I first began to dream about walking the St Francis Way when I visited Assisi on a trip to Italy in 2019. While traveling, I was reading about St Francis and his wanderings. I promised myself that the next time I visited Assisi, I would arrive on foot.

So I studied the route that runs between Florence and Rome and chose a week of walking that would take me over some hills, into some charming Umbrian villages and through the woods into Assisi. I selected a week in spring, invited a friend to join me, and we made our plans to return to the Way of St Francis the following year.

But then the world changed and we all stayed home. My friend and I did our walk anyway, but each in our own hometowns, walking the number of miles we had planned to walk each day in Italy. We read Richard Rohr’s book about St Francis, Eager to Love, and we talked on the phone since we couldn’t walk side by side.

After that season, I set aside the St Francis Way, or the Via di Francesco.

And then all of a sudden, it returned to me. A group of friends and I were talking in January about a doing a walk in September and as I was suggesting options, I remembered that I had a walk all planned that we could do. The document with all my old plans was still on my computer, the days and miles all mapped out.

What if we walked in Italy this year? 

And so a plan came together.

The dream of walking in St Francis’ footsteps that I had released was ready for a different time.

Five years after I had originally planned to go, I met my friends at the bus station around the corner from the railway station in Terni.

The four of them came running around the corner towards me. I stood in front of a bus where I had persuaded the driver to wait just a little longer for mie amiche!

It was a hilarious start to the week!

I waved them all on to the bus and handed the driver the tickets. Then I went back to greet and hug them in their seats, where they had collapsed from running to just barely make it.

We rode the bus to Arrone, a quaint Umbrian village set up high on an outcropping of rocks.

Over drinks by a pool at a guest house, we caught up on the months since we had last been together.

Day 1: Arrone to Ceselli
10 miles (+ a few extra)
900 ft

The next morning we started out, as all walks begin, with our first steps out the front door of our guesthouse and through the town. We picked up snacks along the way for a picnic.

Soon we were spotting trail markers and signs for the St Francis Way. Blue and yellow stripes, sometimes the “T” or the Tao that folks often wear as a sign of St Francis. It looks like the plain brown robe he wore.

It was a cloudy, damp morning. We ended up in raincoats quickly after starting out, but then we took them off and on all day long. It was never hot, but walking warmed us up enough to shed layers.

The path winds northward out of Arrone through the Valnerina valley with Apennine mountains to the west that were shrouded in mist for most of the day.

We decided to add on a few miles this day to go and see a 12th century monastery that was up on the hill, just a little bit out of our way, the Abbazia San Pietro in Valle.

To get to the abbey, we climbed through the quiet village of Macenano.

We couldn’t actually go into the abbey but we could view it from the trail that went around it.

It seemed like the kind of place that would be cool to go and to disappear to for a while, and I believe you can actually go and stay as a guest.

We came back down from the abbey to re-join the trail by a different route and it began to rain again.

There were a few more miles to go during which we had rain and sun alternatively. We reached a crossroads where I had arranged a taxi because we were staying about four miles off the main trail in a converted convent. Santa Croce in Sant’Anatolia di Narco.

As we stopped to wait on a bench outside a house, the owner came out and talked to us for a little while. She was horrified to learn we were waiting for a taxi. You will be robbed! You should just walk to where you’re staying…it’s not far! 

As the taxi was already coming, I assured her that we would be ok. But she turned out to be right. The driver charged me five times what he had quoted me. (We opted to walk back to the crossroads the following morning.)

But we were grateful for the ride after all the extra miles of the day. And we loved the beautifully restored convent where we spent the night.

And our host sent us around the corner to have dinner in a small trattoria where all our food was divine.

Of course, everything tastes better when you walk all day.

Day 2: Ceselli to Spoleto

12 miles (+4 back to the trail)

3000 ft

The next morning we started out with a visit to small shop for lunch snacks and then our walk back to the crossroads from the previous day. The four miles back was fairly flat and easy, and it wouldn’t be until much later in the day that we would feel the extra miles we added on in the morning.

