Assisi to Orvieto

I’m tempted to stay another day it’s so pleasant in Assisi (and I wouldn’t mind catching more of the view and less of the fog), but I catch word that there is going to be another transportation strike from Sunday night to Monday night. That would mean I would be stuck in Orvieto an additional day. If it weren’t for the fact that the cheapest accommodations there are 30 EU, that would be fine, but at this point in my travels, I’m getting cheap; I know there are quality, inexpensive options out there and I’m aiming to find them. Thus, I will be moving on today.

I have breakfast again in the hostel (which still feels weird) and then set out for town. I had hoped things would be a little clearer – which they are – but not to the point that re-tracing all my steps from the day before is going to yield anything new. So I catch a few, easy to reach glimpses, utilize the free internet for a while, and then head back to the hostel to collect my bags and head for the train.

The UK girls (two on the left and last on the right) had told me that it was a flat walk to the train station if I continued to walk down the hill, away from town (where I had originally walked when I passed the hostel). It would take me about 30 minutes, but it seemed like a considerably better idea than hiking back up that hill with all my bags.

Unfortunately it had taken me a little longer to get back from town than I thought it would, so when I reached the hostel, I only had about 37 minutes until my train. It was going to be a tight connection. But I did my best to high-step it out of there and make good time toward the station. But the road was a bit gravelly and uneven, and I was again struggling with a toppling bag and beginning to berate myself for choosing this option. Yes, the hike would’ve sucked, but I would’ve been on time. (When will I learn?)

But once again, someone comes to my rescue. This time it was a priest (no joke) in a tiny car. He offers to take me to the train station and has my bag in the trunk before I can even protest. It’s too far to walk, he tells me. Oh, I see….We chat a little, and he is friendly enough but we’re there in about 3 minutes. (I’m definitely on time.) I say good-bye and grab a quick bite to eat before I board the train. It’s funny, accepting rides from strangers is starting to feel normal now…

Fogged In

I had planned on doing all my sight-seeing today and soaking in the grand, sweeping views of Assisi and beyond, but when I woke up, there was fog everywhere; dense, enveloping, view-ruining fog. Well that certainly throws a kink in my plans. Looks like I’m going to take it easy today instead.

It’s been so long since I’ve been to a hostel that serves breakfast that, after I’ve eaten and gone out the door…I don’t quite know what to do with myself. I don’t really need a cappuccino or a brioche (though I’d have taken them if you’d given them to me), so it seems silly to make a breakfast pit stop, and with the fog and all, I’m not really sure what I’ll be able to see….(insert pathetic whimper here) what should I do!?

I settle for cruising past the internet places again, but they’re still closed (too early). I decide to head in the direction of the café where I met the Austrians, but that is closed too. As I’m pondering my next move, I run into one of the Asian UK girls and another of our roommates I have yet to mention, who was from Japan. We make plans to meet up for lunch (because what else have I got to do?) and then I head back toward town to find a café. Even if I don’t get “the usual,” it’s still a good way to get my bearings and plan out my day.

So I stop at one of the first I see (no need to scrutinize the pastries…), order vanilla tea, and set up camp. But even though the sight-seeing here is über-limited (basically a couple churches and the views), I’m still in no mood. So I spend more time making chicken scratch notes about my trip and lounge the entire morning away.

I head straight from there to the restaurant to meet the girls. I can see right away that it’s kind of a spendy place and I hope it’s not a problem for them. But they like the look of it and we go right in. The specialty here is grilled meat, so we all order it, as well as sides and split the wine. A gentleman at a nearby table had suggested the lamb, so of course that’s what I ordered. I also had the mashed potatoes and they were so heavenly, I can’t believe it’s taken me this long to try them. The meat was spectacular and like our favorite meat joint back home, Ipanemas, it was grilled on an open fire. And in fact, the fire was right in the middle of the room – mmm, delicious!


After the feast, I discovered the girls had not yet tried panna cotta. Oh! Well! We’ll have to do something about that! They have all three kinds here as well, so I choose chocolate (I like to be equitable between the flavors) and they both choose fruit. The presentation is again, excellent, and they cannot get over how good it is. In fact, they spend the rest of the meal thanking me for introducing them to panna cotta. It’s the least I can do.

We split up after lunch, but Eileen (the Taiwanese girl from the UK) admonishes me to be a proper tourist this afternoon; I simply must! So I heed her advice and climb back up to the top of town to do Rick’s self-guided tour. I check out what used to be a Roman amphitheater, some cool backstreets of the city, two minor churches, a castle, and the city center before I am deposited at the base of the town at the church of St. Francis – the good ol’ hometown boy himself. (On my way through town, a sign catches my eye: Why are we Rick Steves’ favorite café? Free internet, hot chocolate, paninis….wait a minute! Rick’s favorite?? I whip out my copy of Rick to confirm and realize what I thought was Rick’s recommendation (Il Duomo Café) is actually a red herring. This café (Café Duomo) was the real deal. Augh! Of course they are only two-steps apart and I could have been using the internet this whole time. D’oh!)

