Invitation to Italy 3 of 7
the story of how fascinating travel in Italy really is. It’s one thing to describe well-known cities like Milano, Roma, and even Venezia (Venice), but these little hillside and hilltop villages are so special, and thousands of them don’t even appear in a guide book. Our 100 year old Baedeker’s doesn’t mention San Leo, and our Michelin Guide has a few words as a footnote to San Marino. So if we are able to describe the approach road, the town square, the two churches, that still leaves the problem of relating the thrill of visiting such a place.
%FIRST VISIT TO SAN LEO
The weather was gorgeous as we left San Marino for our first visit to San Leo, about 20 miles away. At a red light Jim asked the San Marinese police lady if we were headed in the right direction, and of course we couldn’t understand each other in spite of all the hand gestures. Another cop looked at the license plate, then rattled off a sentence or two of German. They both burst out in laughter when Jim managed to inform them, “The vehicle license plate is German, the passengers are Californians.”
The first time we went to San Leo we stopped and admired the castle high on the tip of the mountain, and looked in horror at the road cut as a niche in the side of a cliff, that seemed to lead into town. As we studied further we saw that indeed the cliffhanger road went the right direction, then we watched as a car made a right turn and seemed to disappear into a hole in the cliff. Well, we are adventurous and we have driven places where we wished we hadn’t ventured, but we decided that as enticing as the castle looked from the distance, we weren’t foolish enough to drive our RV to San Leo. We sat and watched other automobiles disappear into what we thought must be San Leo, then went on our way. We knew San Leo had been mentioned in Dante’s “La Divina Commedia,” but it looked as if the road into the village, belonged in the section called “Inferno.”
OUR DRIVE INTO TOWN, NEXT TIME
When we returned a couple of years later we again watched a few vehicles drive up that unbelievable road, turn right and disappear, then to our surprise and wonder, there went a small city bus. We knew if the bus made it, we could make it. Imagine our apprehension as we drove up the niche, found huge mirrors that showed no traffic was leaving town, made a right turn into the “hole” that turned out to be the city gate, then up the narrow rough stone street and into San Leo’s town square. That look on the policeman’s face wasn’t exactly one of surprise, but he smiled and let us know that just to the right, then to the left, then, … well somewhere beyond, there was a parking lot. A parking lot that most likely hadn’t seen too many vehicles the size of our RV.
SAN LEO’S CASTLE
But what a fantastic little town. The magnificent castle perched on the edge of a cliff in the 1400s, was the one mentioned in the “Divine Comedy.” During the years since, it has been used as a prison, but recently it has been renovated and unlike most castles, is well worth the walk up the hill. Count Alessandro di Cagliostro was imprisoned and died here, and our Encyclopedia calls Cagliostro an “Italian charlatan.” He had talents for medical science, was a cheat (he pawned his mothers jewelry), a counterfeiter, a magician, a wizard, an Italian, and … … well, we’ll just leave it at that.
RENOVATION OF THE OLD CHURCH
San Leo has a glorious old church, the Pieve dell’Assunta, a Pre-Romanesque parish church, built in the 700s that was closed during our first visit, and was being renovated the second time we were here. We peeked inside and could see the building just filled with scaffolding that permitted the artisans to work on the huge pillars and the high ceiling. The magnificent stonework, both inside and out, was being returned to its original luster.
Nearby was the “new” church, the Cathedral, built in 1173. Get that, San Leo’s new church is nearly a thousand years old. Just to put those dates in prospective; the old church was four to five hundred years old before the new church was built; seven hundred and fifty years old before Columbus discovered America; and a thousand years old when our United States was founded. There’s no building in the US that compares to either church.
THE WEDDING PARTY
We watched as a small wedding party awaited the arrival of a car bringing the bride to the Cathedral. The groom met her with a bouquet of flowers, and the whole occasion was being recorded by three friends with video cameras. We stayed to the side, out of the way, since we looked out of place in our tourist grungies, while all around us people were dressed in finery, and San Leo’s Cathedral was embellished with flowers for the ceremony.
THE MOTORCYCLE CLUB
The next time we visited San Leo, just as we made the mirror-assisted turn we met a police car that managed to get off to the side, so we could continue to the center of town. Part of the town square was filled with tables loaded with food and drink, but very few people. A half-hour later we heard the roar as a motorcycle club came into town for a celebration of some kind. We were invited to partake of the food by the waiters and waitresses who either didn’t care who ate from the bountiful supply, or couldn’t tell the difference between travelers from California and members of an Italian motorcycle club.
ONE RENOVATION COMPLETE, ONE JUST STARTED
On our fourth visit we found the renovation of the old, old parish church was complete. We had arrived in town while the church was jammed with parishioners for the Sunday morning church service, but when the service ended, we were permitted to wander inside. The ancient glistening stones resounded with the myriad voices of the parish church organ as we enjoyed our examination of the freshened stone in this magnificently renovated building with the three aisles divided by pillars, and Roman columns.
The exquisite thousand year old “new” church just next door is built in what they call the Lombard - Romanesque style. Since the renovation of the “old” church is now complete, we weren’t surprised when we visited the “new” church and saw it was full of scaffolding, undergoing its turn at refreshment. Since we remember the interior as being wonderful and awe inspiring the last time we looked, we wonder how it can be improved. Well, we remember the glorious results when the stone was cleaned in the parish church across the way, and in huge Gothic cathedrals in several countries, so we intend to visit San Leo again someday soon to make sure they have completed the renovation of the new church, just as they did the old.
%GARDARA
Someone in San Marino told us to be sure to see Gardara, near the coast, just south of Rimini. It’s a mediaeval village, almost intact, surrounded by walls and battlemented gateways, with a fortress at the summit, and stores, hotels and restaurants as needed to support Gardara’s visitors. There are hundreds of communities like this, and each is delightful, but different. We paid 40 cents to climb to the top of the wall and walk around about half of Gardara. Captivating.
We joined a group of people who were watching as some men laid ceramic tile on an outdoor dance floor. Using sign language and pantomime, Jim “told” them that he had laid a lot of tile for several homes we had renovated, and Emmy was the boss and inspector and told him exactly what to do, and how to do it. The workers got a big kick out of that, and they encouraged Jim to help them lay the tile. Well, Jim had told just part of the tile story. Emmy really was the boss, but she was always right there on the floor helping lay the tile. She said that each 500 square feet of tile, took 10 years off her knees.
At a lunch wagon in the parking lot, we paid 1000L for a 10 inch diameter pastry that reminded us of the Hungarian pastry, they called Langos, that we bought in Vienna, years ago.
HARVESTING WHEAT
As we drove across the countryside there were rolling hills, hilly farm land, with farm buildings and small villages sprinkled throughout. Large farms cover this area, and we watched a “John Deere” combine with special wheels that will permit it to harvest grain on the side of the steep hills. The wheels are at the end of independently movable, hydraulically operated “legs” so the combine can remain level at all times. They also have very large crawler tractors for plowing the steep hillsides.
