The cicadas are still chirruping near this beach to the south of Rome. We have made our way here via a variety of stops. Leaving Suvereto, we continued on our way through the Tuscan hill towns of Montalcino and Montepulciano, each with its own magnificent red wine. If we are honest, we are quite hill-towned out! I probably preferred Montalcino, which is smaller and slightly less touristy (ie fewer decorated oil jugs, spoon rests, pan holders etc) to Montepulciano which is rather too full of, let’s be honest, people like us (though I do think of myself as slightly superior since I speak Italian!) Still, we enjoyed wonderful ice creams, which were a meal in themselves in Montalcino but resisted the temptation of the gloriously sticky cakes in the Art Deco Caffe Poliziano in Montepulciano, with its beautiful interior and wonderful views.
In both the M towns we stayed in camper stops, meeting nice Germans and grumpy Italians in one and trembling slightly at the grottiness of the other, though it did have a wonderful view over the Tuscan hills. We headed on into Umbria and had a night under the stars by Lake Trasimeno, at a camper stop right by the lake. Umbria is landlocked, which is difficult in central Italy but it does have this huge lake. We were entertained in the afternoon by the windsurfers on the lake: the wind was really strong and they were spinning around across the lake with great agility. The only trouble was, when they came on land, one of them lost his sail in the trees and its straps dangled tauntingly at him, just out of reach. Needless to say, he found this very frustrating….
Onwards into Umbria and it has to be said that by this time, we were in need of a good wash and we’d built up a nice bag full of dirty laundry. I was beginning to resemble Worzel Gummidge as my hair became more and more unkempt. A campsite beckoned and we hastened on to Assisi. ‘Quel horreur’ as they say, well at least they do in France (or do they?), the weather deteriorated and it became ever more cold and windy. This was not good news in a shower block which was open to the elements. So I gritted my teeth and prepared for a lot of leaning on the hot button. Fortunately the showers weren’t bad and as night fell, the floodlit Basilicata of Saint Francis beamed down benevolently upon us, starkly contrasted against the night sky. There are worse places to spend the night.
The next morning, we hopped on a bus in the morning to go and see the sights. I was rather apprehensive, I must admit, as I was worried that it would be knee deep in pilgrims and rather too busy a place. I had bad memories of a trip to the Vatican, where I was almost trampled down by large numbers of nuns, anxious to see the Pope, whose arrival was imminent. Happily, it was all quite quiet and subdued. The only nuns around were on their best behaviour. Unsurprisingly, there were plenty of monks around; I did rather worry, as one does, about whether they felt cold with their bare feet and open sandals. Are they allowed to wear woollen socks? I wondered. Alan spotted one in a rather dashing trilby hat, which we thought was rather fun.
I really liked Assisi, the Basilicata with its wonderful frescoes was absolutely lovely and it is a beautiful place. Yes of course, we had the tourist tat, this time of a religious flavour with Pope plates, statues of Saint Francis and so forth. I don’t think the saint would have approved at all. Nevertheless, a good place. We ambled back to the campsite, fortified by a good lunch and downhill all the way. Just as well, as it was quite a stretch.
It was time for a bit of an adventure, so leaving Assisi behind, we headed for the mountains. We went towards eastern Umbria and the lovely Val Nerina, with spectacular autumn colours on the mountains in the bright sunlight and yes, hairpin bends. We managed to find a rather handy square of concrete on the outskirts of a small village called Gualdo, up in the mountains, so we parked up and strolled around the very small village. We stopped by the restaurant which sadly wasn’t open that night, owing to the ill health of its owner Domenico, who generously gave us coffee and home made liqueur. It looked like one of those places where you could eat genuine local dishes and products. I will return, I have his card, together with that of the leather man in Montalcino and the sausage man in Norcia and so on….
So onwards towards Norcia via the beautiful Piano Grande, a wonderful, wide, open upland plain surrounded by mountains which look a bit like hump back whales. It was a slightly eery, empty place, the only people there were hikers or day trippers. It reminded me of pictures of Central Asia with its vastness. We continued on, up more hairpin bends to an empty hillside road with very little traffic. So we simply stopped and sat outside in the sunshine, giving the occasional nod or smile to the equally occasional passing car, bus or lorry. It would have been a beautiful quiet starry night but a full moon was imminent, so we couldn’t see much!
And then, we really did get to Norcia the next day. Home to the best salami and pork products in Italy and also to Saint Benedict, Norcia is a pretty mountain town with a large pedestrian centre, complete with sausages dangling at every corner. We duly bought a couple of salamis and stopped to eat them for lunch on our way to Lazio……but that is for another day.
The beady eyed among you will have noticed that I started this near Rome. I’m actually writing the end of this in Cyprus! So much has happened that I will have to tell you the rest shortly.