Once we reached the crossroads at Ceselli, we had a big climb west into the hills. Gratefully, it was a beautiful day with no rain in sight.

We climbed all morning up into the woods, on switchbacks and rocky paths to get higher and higher.

The views were beautiful over the valley from which we had come. Even though this was by far our hardest day, it was also a gorgeous walk.

We climbed all the way up to a small chapel where a man who calls himself a modern day monk lives a simple existence in the hills. He serves up coffee and tea for a small donation. We filled our water bottles and chatted a while before continuing the last little bit of the climb to the top.

Once you crest the hill, you come down into Monteluco where St Francis set up one of many monasteries in the area.

You can actually visit this one and wander around through the ancient halls to see where St Francis and his fellow companions spent their days.

The cells are so tiny. It is wild to imagine a daily existence in these little rooms. We didn’t linger for as long as I would have liked.

A long descent to town was still ahead of us before our walking day would finish.

But I loved seeing the quiet refuge and would happily return for a longer visit.

There is also a sacred forest surrounding the monastery. It has been a place of walking meditation and prayer since St Francis’ day.

After leaving Monteluco, the path down to Spoleto seemed to go on forever.

This was definitely the moment we felt the extra four miles of the morning. Though they had been easy miles, they were making these last few all the more grueling.

But it was a sweet moment when we saw the bridge to cross over into the town of Spoleto!

This bridge has been recently restored after being closed for many years. We were so grateful as an alternate route around the city would have been unbearable at this moment. As it was, we still had a little ways to go to another convent where we were staying for the night.

We stopped for a drink to enjoy the view and to celebrate finishing up a 16 mile day!

Spoleto is beautiful! And if we were not walking away the next morning, we could have found plenty to occupy ourselves with, but we needed only a meal and a bed before we would head on our way.

We found both. The convent where we stayed seemed like two more miles away though it was only about half a mile. That’s how the end of the day always is. We had dinner in a place where there is no menu. The owner’s mother just cooks food in courses of whatever is in season. It was a small restaurant but every seat was taken. We were lucky to get squeezed in at the last minute.

The food just kept on coming! Every time a new dish would come out, we would wonder if we should be saving room for the next one. There was no way to know.

When I asked the host how many courses were left, he just shrugged his shoulders and said it was up to the cook.

Soon we were so full that we couldn’t possibly face another plate of food. We tried to pass some of our extra off to tables around us as we didn’t want to offend.

By the end of dinner, we were laughing so hard. We were deliriously tired and we could not eat one more bite of food.

Finally, our host released us, stamping a placemat multiple times with the sign of St Francis as we had left our pilgrim books at the convent.

Then we rolled ourselves down the hill to find our much-desired beds.

Day 3: Spoleto to Poreta

10 miles

2000 ft

The next morning we had a somewhat meager breakfast served by nuns at the convent.

Afterwards, I ran down the street to a shop to get some extra lunch supplies as I knew we would be hungry again soon.

Also, I grabbed a few things to cook that night for dinner as we were staying out in the middle of nowhere but we would have a kitchen.

Then we set off through Spoleto and into the countryside where we were quickly surrounded by olive trees.

Olive groves became a theme for the rest of our trip. We walked through and around and alongside olive trees for the next four days.

It was another blue sky, beautiful day. We still had some climbing to do, but it was spread out over the day instead of all at once like the day before.

We had our lunch in the sun on the steps of a church in a little village.

There was actually a tiny little shop in the village so we grabbed some wine to have with our dinner that night. You had to ring a bell for the shopkeeper to come and open it up for you as she lived next door.

Whenever I walk with these ladies, I have to work in extra time for all the dog greetings.

This group stops for all the animals, but especially dogs.

But we made it to our little farm stay in the country by early afternoon. The farm had a swimming pool.

It was still a little too cool to swim, but perfect napping weather.