Chapter 8
URBINO, GUBBIO,
SPOLETO, TO TODI
%URBINO
It was a hot summer day when we found a shady parking place under some trees on the hill above the city of Urbino. Near where we parked and prepared lunch, we found the Strada Panoramica (City View) with a panorama of the city even Kodak had trouble reproducing. One of the most impressive overlooks of a town in Italy.
Whenever possible Jim parks the RV in a place where the view from our dining table is as grandiose as can be imagined. During our second and third visits we stopped in the parking lot below the Palazzo Ducale, the Duke’s Palace, and had lunch with a fantastic view of the twin, slim round towers of the Palace high above our lunch spot. After a bountiful lunch, one year we chose to climb the many flights of stairs, the other year we wended our way up one steep street after another, to the Palace, the cathedral, and to Urbino’s Piazzale Roma.
Above the town the name of a large set of buildings is spelled Ospedale, but is identified with a large capital H, the international identification for a hospital. Below the town is the very nice supermarket where we have shopped on more than one occasion. At night, the view of the floodlit city from Urbino’s campsite, is spectacular.
THE BIRTHPLACE OF RAPHAEL
As we walked into Urbino that first year we found ourselves walking down Via Raffaello, an extremely steep street (under repair with stinky, sticky tar), and we remembered that we must walk up later, just as far as we walk down now. Well, to coin a phrase, our eyes were almost bigger than our feet, but we did make it back from the center of town.
About half way down the steeply slanted Via Raffaello, we stopped to visit Casa natale di Raffaello, the birthplace of the painter and architect Raffaello. He was born in Urbino and lived here to the age of 14. A major portion of the Vatican Museum is called Stanze di Raffaello (The Raphael Rooms), and in 1514, Raphael became chief architect of Saint Peter's Basilica. He died at the age of 37, and was buried in the Pantheon in Rome.
SUBSEQUENT VISITS
Another year as we approached the city we found ourselves driving on a steeply angled street that seemed not to go where we wanted to go. Using hand gestures and a word or two of English, we asked a man if we could continue to Urbino, or did the sign say, “No.” As best we could make out, with his hands and a word or two of English, his reply seemed to be, “Yes the sign says you are not allowed, but this is Italy, so go right ahead.”
We found a place to park, then walked into the main part of Urbino and wandered around from here to there on the precipitous streets — it seemed most streets headed steeply uphill, almost none went downhill. The 1400s Ducal Palace with round towers, houses the National Gallery of the Marches, a museum and art gallery. (Marche is the name of this Italian Region or state.) Next door is the Metroplitana Basilica, an exceptional church built of white marble. As a wedding party left the church, a crowd of mostly teen-agers were cheering and throwing rice at the mid-to-late 60s aged bride and groom. We think they were more than family. We got the impression they were cheering for favorite school teachers, or some other well-liked public figures.
A lady in Urbino told this story. “In WW II my father had been fighting with the Italian army for 4 years and no one knew if he was alive or not. At last the war was over, my father returned home, I was born, and my birth was of Grace by the Holy Mother, Maria. My name is — Maria Grazia.”
Near a school (it had a “Femminile,” and a “Maschile” entrance) Emmy tried to hold a conversation with a lady and her son named Paul. He had been studying English for about three months, and while he tried very hard and did know some words, we got the impression Paul was surprised Emmy didn’t speak better English.
One year we drove from here toward Florence, and that was really a difficult job. We were on a narrow twisty road with many big trucks ahead of us, and who knows how many more behind us. Even if we could pass one or two or more, no way we can pass them all, so forget it — relax and enjoy.
%GUBBIO
Gubbio’s tall yellow ochre stone buildings with roofs of toast-like tinted Romanesque tile, are remarkable. Stair steps, streets and alleyways go up and down and around the steep hillside, and there’s a wall around much of the town. Gubbio has more than its share of beautiful churches and palaces. Tourist brochures list several of each, and a similar list could be made for any Italian town of comparable size.
To illustrate, Gubbio’s Cathedral was built in the last of the 1100s, the Church and Convent of St. Francis was built in the 1200s. There is the Church of St. Dominicl, Church of Santa Maria Nuoval, Convent of St. Marziale, Church and Convent of St. Augustine, Church of St. Peter, Church of St. John, Church of the Vittorina, Basilica of St. Ubaldo, Church of the Madonna Del Prato, and Church of St. Secondo.
The Government is well represented by the Ducal Palace, Beni Palace, Palace of the Captain of the People, Palace of the Bargello, and Palace of the Consuls. It’s a wonder that a town of 32,000 population (plus thousands of tourists), can afford the maintenance and upkeep of so many beautiful structures.
FESTIVALS
It seems that thousands of Italian towns hold ceremonious celebrations, and on May 15 Gubbio celebrates the “Corsa dei Ceri,” the Festival of the Ceri, which recalls the miraculous victory in 1151, over eleven nearby towns.
The “Ceri” are three colossal wooden constructions (some references call them “Giant Candles”), that are about 16 feet high by 3 feet in diameter. They are carried through the city streets (vertically) on a carrying frame called a “barella.” Vigorous men called “ceraioli” (members of Guilds, the merchants, masons, peasants and students), all dressed in multi-colored ancient costumes, race through the city, then to the top of the hill, to the basilica of the Patron Saint, Ubaldo, to whom the ceremony is dedicated.
This is not a race in the usual sense of the word, since the three Ceri arrive at the top of the mountain in the same order as they left. It is a test of great strength and the ability to make the run as far as possible without letting the Ceri fall. The 4.3 kilometer race consists of four “stretches,” with a 15 to 30 minute rest in between. Part way through the third stretch, the streets are so narrow and steep that the Ceri are placed on the ground, then carried horizontally through the Gate of St. Ubaldo. With the Ceri being carried on the shoulders of the ceraioli, the fourth stretch is about one and a half kilometers long, up-hill, with nine main roads and eight corners, as it winds all the way up the stony mountain road to the steps of the Cathedral of St. Ubaldo.
On the last Sunday in May, a festival called the Palio delle Balestra (Cross-bow Competition) takes place in Gubbio. The archers wear their ancient colorful costumes, and at the end of the match, a picturesque historic procession wends through the streets of Gubbio, all illuminated and decorated with flags for the festival.
AT A DEAD END IN GUBBIO
On our first visit to Gubbio we passed the signs saying “No Camper Parking,” and drove through those narrow, steep switch-back, exciting streets. We usually try to stay on streets where we can see trucks bigger than ours, so now when we saw none, asked a man if we could continue up, and up, and wherever in Gubbio. He motioned, and said in English, “No problem,” and he was right, a little, for a while.
