cousin of Kenneth Williams.

It will, however, remain a mystery as it was far too early to consider lunch, and with the queue into the church being of some length, we instead strolled the nearby streets. These, for an Italian town and certainly one of some vintage, were both wide and airy, and the shops, bars and cafés that lined them were surprisingly trendy and metropolitan-looking – a surprising image that was reinforced when we passed the mayor, a slim-hipped young man whose long dark hair fell in wet look curls to his shoulders. How very modern, we thought. He was obviously on official duties, as evinced by wearing his sash of honour, and indeed the area around the church was buzzing with people, many at the various ethical stalls lining the side of the church and others with peace flags making their way to the subway under the railway line to walk up into Assisi. We didn’t join them; international fraternity and world peace are all very well, but we were still sulking over the blocked roads.

After our brief stop in Santa Maria degli Angeli, we went on a few kilometres down the road to Spello, which had been our intended destination after Assisi. It is a small town with a distinctly Medieval feel, most notable for Spello Infiorate, which takes place every year on Corpus Domini, the ninth Sunday after Easter, when thousands of people work over night to make some 60 intricate pictures, or flower carpets, from petals. We were somewhat late for that, but we did, along with a surprising throng of other visitors, follow the route up through the winding streets of the town to the top and a view across the surrounding countryside before returning and stopping half-way for lunch. Spello is one of the most charming places I have been to in Italy; all the buildings looked immaculate, the churches (and there are several along the route) have a benign calmness while the cafés, restaurants and shops made those in Santa Maria look like yesterday’s news.

By the time we had finished lunch (chick peas in broth with a truffle sauce and cubes of cheese, with a side order of focaccia sprinkled with fiori di Spello – I think that tells you the sort of place it is better than anything I can say) the weather had taken the predicted change, but while it was grey and, with the absence of sun, a good deal chillier it remained dry and so we headed to our third stop of the day, Spoleto. We knew very little about the town, which we’d been holding in reserve, and were a little surprised in our ignorance to see a sign as we drove into the centre declaring it to be a UN World Heritage Site. This is probably why it is so well set up for tourists (of which there were a reasonable number) as we discovered when we finally made it to a car park.

Like a lot of Italian towns, Spoleto is on a high hill, and much money has been spent on an extensive underground system based on three routes, each linked to a car park, which take you to the various places of interest in the town. We found ourselves, by luck rather than judgement, in Car Park 2, which fed into a large tunnel complete with moving pavements (of which at least two-thirds were working) which took you up, eventually, to the old fortress, Rocca Albornoz, at the very top of the town. Whilst this offered a wonderful view of the surrounding area, it was, unsurprisingly, a little bleak and windswept (it being the nature of ancient defences) and so we took another route, this time via lifts and escalators, to the duomo.

This area was a lot busier and the cathedral itself an interesting contrast to most we have visited, being a lot airier thanks to its towering white walls, the more ornate decoration being reserved for the side chapels. We then plotted a downward course through the streets, stopping off at the odd piazza and looking in the odd shop window, as we made our way back to our car. Spoleto, I think, deserves a revisit when we have done a little research and have more time to, as they say, do it justice.

It was then back to the agriturismo, taking the scenic minor roads which, counterintuitively, was actually the faster route. Again after a bit of time to put our feet up we went down to dinner, to find we are eating in splendid isolation as all the other guests had checked out. We were slightly embarrassed that our hosts had had to open up the restaurant just for two, but we soon got over that when Sig. Padrone said it was just a simple meal – meaning nothing needing a long time to cook but just as plentiful as the other two nights.

We took our leave after breakfast the next morning, when we had two nice surprises. The first was that there had been an error on Booking.com which had failed to apply the winter rate, meaning our bill was somewhat less than we had anticipated. The second, and better surprise, was a small tub of some of Sigra. Padrona’s home baking to keep us sustained on our journey home. We had a truly lovely weekend, and not least because of where we stayed – which we can heartily recommend to anyone thinking of coming to the Perugia area and who wants to add a kilo or two over a short period of time.

We collected Bella and Harry late morning, who seemed very pleased to see us but none the worse for roughing it for a couple of days. They were, of course, glad to be back to home comforts and Harry, not one to miss the opportunity of being nosy or noisy or both, spent most of the afternoon asleep.

For them and for us it was back to normal, and the rest of the week passed very uneventfully. My lessons with Diego and Marzia restarted on Friday afternoon now that their school timetable had been finally finalised only a month into the new academic year, while yesterday we officially said goodbye to summer when Stephen effected the wardrobe changeover. This morning we went to Girasole, filling up with reasonably priced petrol on the way, where I stocked up on essentials from L’Erbolario – maybe not quite as exciting as the previous weekend, but just as satisfying in its own way.