We were miles from anywhere, so I made us some lentil vegetable soup which we had with bread and wine.

We played cards and all enjoyed not having to leave to go find a restaurant for dinner.

Day 4: Poreta to Trevi

8 miles

1700 ft

The next morning we set off from the farm through more olive trees.

We passed a couple who was harvesting their olives. When we stopped to watch, they invited us to join in.

So we stopped for a little while and harvested olives, which was actually so fun.

They were pulling the olives off with little toy rakes like you play with at the beach. We all grabbed one and started raking the olives onto the nets on the ground.

Of course, raking olives for a few minutes is not the same as doing it all day. Such hard work for precious olive oil.

We soon told the farmer goodbye and headed off on our way. We saw several more olive harvests happening as we walked. Some farmers had machines that shook the olives off the trees.

We walked around an old walled town, Campello sul Clitunno. We briefly considered a detour, but decided to continue on towards Trevi, which we could soon see in the distance.

Before getting to Trevi we climbed the trail to another old convent. The convent and its inhabitants were locked away behind a big stone wall and a large gate. There was a bell to ring if you were hoping to gain entry.

Even though it was our shortest day, it seemed a like the town took a long while to get closer to us and then we had to climb up into it. But it was worth it as we all loved our stay in Trevi.

We had our rooms in the old center of town in what felt like an old palazzo. We found a square with a table in the sun for drinks and a rest before exploring the rest of town.

Because we had a slightly shorter walking day, we had a little steam left to enjoy walking around Trevi, which was one of my favorite stops of the whole walk.

After a shower and a rest, we went back out for dinner. In addition to a lovely meal, we found a street named for St Francis!

Day 5: Trevi to Spello

12 miles

1300 ft

As we walked away from Trevi the next morning, we stopped at a viewpoint to take some photos. Then our host drove by and spotted us, so he stopped to take our photo for us.

We hadn’t actually seen him the evening before, so we told him how much we enjoyed our stay and loved our rooms. He wished us well and told us to come back again to Trevi.

We stopped in the next village for coffee, which was a treat. This day felt a little Camino-esque because there were places to stop along the way.

We went through another bigger town (Foligno) where I had to put blinders on the gals so they wouldn’t wander into the shops.

I marched them on through, so we managed to get to Spello in time for a late lunch.

We still had our snacks in an olive grove, and many hours along country paths under bright skies.

And so many olives!

It was another hill climb to town, so when we reached Spello, we sat down in the first chairs we saw to have a rest and some snacks.

This day actually felt warm, so I ordered gelato for the first time and it was delightful.

We ended up exploring Spello a little bit after lunch before we walked to where we were staying.

Our rooms were outside of the old town.

Per usual, it felt much longer on the way there than on the way back in the next morning.

So we bought a picnic dinner from the store on the way out there.

We were in some little cottages on the outskirts of town that had cute little porches where we watched the sunset as Spello turned pink in the distance.

Over dinner we decided we would split up the next day as there is an easy way and a hard way into Assisi.

Day 6: Spello to Assisi
8-10 miles
1400-3000 ft (depending on the route)

For the harder route, you climb over a hill and descend into Assisi from the mountain. On the easier route, you stay low and skirt the hill.

Three of us took the easier route, and I sent my two ambitious gals off for the ascent.

On our final walking morning, we went back through Spello together and then split up at a fork in the road.

So for three of us, it was a leisurely last day into Assisi. We stopped for lunch in an olive grove.

And we meandered along the final steps of the way at a gentle pace.

We arrived just in time to check into an apartment we rented for a couple of nights.

We had a little garden where we could sit in the sun and rest and wait for friends to arrive.

The longer route turned out to be quite a bit longer and they didn’t arrive until almost 6pm. So we had an early dinner and saved going to the church for our official finish the next morning.

We were all glad to be reunited and had a fun evening catching up and playing cards.

The next morning we headed off to explore Assisi and get our pilgrim books stamped at the end of the route.