The next few blocks were No Problem. But when the street became a dead end, it sure was a problem. After they found a lady to move her car, we managed to go back and forth a couple of times, backed into a church courtyard, finally we were able to leave Gubbio. A teen-aged girl who was born in Texas, but has lived in Gubbio for four years (she said she missed McDonald’s the most), said turn left at the fountain, but she neglected to say what to do at the next half-dozen intersections, blind turns, and narrow spots, but we made it.
We try to learn something from our adventures, and this time we learned to walk up and about the imposing city of Gubbio, rather than drive, the next time we were here. When we do something in the RV that causes or results from a traffic complication, or gives us a driving problem, we get the feeling some Italian is saying, “That looks like fun, I must try that some time.”
TEATRO ROMANO
Near the edge of Gubbio we discovered the ruins of an ancient Roman theater. The theater dates from the time of the Emperor Augustus, and is still used for classic performances in the summer. Whatever the opinion of traveling in an RV, no one could argue that lunch right next to an ancient Roman theater isn’t rather special! This lunch-spot (and hundreds of others) aren’t accidental, they are carefully selected.
FUNIVIA
A Funivia (chair lift) on the east side of Gubbio, takes passengers to the top of the hill, overlooking the whole area. It's called a Rope-Railway, and the “cars” are more like buckets, where three or four people can stand for the ride up the mountain to the Basilica of St. Ubaldo, at the top of Mount Ingino, overlooking Gubbio.
%NOCERA UMBRA
We parked the RV and walked the rough cobblestone streets past ancient stone buildings (many with balconies), and walked to the very top of Nocera Umbra. As we rambled we stopped in two or three buildings and watched major reconstruction that was under way. When we arrived at the top of the town, we found a large ancient church (in need of repair), and a very large modern supermarket. We had walked narrow cobblestone streets through the town to get here, but found a wide street permitted vehicles to come to the market from the other side of the hill.
The campsite nearby was closed, so we decided to spend the night in the parking lot near some apartments on the edge of Nocera Umbra’s Cittá Vecchia, the old town. Emmy had a bag of pencils from Disneyland and gave a few to children playing near where we spent the night. In every country, they recognize and cheer for Disneyland. One year in France, a little girl said, “If you could be in Disneyland today, why are you in France?”
THE CLOCK STRIKES
We wish we had taken more care in recording the actions of clocks in many towns in several countries. That could be the subject of a book in itself. In Nocera Umbra the clock struck the number of the hour at each quarter, proceeded by one, two, three, or four dings for the quarter-hour. In more than one place, the town clock struck the hour at each quarter, followed by the dings. In Mettlach, Germany, the home of Emmy’s cousins, the clock struck the hours on the hour, then one, two, three, or four clangs every 15 minutes. A special bell, sounded in a somber cadence, informed the townspeople when a man, a woman, or a child had died. We remember in France, and at least one place in Italy where the clock struck the hour, then 5 minutes later, struck the hour again, this time with a different bell. If the “dings” are mis-counted at the top of the hour, just wait a few minutes.
%SPELLO
The sign saying “No Campers Allowed,” or words to that effect, prompted us to park outside the old city wall, enter through the fine Roman Consular Gate built in the first century, then walk, walk, walk. Just a couple of years ago few people in Italy knew what a camper was, and now there are so many, we see signs prohibiting camper traffic, or parking. We remember in the late 1970s and early 1980s, when we traveled through Europe in a Dodge Camper Van, people would ask to look inside, to see what a camper looked like, and now there are thousands in every country.
Again, while not really neat and clean, Spello is picturesque and colorful. It was their lunch time, and as found in most places in Italy the stores were closed for lunch, plus the first couple of hours of the afternoon. We remember a variety of flower beds, especially one huge bed of tulips in full bloom in a city park. In Spello they celebrate the “Infiorata,” the Festival of the Flowers where the townspeople parade past carpets of flowers laid in precision patterns on city streets.
Some streets or walkways are angled enough to be slippery, but not steep enough to need a stairway. Every few feet stones stick up a couple of inches above the walkway, giving a chance to step, without the chance to slip.
About the newest looking building in Spello was the hospital, and one of the oldest was Santa Maria Maggiore (St. Mary Major), a Baroque church dating from the 1100s. A delightful town to visit.
Don’t get the idea that walking through “this town” is just about the same as walking through “that other town.” The word unique means “one of a kind,” but our thesaurus contains a dozen synonyms for unique — peerless, incomparable, matchless — still not nearly enough to describe these old villages with cobbled streets and stone buildings.
%FOLIGNO
This is another of the thousand towns and villages in Italy where a very important procession, observance, commemoration, or celebration of some historical importance takes place. In Foligno the “Giostra delle Quintana” takes place on the second Sunday of September, when a ring hung from the outstretched hand of the Quintana (a wooden statue from the 1600s), is carried away with the point of their spear, by horsemen in venerable costumes. The preceding day, there’s a procession of the 850 participants of the Quintana.
The beautiful Romanesque cathedral, built in the 1100s, is joined by an arch to the Palazzo Trinci, which contains a picture gallery in rooms adorned with interesting frescoes. The cathedral has a wooden door with geometrical decoration carved with saints and angels. We wanted to visit inside, but it was closed the day we were there.
%TREVI
A few miles south of Foligno on the east side of the highway, medieval buildings in the village of Trevi are piled on the top of a hill, surrounded by olive groves. We would imagine that the town itself, and the view from Piazza Garibaldi in the center of Trevi would be sensational. However even with our adventuresome spirit, we didn’t have the nerve to drive up the hill to Trevi. Perhaps if we had a small car, or even better, a motor scooter, the trip would be possible, but in the RV, never. Trevi may be small, but one reference says this was the fourth city in Italy to print a book.
Hundreds of hillside and hilltop towns just like Trevi are waiting to be explored, but unless we find the time and energy to walk those steep hills, we just look from the distance and admire. As we often say, WCSTA. (We Can’t See Them All.)
%SPOLETO
Spoleto is a very old, old town, with steep switch-back streets and long staircases all lined with stores, homes, and offices. We first drove up the steep hill, through the upper market place (the vendors were just arriving, the booths were not yet in place) around the upper part of the town, and finally found a place to park at the bottom of the hill, across the street from where we had started our “tour.” But we could find no way to enter and look around the old Anfiteatro Romano just down the street from the parking place. In one opening we saw dozens of bicycles and what may have been a repair shop.
The Amphitheater was built a few hundred years BC, and as happened so many places, enormous quantities of stone were later taken from the Amphitheater to build the Papal fortress, and other buildings in town. That is not unusual. Uncounted Romans live, work, and worship in buildings (including St. Peter’s Basilica) constructed with building stones from the “Coliseum Quarry.” In years past they had neither the tourist market to justify, nor the preservationists to insist on continued maintenance. Further up the hill the Roman Theater was constructed in the first century AD, and part of the city wall remains from several hundred years BC.