When I get to the basilica, I consider getting the audio guide, but it’s 75 minutes and I just can’t talk myself into listening for that long, so I opt for Rick Steves instead and just read about what I’m seeing as I go along. I’m satisfied with that decision and very much enjoyed the basilica as well as St. Francis. He lead an interesting life and was so passionate about God (and relating to God through nature) – all very cool.

I walk out of the basilica just in time to catch an incredible sunset. I literally run from strategic place to place to try and catch as much of the gorgeous pinks on “film” before they’re gone. That sure was an unpredictable treat; fan-frickin'-tastic!

After that I’m feeling quite good, so I decide to head down to the hostel for a quick rest and to pick up my computer before I climb back toward the other end of town to the real internet place to blog and get something small to eat (lunch was pretty big, so I’m not craving much) before calling it a night.

Dinner and Repeat Characters

After all the fun with the Austrians, I can’t really concentrate on writing anymore, and my tummy is a rumblin’, so I head over to my pre-selected restaurant.

When I get there, I see that it is the restaurant of a hotel. Hmm, well, I guess that doesn’t really matter – so I go on in. I’m seated right away, but the waitress (who I can tell immediately must own/operate the joint) tells me (in Italian) that because of the large American group (and she sweeps her hand to indicate the entire restaurant), there are limited options. I say that’s fine with me, so she runs through my choices and I select vino rosso and gnocci con pomodoro.

I eat and enjoy my meal and gather via observation that everyone else in the joint is eating the SAME meal. They must really all be in one, ginormous group. I flag my server friend down and ask her as much in my basic italian and she confirms it is true. I then realize she is actually doing me a favor to be serving me at all (since the others are not eating gnocci in a red sauce...)

It comes time to pay and she tells me it is only 8 EU. This is a screaming deal. I ask her if she is sure that is all, and she says yes. I pay her, heap my thanks on her and take my leave. Such kind people! I love it here!!

By now it is quite dark and I’m doubly glad I have the flashlight the Bowkers gave me before I left. Not only is it completely black out, but the road is quite narrow and there is barely enough room for me and a car to squeak by. So I’m thankful to a) have the ability to see where I’m going, and b) be able to warn cars that I’m on the road.

I get back with nary a problem and check-in (finally) and head to my room. There are 8 beds in the room, but only one is occupied at the moment. At first I think, “Oh no – not one of those it’s-8:30-and-I’m-going-to-bed-so-be-quiet-ers,” but when she turns to look at me as I come in, I recognize her. “Hey! I know you!” I say, “Wait, don’t tell me…..Tanya, right? I met you in Siena!”

We chat for a while, catching up on stories over the last week, and Tanya fills me in on Assisi. She too thinks its weird that monks, etc. are sight-seeing (with their vow of poverty and all). I counter that they are people too – so why not? “Because they are supposedly God’s vessels,” she says. I’m about to interject that anyone/everyone is God’s vessel (and even He rested on the 7th day...), but three other girls come in. They are from the UK, taking a break from their PhD studies. Two are from Taiwan, but studying in the UK, the other is English. Everyone is extremely friendly and as a group we actually chat the night away. Feels more like a slumber party than a hostel…

As I’m drifting off to sleep, it occurs to me: I am the only one in the room who is not in some way, shape, or form pursuing a PhD. Sheesh! What an underachiever I am...

An Unexpected Cultural Experience

After wandering around a bit, I find the café Rick was talking about, but it’s closed (rats!). So I locate the TI, pick up a map, and ask about other internet places. I go on a scavenger hunt to find them, but they too are closed (boo!). After the last one, I decide to get something warm to drink and sit down with my thoughts for a bit so I can get my bearings on some kind of an agenda while I’m here.

I bravely order a cappuccino (it being so late in the day) and I bust out Rick, but…turns out I’m not in the mood to plan. So I scrounge out a scrap of paper and start to pen a blog. Not long after, a group of about 10 people come into the café (which is tiny, btw. There are only two tables inside...one of which I am occupying), order a bunch of beers and after asking my permission, make themselves right at home at my table and the table next to me. Now I am literally sitting in the middle of a circle of sight-seeing Austrians.