I’ve written before about how much I love Assisi. It was much busier this time than when I was last there. But it’s still just beautiful and you can always find a quiet corner or spot to people watch.

We ate well in Assisi. First, a beautiful lunch outside.

And then some gorgeous pizza for dinner on our last night together.

The pizza place served the biggest calzones I have ever seen.

We celebrated another beautiful week of walking together in a new place!

I would return to the St Francis Way again as I loved the section we walked.

And also there is plenty more of the trail to explore.

Thanks to Diane, Rhonda, Patti and Kathy for trusting me to lead them on this pilgrimage!

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Wisteria and Tuscany just go together for me.

Maybe it’s because I usually seem to visit Italy in the springtime, so many of my memories there are draped in the violet boughs.

I love wisteria anywhere though, and I seek out its fragrant blossoms wherever it grows: behind the church in Arkansas, in a walled garden in Aberdeen, on honey-colored cottages in the Cotswolds.

But perhaps the reason I link wisteria so firmly with Italy in my mind is from countless rewatches of the film, Enchanted April.

At the beginning of the film, two women meet in rainy London and form an immediate bond over an advertisement for the rental of an Italian villa for the month of April, which they end up renting with two other strangers. The newspaper ad leads with an invitation to Wisteria and Sunshine.

My spring pilgrimages to Italy might just be my way of answering that advertisement myself.

This past April, after two years of cancelled trips to Tuscany, it was time to return.

I met my friend Jane and her husband, Jesse, for a glorious celebration lunch in Pienza. We were giddy with joy to be back in Italy after the world had shut down and international travel had been inaccessible. After a two-hour lunch, we headed off to the gorgeous villa where Jane hosts her retreats, Fattoria del Colle.

I was not there even an hour before I headed out for a walk. I threw my backpack into the luxurious three-room apartment that would be my home for the week, and then I took off skipping through the vineyards and olive groves. It took me a while to negotiate the fallen branches and neglected pathways before I reached my destination:

the tiny village of Trequanda, where the wisteria grows.

Mini Walking Stories is a project I’m doing this month to catalog a fabulous year of walking. During December, I’m inviting you to come along with me for a few minutes on one of the walks I took in 2022. Read more stories here.

The post Mini Walking Stories: Find Me Where the Wisteria Blooms appeared first on Alison Chino.

Snapshots of Rainy Siena, Italy: A Few Days in the Heart of Tuscany

It’s been three years since I wandered a hilltown in Italy by myself.

My trip to Orvieto and Assisi was well before I watched with the rest of the world as Italy was ravaged by a pandemic, a memory that is clearly fresh on the streets of Italy as they require N95 masks in all public places.

But I boarded a flight this week for Pisa and then hopped a train to Siena because I’m returning to Tuscany for a retreat that has been cancelled and rescheduled twice.

I always like to visit somewhere new in Italy before I head over to my friend Jane’s retreats, so I chose Siena, a town that is on the way to Fattoria via Italy’s impressive train network.

I stepped off the train on a rainy afternoon and proceeded to drag a suitcase all over Siena’s stone streets for the better part of an hour before reaching my little hotel room.

I passed through Siena’s main square, Il Campo, where everyone goes to watch the horses race in the summer and where both locals and tourists gather for drinks and people-watching.

I returned to the square after checking into my hotel room to start a city walking tour. Often when I am by myself, I download a walking tour from Rick Steve’s Audio Europe app. The one for Siena was just over an hour, so I popped in my headphones and started walking.

The center of Siena is all pedestrian, so it’s perfect for a walking tour. (I do love a car-free city.)

As I walked up the hill from the main square to the Duomo, I passed shops, restaurants and palazzos.

After peeking into a courtyard with an ancient well, I soon found myself rounding a corner and staring up at the wedding-cake like structure that is arguably the main attraction in Siena, Il Duomo.

The last time I passed through Siena, I didn’t have time to tour the Duomo, so I planned to take my time seeing it this time around. I bought a 2-day ticket to the church, the crypt, the baptistry and the museum next door.