For some reason, the lower market area and the streets were crowded with high-school aged school children. Not just a few, but a large crowd. Never figured why, or what was happening. But that is not an unusual sight in Italy. Groups of school children are found touring towns and buildings all over the country. For example, Emmy’s cousins from Germany toured Italy by bus and train, as high school students.
“RUBBER” SIDEWALKS
We walked up the steep “main” street paved with stone, but with an added attraction we don’t remember elsewhere. Often stair steps are used to climb the vertically steep hillside from horizontal street to horizontal street. But in Spoleto, rather than stairs, these steep walk areas, laid with slick stones, were covered with runners of ribbed rubber so the pedestrians would not slip and slide as they conquered the hillside.
AN OLD HOUSE, AN OLD CHURCH, AND AN OLD LADY
Underneath the city hall, we paid a small sum for a man to open a door and turn on the lights so we could visit the elegant first century Roman house of Vespaia Polla. The floors and mosaic work are still intact, and in the atrium there’s a pool to catch the rain water. The reception room leads to the dining room in which there are still traces of the ancient decorations. Two small service rooms are next to the dining room.
One little old church just up the hill from city hall, built in the 1100s and restored a few years ago, was exceptionally clean and magnificent. Just lovely gray stone with not much embellishment, but gorgeous. We dropped a 200L coin in the slot, and the interior church lights turned on for a few minutes.
In the church courtyard Emmy stopped to smell the bundle of long-stemmed lilacs carried by an elderly lady. She was thrilled that Emmy cared, and insisted on giving her several of the flowers.
By now the upper market place was filled with fragrant disorder, with gaily colored fruit, vegetables, and flowers. The booths and tables were covered with produce and posies, the area between the booths was crowded with women with market baskets on their arms.
THE DUOMO
The area around the Duomo, the Cathedral, dates from 1198, and the San Salvatore Basilica was originally built in the 300s AD. The Duomo has five doors and a tall pointed campanile to the left. One year huge trucks filled with television equipment were filming a special occasion in this Cathedral. We have walked the long staircase, called Via delle Mura Ciclopiche, from the Cathedral down to the Amphitheater, a couple of different years.
In Spoleto, and later in Todi, the clock struck the number of the hour at each quarter, followed by an appropriate ding for each quarter-hour, unlike in Nocera Umbra where the dings preceded the announcement of the hour.
FESTIVAL OF TWO WORLDS, SPOLETO AND CHARLESTON
The interest in opera, art, music, and the theater has given Spoleto international fame for the “Festival dei Due Mondi” (Festival of Two Worlds), held in June and July. A sister version of this festival is held in Charleston, South Carolina each May and June, with 100 performances of opera, dance, and other such things.
THE CAMPSITE, AND MUSSOLINI’S LAW
In years past hotels and campsites throughout Europe required our passport be left at the desk overnight. Some still do, but many don’t bother anymore. One year the man at the campsite near Spoleto insisted, then showed Jim the book that was inspected and signed each night by the policeman from Spoleto. On each page of the log-book was the name and number of the law, and the date the law was passed, 1931. When Jim said that in the US no one bothered with a visitor’s passport, he responded, “This is a Mussolini law, and in the US you didn’t have Mussolini.” Thank goodness.
Next to us in this campsite was a large bus with 20 older adults from Germany. The bus was equipped with beds for each person, but the beds were in every little space high and low — certainly no privacy. They had an indoor kitchen for cooking their meals, and everyone seemed to have plenty of wine, much of it in paper containers like a milk carton in the US. An animated group, fascinating to talk with.
%TODI
We approached Todi, high on a hill, by driving up a very steep street, but while trying to find where we were and where we could park, we immediately found ourselves going down an 18% grade (so the sign said), on our way out of town. When we were here a few years later, we had exactly the same problem while coming into this village from a different direction.
Finally we found a place to buy bread for lunch, so we stopped and ate, then drove back up the hill into town. Since it was now their lunch hour we had no problem finding a parking place. As we’ve found in many places in Italy, and in other countries, if we arrive in a town a few minutes after the lunch hour starts, parking is generally available. The problem is, at some places the reason to park is also closed for several hours. When we park we have a place for lunch and a place to rest until everything opens again — a great motivation for travel in an RV. Then when everyone returns from lunch and is looking for a good parking place, we already have ours.
Todi is well worth the climb, either in a vehicle or by foot. It’s a charming town on a pretty site, and has preserved portions of three sets of walls: the Mediaeval, the Roman, and the Etruscan. In the center of Todi, the Piazza del Popolo is surrounded by buildings that illustrate the vigor of the commercial life in the Middle Ages. There are three palaces, a Lapidary Museum, a picture Gallery, museums, and the Romanesque Duomo, the Cathedral, was built in the 1100s.
Three-quarters of a mile to the west of Todi is the Santa Maria della Consolazione (Temple of Consolation), built in the 1500s. The plan is that of a Greek cross with a large high dome in the center, and four half-domes that are half the height of the center dome, hunkered at four “sides” of the central dome.
TODI'S BRASS AND COPPER STORE
The first time we were in Todi we found the most wonderful brass and copper shop, with the greatest selection of every kind, style, and shape of brass and copper pots, gadgets, and other items that can be imagined, with price tags showing just the lowest price we had seen anywhere. When we took our selection of flotsam and jetsam to the counter for checkout, the storekeeper copied down each price, carefully added, then placed a zero to the right of the total. A ten-fold increase in price. That was the end of that shopping spree.
We hadn’t yet learned, what we have seen several times since — that sometimes they just leave the last zero or two off the price tag. They aren’t trying to cheat, but why write that last zero or two, a thousand times? And the price in Italian Lire always ends in a zero or two or three, for each and every price. A 1,000 Lire note (worth 60¢ to 75¢, depending on the exchange rate) is the smallest denomination paper bill in circulation.
Just outside the town gate, in the “new” town area, we bought some groceries and made a phone call. We didn’t have to jam telephone slugs into this phone, because across the room on the wall above the cash register there was a dial, 15 inches in diameter. As we talked on the phone, the cost of the call was being registered so everyone could see.
WE CAN’T SEE THEM ALL
If the reader followed our advice many pages ago, and has an Italian map at hand, it must be obvious by now that we haven’t seen everything in Italy, and that we don’t write about any village or city we haven’t visited. A building or a special sight might be mentioned that we haven’t actually visited in that town, but we never write about a town we haven’t stopped to see. Check the map and see the great areas we have yet to conquer.
For example, in the approximately three hundred and seventy miles of Adriatic Coast between Rimini and Bari, we have seen only Pescara, and there is no reason to believe all of that coastline is not just as outstanding as the three small pieces we have seen. The same is true for large portions of the country. Do explore as much as possible, everywhere in Italy. We have yet to be disappointed.