Even though they are all speaking German to me, they have friendly faces and I like them already. The gentleman immediately to my left speaks a little English and asks me where I am from. Each tid-bit of information he gets is shared with the group and devoured like a scrap of meat among hungry dogs. They are very interested in me. One of the women points to my hand, wanting to know if I am married. I hold up both of my naked ring fingers and indicate: no – I am single. Another woman points to what I am writing: is love letter? (Don’t ask me how she knows this and no other English.) Hahah, no – I’m writing about my travels to everyone back home.

At this point their conversation carries on, but I can no longer follow it, so I return to my writing. Soon though, the last members of their group are finally seated and one of them does speak English. So we exchange the usual travelers pleasantries and I learn they are here for the 60th birthday of the gentleman to my left. (Italy seems a popular place for milestone birthdays.) As soon as we exhaust the remedial topics, he immediately asks me what I think about the president. It takes a moment for this to register (as we now have a new president and I don’t have a pre-selected answer on hand) and I’m not really sure how to answer. For one – I’m not sure what I think yet*. And for two – I know NOTHING about Austrian politics, so even if I had an actual, concrete opinion, I wouldn’t know how to present it to an Austrian. So I dodge the question. I say, “Well, we’ve certainly made history, but it’s only been 2 days – let’s see what he does, eh?” And to my great relief, he seems satisfied with this answer.

The others at the table have no idea what we’re talking about so one of the women butts in again to ask him to ask me how old I am. 27, I proudly reply, and this creates a tizzy of action and lots of words from the woman. I ask my new friend to translate and he summaries with, she thought you were much younger. (That much I can see for myself…) Next she becomes distressed about the tiny piece of paper I am writing on. Clearly this is not suitable. She scrounges around and comes up with a blank sheet of 8.5 x 11 paper (what the…??) She is adamant about me using this. I am kind of partial to my scraps of paper, but I accept it anyway and tell her I promise to use it (which I do in a few days time).

Soon they are on their way, waving enthusiastic good-byes, and wishing me well. It’s back to just me at the little table and I can’t help but chuckle at the whole experience. (Andi, I felt a little bit like I did the first time I met all the Aunties at your engagement party…slightly overwhelmed, but flattered by all the keen interest.)

*Keep in mind that since I was out of the country, I wasn't able to vote. Thus I hadn't put a lot of thought into this year's election; doesn't mean I am necessarily pro or con Obama. I just hadn't made a decision yet when I left and then didn't vote, so I didn't have to (make a decision that is). I know - I cringe just thinking about that, let alone admitting it to blog readers everywhere, but it's the truth, so I'll own up to it.

Arrival in Assisi

I made it to Assisi by early evening and was able to catch a few, breath-taking glimpses of this famous small town before the sunset. The bus dropped me off at Piazza Unitá di Italia, but I had to walk, down, down, down the hill toward the hostel. The dusk sky and lush greenery were ample reason to slow my pace. In fact, I was so distracted by the scenery that I walked right on by the hostel and continued too far down the hill.

When I finally did find it, I was huffing and puffing (and ready to blow the house down). I try the door, but it’s locked. Ohpleaseohpleaseohplease don’t be closed for the season! Nope, just not open until 4:00 – whew! (No WAY was I hiking all the way back up that fatty, fatty hill I had just come down: no way, no how.) A sign indicates that I can leave my stuff around back so I walk around back to investigate. I’m not sure if I want to leave my bag, or just wait it out until 4.

As I’m deciding, a door opens and a woman confirms that the hostel opens at 4 and I can check in then. But if I want, I can leave my bag inside. Sure! I look at my watch and it’s 3:35. I’m standing inside with my bag, and she’s standing there with me and it’s 3:35. So….I can check in at 4? Yes, 4:00. So…I should just leave this here then until 4? Yes, leave your bag and come back later to check in. At 4? Any time after 4, yes. (Can you tell I hoping she’d let me check in now? We’re both standing there….I mean really.) But she wouldn’t budge. So I left my bags, stripped off my three layers of coats and scarf, and headed back to the hill.

Once I make it back to the Piazza (people were staring at my like I was a lunatic because it was pretty cold outside and I wasn’t wearing anything on my bare shoulders – but I didn’t care; I was DYING I was so hot from the climb up.), I hop on the bus to Piazza Matteoti at the top of town. Obviously it makes more sense to take the bus up, and sight see my way down. After my sauna-inducing climb up, I’m definitely savvy to that plan. I figure I’ll do my best to get my bearings, find the internet café Rick recommends, and scout out a place for dinner.

As I wander through town, I see a few nuns checking out the shops, a couple of priests admiring the architecture and some monks driving a car. I don’t know why – but it seems really weird that “holy people” are sight-seeing. I mean hey, they have every right to; under their funny robes, they’re people too! But it still seems weird...