I started by walking all around the outside on the wet marble.

The tall tower looks even taller than it actually is. Optical illusions are used to make both the tower and the inside of the dome appear taller than they are. On the outside the stripes of the tower are painted closer together as they get higher to give you the impression that the top is further away.

The next day I climbed an adjacent building and took a photo of the tower where you can see the way the stripes are stacked to create this impression.

I spent a long time inside the church looking up at the dome and then at all the floor mosaics and the library of VERY OLD choir books. They were giant so that the whole choir could look at them all at once, so I guess you could say they are the 16th century version of the overhead projector. Except the pages were made of sheepskin and then painted in great detail by monks.

Back outside the church, I continued my tour down the steep steps to the baptistry which is around the back of the church.

I was sure I was going to fall down these wet, steep stairs, but you’ll be glad to know that I made it down them in tact.

I guess hand rails weren’t really a thing in the fourteenth century.
Side note: Be sure to wear sensible shoes if you visit Siena.
I feel like this goes without saying when visiting any European city but I always see folks traipsing around in the most crazy shoes. And don’t get me wrong, I have mad respect for gals walking through the rainy, steep streets of Siena in heels, but that’s never going to be me.

My audio tour took me next to a viewpoint below the Duomo where you can look out and see another of Siena’s famous churches, San Domenico, which I would visit the next day.

By this point, I was soaking wet, so I grabbed a few snacks and made my way back to my hotel.

Oh but first I stopped for gelato (hazelnut and pistachio, in case you’re wondering) because rain or shine, I’m going to have gelato on my first day back in Italy after three years.

 The hotel where I stayed has a courtyard covered in wisteria, so I walked around back there to take in the views before calling it a day.

It’s at the edge of the center of Siena so the courtyard looks out over the Tuscan hillside.

Day 2 started with breakfast at the hotel. Cappuccino, of course. Plus pastries, fruit and yogurt.

Fueled and rested, I headed back out into the rain.

The rain was falling even harder than the day before, so I was properly soaked before I reached the Duomo museum.

Once inside the museum, I carried my dripping raincoat at arm’s length while viewing the original statues and stained glass from the church. In the last 50 years or so, replicas have been put in place in the church and the originals have been moved to this museum in order to preserve them.

A couple of favorites:

John the Baptist. I was hoping to see Donatello’s John the Baptist in the Duomo, but it is currently on loan to an exhibit in Florence. So this one by Jacopo Della Quercia stood in as a decent substitute. I really love it when an artist renders John the Baptist as crazy as I imagine he was. I think of him as being similar to John Brown. I imagine they are now friends in a corner of heaven alongside Jeremiah and Isaiah, all of them railing against corrupt kings, American slave-owners and injustice with equal passion.

Madonna and Child. Since I missed most of Donatello’s Siena work, I was grateful to find this sculpture by him in the Duomo museum. Mary’s face and hair resembles other sculptures I’ve admired of Donatello’s, always exquisite. And the blue glass inlays are a fun touch. Good stuff.

At the top of the museum you can take some stairs up to an archway that was meant to be part of the original church, but is just a facade or facciatone. Because of the rain, we were only permitted to walk out on the first level, but it was well worth doing for the views.

In addition to the photo of the church from the higher point of view, I took MANY photos of Siena from the other side of the walkway.

From these photos, you can understand why we have a crayon in our original box of Crayolas called Burnt Siena.

Siena is known all over Italy for this reddish brown color.

It’s hard to tell, but from this viewpoint, you can see Il Campo which has the tall tower just at its edge.

After climbing up high for the view and touring the museum, I was ready for a little something to eat.

Pizza and Vino. Yes, please.

After lunch, I made my way further through the streets, past shops and restaurants.

And through more rain naturally.

I passed many umbrellas before reaching the Basilica of San Domenico.