Chapter 9
ASSISI, PERUGIA,
%ASSISI
The first thought that might come to mind when Assisi is mentioned, is the terrible damage the city and the Basilica suffered from the earthquake on September 26, 1997. A day or two later an aftershock caused a portion of the 278 foot high ceiling to fall, killing four people who were inspecting the damage. Television cameras recorded images of the beautiful colorful ceiling as it was transformed into rubble and a death heap. Major portions of the frescoes were lost as searchers ignored the art remnants and first tried to save the four men, then dug to recover their bodies.
Soon after the earthquake hundreds of thousands of fresco fragments — some the size of postage stamps, or even smaller — were gathered, sorted, and labeled, then laboriously pieced together in an attempt to restore at least a portion of the art. Two years later, on November 28, 1999, the Basilica was formally reopened to the public. Work continues to restore the pink stone buildings that have spread in a fan shape on the slopes of Monte Subasio for a thousand years.
The $37 million dollar project has so far restored only a tiny portion of the damaged frescoes, and the experts estimate that perhaps as little as 40%, or at the most 80% of the art, will be restored. Many people were concerned that priority was given to restoring the Basilica and its art, while thousands of homeless Assisi residents were spending their third winter in trailer camps.
We first approached the city of Assisi from the west, and could see the San Francesco (St. Francis’ Basilica) on its site on the point of the hill. The distant view of the church, extending down the side of the hill, is very distinctive. All in all, we think Assisi is one of the more special cities in Italy. Art in Assisi is essentially religious, and both the artwork and the architecture of the churches are impressive. In addition to the Basilica, there’s the Santa Chiara (St. Clara’s Church), the Duomo San Rufino (Cathedral), San Pietro (St. Peter’s Church), and the Rocco Medioevale (Medieval Castle) sits in the very center, on the hill above all. In the distance, on the flat land far below Assisi, Santa Maria degli Angeli boasts a grandiose basilica built in 1669, crowned by a magnificent dome. This Basilica contains Cappella del Transito, which marks the spot where Saint Francis died on October 3, 1226.
VISIT TO THE BASILICA
The St. Francis’ Basilica consists of two churches, one on top of the other, and the Crypt, on an even lower level. The Lower Basilica was completed in 1230, the Upper in 1253, and the third level down, the Crypt, where the Tomb of St. Francis is found, was dug in 1818. A large grassy lawn slopes down to the entrance of the Upper Basilica, and the entrance to the Lower Basilica is in the Piazza Inferiore, which is enclosed on three sides by a portico. Steps lead down to the Crypt.
We walked the zig-zag streets up to the Basilica and went inside to view with amazement the stained glass windows and the beautiful frescos that graced the walls and ceiling of the Upper church. The Lower Basilica has a low ceiling, is rather dark, but was also embellished with a very nice series of frescoes. (Fresco is the art of painting on wet plaster. The paint mixes with the surface, and becomes part of the wall. That’s what Leonardo da Vinci forgot to do with the “Last Supper” in Milano.)
This is one of many places in Italy where any language fails. A description that does not include a photograph would sound garish, gaudy, and tacky, none of which even begins to describe the glorious building, the stained glass windows, and the frescoes in the St. Francis Basilica. It would take days to see and appreciate all the art in this one church, one of thousands of churches in Italy.
ST. FRANCIS OF LA QUINTA
Near our home in La Quinta, California there is a Catholic Church named St. Francis of Assisi. In 1985 in the campsite in Warsaw, Poland when we met Henryk and Irena, the odds must have been 10,000,000 to 1 against exchange visits in later years. But when we visited this local church in 1987 to see the beautiful wall murals (not frescos) as they were being painted, our friends from Poland were with us and were happy to find that the artist, Alexander Rosenfeld, had been born a few miles from their home in Gdansk, Poland. In 1991 we visited Henrk and Irena at their home in Gdansk. It’s difficult to imagine 6,000 mile home-to-home visits with the people in the next room at the Hilton Hotel.
FESTIVALS IN ASSISI
As might be expected, festivals in Assisi are mainly religious in nature. At Christmas time there is the custom of sitting up cribs on some of the most picturesque street corners of the town, as well as in several of the churches. There are celebrations on Good Friday and Easter, and for the Corpus Christi procession streets are carpeted with floral decorations. On June 22 the “Festa del Voto” is held, and the “Perdono” is held on the first and second of August. The most important commendation is the “Feast of St. Francis,” the Patron Saint of Italy, held on October 3 and 4.
Other art and music festivals, concerts, pageants, and exhibitions are spread throughout the year. The most famous Assisi pageant is the “Kalendimaggio,” or May Day Festival, which lasts for three days.
PARKING LOT SHOPPING
Small buildings with shops that sell all kinds of things — clothes, costume jewelry, tourist mementos, and bric-a-brac galore — line the parking lot below the Basilica. In 1985, in a shop in the parking lot in Assisi, Jim bought Emmy a nice embroidered cotton dress for $15 and paid $5 for a purse. Years later that “parking lot” dress is still in use. (That’s because it’s still a pretty dress, not because Jim hasn’t bought her another one.)
VISIT TO THE CITY
Architects, masons, and stonecutters have given Assisi its incomparable appearance, and the narrow streets are lined with old facades with flower bedecked balconies. The town is still enclosed by the mighty ramparts, the three mile city wall, pierced by the eight main gates; St. James, Perlici, Moiano, St. Francis, New Gate, St. Peter, Capuchin and Sementone. It really makes a visitor feel he is in a bygone era.
During our first visit we were going to drive through the town, but a policeman stopped us and suggested the streets were a little too narrow for our RV, and some arches might not be high enough for us to traverse. We soon found he was right as we walked on the very steep, narrow, switch-back streets in Assisi, and up and down the flight after flight of stairs on the side of the hill, leading from street to street. During another visit dozens of building cranes filled the skyline, pointing to the buildings then under repair. One shop keeper said the 1985 earthquake caused much damage that was still being repaired in 1989. (The 1997 earthquake caused even more damage.) A storekeeper agreed when Jim said the crane must be Italy’s national bird. (A building crane, that is.)
Ceramic tile was being removed from the floor in a large room in a building near the St. Francis’ Basilica. Jim picked up a small broken piece and “asked” the workmen if we could take it to California as a souvenir. But the workmen happily insisted we take a full piece of tile (20 centimeters, or about 8 inches square) as a memento of Assisi. It’s right beside Jim’s computer, used every day as a coaster. A picturesque reminder of an incredible city. We also selected pieces of the special pink stone quarried from Mount Subasio, and used to build much of Assisi. The colors of this stone seem to come alive after a rain shower, turning red in the warm light of sunset.