San Domenico has a chapel that is dedicated to Saint Catherine of Siena. It actually houses both her head and one of her fingers, which is a bit creepy but well worth seeing. Catherine, who influenced popes and politics in her time, is beloved in Siena. Her body is entombed in Rome but the people of Siena were determined to have some of her remains, so the story is that they stole her head and finger to bring her back to her hometown.

I was properly wet again by the time I got to San Domenico, so I sat for a while in the church, which is far less busy than the Duomo.

I lit some candles, said some prayers, wrote in my journal and enjoyed being out of the rain.

From the outside of San Domenico, you can look back at the center of Siena and see both the Duomo and its tower on the hill to the right.

And then to the left is the tower that dominates Siena’s main square.

The rain had slowed to a light drizzle by the time I left San Domenico, so I walked slowly back through the city once more, stopping for tea and a pastry along the way.

The next day it was time to wave goodbye to lovely Siena and make my way to a beloved villa and familiar vineyard.

What a delight to be back in Bella Italia!!

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Last May I returned to Italy for two weeks.

While I was there I visited Montefiascone, Civita de Bagnoregio, Orvieto, and Assisi,

and afterwards I returned to a place in Tuscany that I’d been to once before.

As I came up over the last hill, and glimpsed the familiar vineyards,

my eyes filled with tears.

Because even though I had only been to Fattoria del Colle once before,

it felt a bit like coming home.

As soon as I arrived,

one of the waiters found me a seat at a celebration meal that was already in motion.

It didn’t matter that I hadn’t been invited,

or that I wasn’t expected,

just that I was there.

Here you go. Here’s a plate. And cutlery.

Family style plates were passed down to me.

Everything smelled delicious.

I had arrived in the middle of the second or third course and around me people were laughing and talking, enjoying the slow pace of a well-prepared lunch.

At some point,

it was mentioned that I was a vegetarian,

and a special dish of vegetables was immediately prepared and delivered to my seat.

I turned to Jane, at whose invitation I was there, and laughed that I was not even hungry.

She had arrived before me and experienced a similar welcome.

We were early for her retreat that was going to start in a couple of days,

and we had come in upon a lunch that was being served in honor of the bishop’s presence.

I had missed his presiding over mass earlier in the small family chapel that is part of the estate of Fattoria del Colle, the vineyard and agriturismo that is run by the regal Donatella. (I believe that she is the only female wine master in Italy.)

It was Donatella’s estate that I was returning to, and in her rooms that I would be sleeping for the following week. And her presence fills the whole place. Everyone there exudes her same hospitality. They make you feel at home.

Jane runs several retreats in Italy every year, and we were celebrating the release of her book at this one. She was offering yoga and massage, and had invited an astrology teacher. We were expecting a large group from all over the world.

But first we had a couple of days to adjust and settle in.

This time I stayed in a room on the edge of this courtyard garden.

From my windows, I could see the lemon trees.

It was as dreamy as I had remembered,

and newly magical.

This regal bedroom is where my precious friend Cherrie stayed, who came to offer massage on Jane’s retreat.

The retreat staff got to eat together and hang out for a day or so before guests arrived.

We wandered the nearby town, Trequanda.

And of course dreamed of what it would be like to live all year long on the sweet pace at which life rolls in Tuscany.

Cherrie and I went on a drive through the countryside to a nearby vineyard.

Spring was in full bloom everywhere. Such a perfect time to be in Italy!

I had time to watch the sunset (and rise!) from a hidden courtyard.

And of course plenty of time for coffee and homemade Italian biscuits.

When the guests arrived, our days were filled with yoga and teaching and long visits around the table.

We also made a group day trip to nearby Siena.

It was my first time to Siena, and though it was a bit cold and rainy, we made the most of it.

I took lots of photos of classic Italian town corners, doors and alleys.

I love all the colors.

And arches!

And leather of course! Cherrie and I finished up all our souvenir shopping in Siena.

It was impossible to find a time when everyone was together, but this is a good portion of our group of retreaters before we completely scattered over Siena.