As we have seen in other Italian towns, near the main door of many houses there is a walled-up door, narrower, with a much higher threshold. This is the “door of the dead,” which would only be opened to bring out the coffin containing the dead, and would then immediately be walled up again.
A MORNING VISIT
Camping Fontemaggio, where we have stayed on two of our four visits to Assisi, is miles above the city, reached by an almost impossibly misshapen mountain road. One morning we came down the hill planning to park in the lot below the Basilica, then visit that beautiful building and the city of Assisi. The downhill ride was almost as hair-raising as the uphill whirl the night before, so when we saw a parking lot we were sure was the one we had used in prior years, we parked.
Jim remarked that the church up the hill looked a little different than he remembered; that castle on the hill above the church was a surprise; the parking lot looked familiar, but he was amazed the stores had been removed from the perimeter of the lot. But surprise of all surprises, there was a two-story, canopy covered escalator, leading up the hill toward town. We never saw that before, anywhere. An escalator climbing the hill in a medieval city. Talk about contrast!
At the top of the escalator we walked higher through the town, then turned and walked down, down and down the hill, snaking through this most unusual city. Fruit and vegetable vendors filled market squares, pink stone houses and stores lined the narrow walkways, and we noticed that Assisi is kept clean and neater than many Italian towns. As we walked down street after street past buildings that are a thousand years old and look it, we admired the window and store displays, and found stylish things for sale, exhibited in an attractive manner. We also found they accept every type of credit card imaginable.
SURPRISE, SURPRISE
But the biggest surprise of the morning came when we arrived at the St. Francis’ Basilica. Now we understood why that parking lot and that church looked a little different, and there was no castle above the Basilica either. After we re-visited all three levels of the St. Francis Basilica, we walked down to the nearby parking lot and found we could ride a city bus a couple of miles up the hill, to return to where we had parked. Those parking-lot stores are still in business just where they have always been, but we weren’t parked where we have always parked.
There is always the problem with what we learn now that we wish we knew then. The church that didn’t look familiar from the parking lot, and that we didn’t visit, was The Basilica of Santa Chiara, named for Clara a friend of St. Francis. “A young woman of great beauty,” she later became Saint Clara. We have been to more than a dozen Roman arenas in four countries, and now we notice that maps of Assisi show an Anfiteatro Romano, on the Via Anfiteatro, even further up the hill than we had walked. We must return.
In spite of what we missed, it turns out that parking in that upper lot, riding the escalator up the hill, then walking those miles down the hill through Assisi, was one of the best travel ideas we ever had even if it was just an accident.
%PERUGIA
The first time we were near Perugia we were in a hurry to get to Assisi, so we just drove through the edge of the city and went on our way. That’s both a shame and a lucky stroke — a shame because it’s an interesting city, and lucky because it's a very difficult city to drive through.
On our second visit we discovered that instead of a little village with really narrow, really steep streets, Perugia is a city of 150,000 population with really narrow, really steep streets. While looking for a place to park, at one place a one-way street went down hill at a 26% grade, it almost felt as if the front bumper would scrape. We managed to return to city-center (since it’s on top of a hill, perhaps it should be called Uptown), and this time found a parking place. We walked around this fantastic city, visited Piazza Quattro Novembre, saw some beautiful buildings, bought some groceries at a market, then a policeman directed us down that 26% grade again. But what a fantastic city Perugia is.
A few years later as we neared the top of the hill, we passed two policemen who were supposed to keep traffic out of this part of town. They were either too busy, or didn’t care, so we were able to drive right to the edge of the city center and find a parking place in front of the Collegio del Cambio, or Exchange Building. This building was built in the 1400s for the money changers, and the inside is decorated with many frescoes and paintings. One picture, attributed to Raphael, shows his own likeness on one figure, and the woman he loved appears on another.
When we visit these ancient Italian cities we wonder who designed then built them, how many centuries did it take to build, how was it paid for, how many different “governments” ruled the city, and who renovated these architectural jewels as the centuries passed.
PIAZZA 4 NOVEMBRE
As we walked toward Piazza 4 Novembre one year, we met a group of high school students from Sardinia. We talked to one of the teachers (in English), and when we told her we had visited Sardinia a few years earlier, we were surprised that her reaction was as if, “Of course, all Americans visit Sardinia.” (Our son-in-law’s mother was born in Sardinia. Our daughter, her husband, and his family have been there, but we’ve met no other Sardinia visitor.)
It’s nice that cars are not permitted near Perugia’s Duomo, on Piazza 4 Novembre. (Named for November 4, a holiday the Italians won for WW I. April 25 is the holiday they won for WW II.) This Gothic Cathedral is very pleasant, but the facade to the Piazza Danti (on the other side of the Cathedral from Piazza 4 Novembre) was completed with a Baroque doorway. One of the octagonal interior columns had a piece of marble missing, and we discovered that rather than being built of marble blocks, the columns were actually brick, faced with a thin marble veneer.
During a visit to this Cathedral, with his interest in Italian classical art and Roman Catholic dogma, the Dutch painter Peter Paul Rubens, studied the painting “Descent from the Cross,” painted by Barocchio in 1569. Rubens then returned to Antwerp, and in 1611 created his work, “The Descent from the Cross,” for the Antwerp Cathedral.
Perugia is rich in art and architecture, including the medieval Maggiore Fountain, the bronze and marble Great Fountain, with sculptures by Nicola and Giovanni Pisano, that stands in Piazza 4 Novembre. The fountain stands between the Cathedral and the Palazzo del Priori, built from the 1200s to the 1400s. The priors climbed a majestic outside staircase to a little pink and white marble pulpit, from which they harangued the people.
OUR MOST RECENT, AND MOST EXCITING VISIT
After our most recent visit, we were sure glad we had the opportunity to walk and admire this city the previous times we were here. We drove into Perugia and stopped for lunch near the base of the hill. We remembered the traffic control in the center of town, but thought maybe they wouldn’t look so closely during their lunch hour — we were right, but a few minutes later we wished they had stopped us.
We drove up the hill planning to park as we had done the previous times we were here. Around and around we went, finding no parking place (even though this was lunch hour), but now a policeman insisted we go in the direction we didn’t want to go. Since we turned right and drove down that 26% street a few years ago, we thought we would outsmart them this time, by turning left instead. When we hesitated, a man standing at the curb pointed and indicated we should go on, “No problem,” he said. That seems to be the response we always get, maybe we need to “ask” a different question. (An Italian road map that we acquired from the Italian Tourist Office is identified in large print, “Italy, No Problem.”)
Now instead of the 26% downgrade that was mostly straight with a gentle turn, this street was at least that steep, with the added attraction of a narrow arch, followed immediately by a sharp, blind left turn. Well, we made it OK, but Emmy set a record for shrieking in G above high C, and thank goodness Jim’s pants were washable. By now we were in no condition to go back again just to take video of the Cathedral, and the Piazza 4 November. But we will return.