When I got up early on my last morning in Italy to drive to the airport, I said a sad goodbye to these Tuscan hills as I drove.

But I always promise to return as I fly away. From my very first trip to Italy many years ago, I knew I would come back again and again.

Knowing I will return frees me to enjoy the days in slow motion, not having to see everything at once.

On each trip I take in just a little bit more of the beauty of Italy, a new town or two. A new walk in an old town. And then I also return to familiar and well-loved places.

Looking at these photos makes me super grateful that I’ve already got Italy on the calendar again for 2020.

Want to go to Fattoria del Colle with me on a Radiant Jane Tuscany Italy Retreat?

I’ll be heading back in April! Details here. I would LOVE to have you come along to experience dreamy days in Tuscany with me!

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What can I say about Assisi?

I hardly know where to begin.

Maybe it’s best to start with the ending.

As I left the convent in Assisi, the same nun who welcomed me in, took hold of my face and kissed me twice, blessing me on my way.

With tears in my eyes, I opened the door from the monastery into the tiny courtyard where my car was parked. The nun opened the gate for me and waited while I slowly negotiated pulling my car through the gate, out onto the street facing the Basilica of St Francis and up the road through town that led to the nearest arched exit way.

I drove slowly, but confidently, nothing like I had driven into the city two days ago, afraid and unsure. Or sure that I was going to hit a wall or another car, or even worse, a person.

I had laughed on the phone to my son the night I arrived, that if any of the kids had been in the car with me, they would have been yelling at me and saying there was no way I was supposed to be driving on these roads.

I had arrived at noon on a Sunday, probably not the best time to drive through tiny streets filled with pilgrims to Assisi. But faithfully following my map, I drove higher and higher, until I was right in front of the most famous church in Assisi and heard the words “You have arrived at your destination.”

I had no idea where I was supposed to go. I was in the middle of a road filled with people and no place to park, when a small gate to my left opened up so that a car could exit the courtyard. Had a car not pulled out, I’m not sure I would have known to pull in, or how to get the gate open or even that the gate was for me to enter.

This small miracle of the gate opening just as I arrived is what my entire visit to Assisi was like.

The same sister that kissed me when I left watched me park my car and welcomed me in. She spoke only one phrase in English (Everything is ok?), but somehow managed to communicate to me without words that I was welcome, that I must be tired from the journey, that I could find rest here.

Slowly and deliberately, she led me to my room on the top floor.

My window looked out over the roof and caught the far left edge of the Basilica.

It was my favorite of all the rooms I stayed in on my trip to Italy (which is maybe why I have 92 pictures of it). I can’t describe why I loved it so much.

Maybe it was the replica of St Francis’ famous cross on the wall.

The simple wooden desk.

The old wardrobe that had extra pillows and blankets.

The sweetly made bed.

The way soft light came in the window at sunset.

Or the way the colors of the roof tiles seemed to change throughout the day.

I don’t know, but I could have stayed in my room the entire time I was in Assisi and been happy. I can’t think of a more perfect place for a silent retreat.

Except maybe for the place where St Francis himself enjoyed silence and solitude, the forests above the city of Assisi, in the shadow of Mt Subasio.

About an hour’s walk up the mountain from Assisi is a Hermitage (Eremo delle Carceri) where St Francis and his companions enjoyed communing with God.

A statue of him welcomes you to the silent, sacred woods.

You can descend into the caves where he prayed. You can step on the ground where he walked.

I walked these quiet woods for a couple of hours, noticing the remnants left by those who’d come before me: crosses made of sticks, stacks of rocks, prayer cards and rosaries.

I wondered how many folks have come and left their worries and woes among these stones and trees.

I only saw a few others there (maybe 5) and only on the main path through the Hermitage.

Many trails left the main path, up and down the mountain. They were all marked with funny signs, warning that you shouldn’t undertake to walk the steeper trails unless you are trained. I am certainly not “trained” but I dared to trek off the main trail to see the caves where saints hid away. I hid myself for a while from a passing rain shower and to lift my own prayers.