Chapter 10
Italian Riviera, to Genoa and Portofino
ITALIAN VOTERS
In 1980 while visiting a Travel Agency in Nice, France, we noticed a long line of Italians buying train tickets to their home in Italy. An election was scheduled soon, and the Italian Government would pay for a round-trip ticket from the border to their home, for an Italian who would return to his hometown to vote.
IN A TUNNEL, AT THE BORDER
One year, as we were leaving the French Riviera on our way into Italy on the Via Aurelia, we entered a tunnel that is right on the border to Italy. Soon we were stopped in a traffic jam inside the tunnel, near its eastern end. Since no cars were coming towards us we knew there must be a major traffic stoppage ahead. In the rear view mirror Jim watched people making U-turns and going back to France, rather than staying in the tunnel any longer.
Suddenly, a car entered the tunnel at high speed, and as it came from the bright sunlight, the driver was unable to see the next car start a U-turn not far behind us. In the rear-view mirror Jim could see a terrible crash, then a line of cars, all with drivers momentarily blinded, come racing into the tunnel. By the time the next few cars had crashed, we were worried about fire in the tunnel and were trying to decide if we should abandon the RV and run to Italy. Fortunately, just about then the cars in front of us started to move, and we were out of the tunnel in a minute or so.
The road was narrow, so even if we could have understood either language and could have been of help had we stopped our vehicle all we would have accomplished would have been to block the other cars that wanted to get out of the tunnel. A very scary situation. (A few years later a fire in the Mont Blanc tunnel in Northwest Italy, killed dozens, and a fire in a tunnel south of Salzburg, Austria, killed several people, so our fear was realistic, not paranoiac.)
At Ventimiglia, the first little town in Italy, there was a fair of some kind and crowds of people and cars, but we never found why traffic had been stopped for so long. Generally we like to stop to see a fair, but the town was so crowded we could not find a parking place anywhere near the center of activity.
RIVIERA DI PONENTE
There is a choice of at least two roads to travel in this area, the Autostrada, or the busy crowded “Main Street” that continues along the coast, through town after town, and city after city. Further up the mountain the Autostrada permits high speed driving through about 90 tunnels, many connected by a viaduct, in the first 90 miles from the French border towards Genoa. We don’t worry about breaking the speed limit on “Main Street.” Each time we have been here, traffic filled these streets from curb to curb.
We must emphasize that we try to keep off the toll roads unless it's really necessary. This “Main Street” will be crowded and parking places will be hard to find, but if time permits, please do not miss a chance to see home-town Italy up close. High speed Autostrada travel is a way to miss the very things we enjoy in Italy, but when we really need to get somewhere fast, the Autostrada is an excellent way to go. One year, we traveled the Autostrada from near Portofino, through Genoa to San Remo for a toll of about $20. Of course we saved many hours of driving, and many gallons of fuel, but we missed hundreds of interesting scenes and sights that we have enjoyed on other trips through this part of Italy.
The centuries old “Main Street” was named Via Aurelia, by or for the Roman Emperor Marcus Aurélius, a couple of thousand years ago. That name survives as it continues along the coast until finally it enters Rome, 425 miles away. We’ve spent several nights at Camping Roma, on Via Aurelia, on the west side of Rome, not far from the Vatican.
%IMPERIA
Another time as we entered Italy from the French Riviera we were informed that campsites were crowded, and we might have a problem finding a place to stay. Near Imperia we found a campsite perched on a narrow sloping place, above a steep drop-off into the Mediterranean Sea — we put large stones in front of the tires, just in case. Emmy walked down a long flight of stairs, then climbed down a ladder to get her foot wet in the Mediterranean Sea, on the Italian Riviera. There was no beach, she had one foot on the bottom rung of the ladder, the other in the Mediterranean Sea. Who said she doesn’t know how to enjoy her vacation!
%SAN REMO
One year at San Remo, about 14 miles from the French border, we drove near the beach and found no vacancy at a very expensive campsite. We drove a couple of blocks further and found the city of San Remo had a place for RVs right on the beach, and it was free. The moon-light shining on the Mediterranean at bedtime, met all the requirements of a romantic Riviera vacation spot.
The city recreation area included fields for soccer, and had the only official-looking baseball field (complete with bleachers and scoreboard) we have seen anywhere in Europe. San Remo has been a busy European vacation destination for centuries, and main street is lined with stores catering to the well-to-do tourist.
The mountains in this part of Italy run perpendicular to the Mediterranean Sea so there’s constant hill and valley all the way along here. It’s nice the Italian road-builders tunnel through the mountains, rather than cut the hills and fill the valleys as they do in many countries — this is much better. Towns of various sizes are sprinkled along the coast and in the hills, as well as miles of market farming and glass-houses used for growing flowers, and to grow vegetables “out-of-season.”
%SAVONA
Savona is a city built on a geometrical plan, and as in many towns in Italy it includes both a modern section, and an old town that includes Renaissance palaces. Via Paleocapa is lined with shopping arcades, and the narrow Via Pia is crowded with shops and shoppers. The nearby Cathedral was built in the 1500s, and a fortress ruin overlooks the very busy harbor.
Magellan’s pilot, who helped him sail round the world, is commemorated by the Pancaldo Tower.
%GÉNOVA
Génova is located on the Golfo di Génova, the northern portion of the Ligurian Sea, and is Italy's most important seaport and one of the largest in Europe. One time we saw the ill-fated cruise ship, the Achille Lauro, in Génova’s harbor. Another year it was docked next to our ship in Pireás, Greece, the harbor near Athens. In 1985 the ship was hi-jacked in Génova; in 1994 it burned and sank off the Horn of Africa.
This is a vertical city. Hundreds of palaces, streets, and quarters are built on different levels on the steep hills that surround the city like a mountain amphitheater. Steep flights of steps, funicular railways, and public elevators assist in the climb from the harbor to high above the city. At several places, high in the hills we saw apartment buildings with very attractive modern architecture style, different from others we have seen in this country. Besides their historic significance, a tour of the city walls, which developed along the ridge above the city, is a wonderfully panoramic drive that provides extraordinary views of the city.
Ten centuries of history meet and merge within the thick network of passageways that spread from the Piazza Principe to the foot of the hills. Unexpected works of art and the “key” to understanding the city of Génova, will be found while walking through the “carrugi,” the narrow alleys in the old town, left undamaged by wartime bombing. In Piazza Lavagna, a Flea Market permits the visitor to browse, bargain and perhaps buy a treasure that may be a century or two, or a week old.
This city is noted for its medieval, Renaissance, and baroque palaces, including the Ducal Palace (begun 1291), and the Doria Tursi Palace (16th century), now used as the city hall. The Cathedral of San Lorenzo, which dates from the 12th century, and the churches of Sant' Ambrogio and the Annunciation, are important examples of baroque architecture.
Christopher Columbus (Cristoforo Colombo in Italian; Cristobal Colon in Spanish), perhaps Génova’s most famous “favorite son,” was born in Génova in 1451. To honor another famous Génoan, Andrea Doria (1466-1560), statesman, soldier, and admiral of the Renaissance, an ocean liner was named after him. On July 25, 1956, the liner Andrea Doria sank in the Atlantic Ocean just off Massachusetts, after colliding with the Swedish liner the Stockholm. Fifty-two lives were lost.
ITALIAN RIVIERA DI LEVANTE
This part of Italy, from France around to Pisa, is a region called “Liguria.” The coast from France to Génova is called Riviera di Ponente, and from Génova to Pisa, Riviera di Levante. The whole area is generally known as The Italian Riviera, just like the French coast, west from Italy, is called the French Riviera.
Throughout the year tourists come from all over Italy and Europe to visit the beautiful Riviera di Levante, from Génova south along the coast. The road along the Sea is still called Via Aurelia, the old Roman Road that connected this coast and southern France, with Rome all those centuries ago.
The Autostrada from Génova south toward Pisa continues from tunnel to viaduct to tunnel, and on and on. We expected to find the campsite in Rapallo, but after a series of minor traffic and road repair problems we found ourselves in Chiavari, at a campsite right on the beach. It was closed for the season, but the owner’s daughter was able to convince her dad the Americans should be allowed to spend the night inside the campsite gate. He agreed, but insisted she open the gate when we were ready to leave. People who arrived later that night were required to park their camper on the street. The next morning the daughter, dressed in her pajamas, came and unlocked the gate for us.
%PORTOFINO
The drive to Portofino was on an entertaining, narrow level road right at the water’s edge, that followed the twists and turns of the coastline exactly. We drove through Santa Margherita Ligure a fashionable seaside resort — a good place to stay for someone who is going to spend much time in this part of the country. This pretty little seaport has given up fishing in favor of exploiting its balmy climate and good harbor to attract yachtsmen, newlyweds, and vacationers. From S. Margherita to Portofino the road was so narrow we had to stop, then maneuver back and forth and drive nearly off the edge of the road, when we met a small truck or the narrow city bus.
Portofino has no streets, only a parking lot, a bus stop, and places to walk. When Jim asked how long we could park in Portofino, the attendant replied, in English, “24 hours.” Not expecting the next answer, we said, “Fine we’ll just spend the night.” And he said, “No problem.” By this time we should have determined this is the standard Italian answer to most any question involving the movement of a vehicle.
We spent the rest of the day and evening just walking and looking and enjoying this small, but very famous sea-side village. The Duke and Duchess of Windsor, movie stars, and other wealthy people live(ed) in the houses on the hills that surround Portofino on three sides like a Roman theater. The yacht harbor is the stage; the beautiful yachts are the star performers; fishing boats play supporting roles; the row boats are the extras.
The houses didn’t look overly luxurious from a distance, but then no one invited us for a closer look. The stores around the small Portofino yacht sanctuary are branches of the most expensive boutiques found in Paris, Beverly Hills, and all those other places not well known to RV travelers. It looked as if the many sidewalk and beach-side cafes had enough tables and chairs so everyone in the town could find a seat.
Typical for Italy, many of the buildings could stand a coat of paint. Often when Italians do paint a building, they purposely do it with what appears to be faded paint, and in a style that makes it look like the building hasn’t been painted for years. They also paint Trompe-l’œil (made to deceive the eye) pictures on the outside walls. They create pictures of shutters and curlicues around the windows, pictures that are very realistic window decorations. Sometimes the artist creates the whole scene — windows bordered by shutters and curlicues, with curtains blowing in the wind. It’s truly a work of art.
From the top of the hill to the north of the yacht-filled harbor, there’s a beautiful view over the village and the coastline below. A pattern of small colored stones decorate the path in front of the hill-top church of San Giorgio, with the cemetery along side. Then we walked down and around to the lighthouse on the other side of the peninsula. From there we could see far along the beautiful Riviera di Levante.
As we found at other places along this coast, the delightful fishing village of San Fruttuoso is reachable only by boat ride, or by a walk that would take a couple of hours from Portofino.
OVERNIGHT IN PORTOFINO
Our camping spot that first year was in the parking lot behind a several-story apartment building. Maybe this was the first time anyone spent the night in Portofino, in an RV. The next morning, as we were preparing to leave, Jim watched a policeman walk slowly across the parking lot and approach the camper. With a big smile on his face and a wig-wag of his finger the policeman (who we had seen the day before), let us know camping was a no-no in Portofino, and we shouldn’t do it again.
A few years later we drove the same narrow road to Portofino, confident the policeman would not remember us, and certain we could again spend the night in this special little village. Jim didn’t remember that sign along the road that seemed to say, “No vehicles over 2.1 meters high,” but when we saw the small city bus, we knew we would fit. Well we just about fit until we got as far as the Portofino bus stop, then found they had built a new apartment building and a new parking garage right where we had spent the night, the last time. Now there was no place for us to park for even a few minutes, let alone spend the night. We back-tracked a few miles, found a place to park, then rode that small city bus to Portofino for a few hours of walking, looking and enjoying this enchanting tourist attraction.
Chapter 11
Cinque Terre to
Torre Del Lago Puccini
CINQUE TERRE, FIVE LITTLE TOWNS
A traveler from England, who we met in Portofino, told us not to miss the Cinque Terre, five little towns hung on the side of the mountain, right on the coastline between Levanto and La Spezia. In years past, the Cinque Terre could be reached only by boat, or by clambering down the side of a steep hill.
These five towns were given the name Cinque Terre sometime in the 15th Century. It was said, “… it surprised one to see such steep and craggy land, rocky and arid … ” and these towns were best known in those days for a special wine grown on the terraced hillside. Most of those terraces seem to be empty today.
Train tracks run through numerous tunnels right near the shoreline, with a stop in each little town. The narrow highway, after a fashion, twists down to the top edge of each town, to the local parking lot. We drove down the twisty mountain road, snaking down to a parking lot near the south end of Monterosso al Mare, the northern most of these little towns. The policemen let us know there were no empty spaces in the parking lot, and indicated the RV most likely wouldn’t fit, if there were.
They helped us get turned around and we retraced our journey up the miles of switch-back road, enjoying the beautiful view of the coastline and the towns of the Cinque Terre. When we stopped to take some pictures, we saw what looked like RVs parked on a little point of land, sticking out into the Mediterranean Sea, on the northern edge of Monterosso. So up and up we went, then down and down and around we went, and sure enough there were a dozen RVs obeying Italy’s “traffic hints and suggestions,” parked right under Monterosso’s “No Camping”
Tidbit by Jim and Emmy HumberdSimilar tidbits in: Book = Invitation to Italy, Travel Tidbits
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