I stacked rocks that probably no one but God will ever see, piece by piece. One for each of my loved ones.

I had already visited the churches of St Francis and St Claire the day before, the hallowed, holy places where their remains are laid, but I think maybe there is something more of them in the woods, in the quiet Hermitage.

I had walked on the road to get up to Eremo delle Carceri, but I took the official Via Francesco through the woods back to Assisi.

I’ve been reading a biography of St Francis while traveling and I was carrying it with me, so I stopped on the trail down to read a few chapters and eat my picnic lunch.

All day the sun played hide and seek with me, so when it was out, I would find a spot to soak up its warmth and dry out my damp jeans.

After I found my way back into Assisi, I wandered around aimlessly taking photos.

So this seems like a good place to insert a LOT of pictures of Assisi:

After a while I went and found a quiet corner of the Basilica. The Basilica of St Francis is divided into the Upper and Lower Basilicas, and the walls of the upper one are covered in 28 fresco paintings of Francis’ life (all by the famous painter Giotto).

Every time I walked through the church, I would look for whatever scene I had just read about from the biography. This time I sat next to the fresco of St. Francis kneeling in front of the Crucifix of San Damiano, from which he heard the voice of Jesus speaking to him.

I’m reading Paul Sabatier’s biography of Saint Francis, which was written in 1894, so there are modern notes from the editor throughout. (The biography has been so beloved that Paul Sabatier even has a street named after him in Assisi.)

It’s been such a lovely companion to my time in Italy and especially in Assisi. After I read about St. Francis giving away all his clothes in the market square, I walked through that very square and back into the church to see the painting of this scene.

When I read about St. Francis leaving Assisi through the Porta Nuova, I walked to that gate to see the blessing from him written on the walls.

After hearing about his journey to Rome to get his Rule approved, I went to see the painting of his meeting with the Pope.

I went twice to the Church of St. Claire to sit in front of the very Crucifix that played such an important role in St. Francis’ conversion.

And I saw the habit he wore, made out of rough brown wool, hanging next to the clothes of St Claire.

The stories were brought to life all over the town. When I first arrived in town I climbed to the north edge of town to see the old castle, Rocca Maggiore, where you can see the whole city of Assisi.

The town of Assisi is not really that large, less than a mile long and even shorter in width, so I walked it several times during my stay, always making my way back to the sweet little room at the top of the convent of Angelina di Montegiove.

My next project will be to read something more of her. There was a note up in the convent that explained that she began this order of Franciscan sisters to be a more open group of women, so that they might be a refuge for mothers and sisters who found themselves without protection after the death of a husband or a father. Her idea of being less closed off to the world around her was somewhat radical in her time, and in fact, was rejected at first, but she succeeded in founding the order in 1403.

The sister I met certainly carried on her legacy. At breakfast, she walked around the room touching us all and wishing us well. Whenever I saw her, she would look directly into my eyes and softly say,

“Everything is ok?”

And somehow, even with all the things in the world that are decidedly not ok, I could smile back at her and nod, sincerely feeling that in those moments, yes, everything is ok.

I’ll leave you with the prayer of St. Francis that is posted in front of the Crucifix of San Damiano:

Most High, glorious God,

enlighten the darkness of my heart and give me

true faith,

certain hope,

and perfect charity,

sense and knowledge, Lord, that I may carry out

Your holy and true command.

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I WISH you could have heard me in the car when I got my first glimpses of Orvieto coming into view!

“OH MY LORD, you have got to be kidding me!”

I actually pulled the car over. (Because it’s just me and I can do that if I want.)

The whole day had been green and blue and beautiful, and I’d already been wowed by the (not dying) city in the clouds, so I was just blissfully heading to the next stop on my itinerary,

AND THEN WHAM!!!

Orvieto showed up with all the BELLA!

I drove up into the tiny city lanes, talking out loud to Google maps,

“Um I’m not sure this road is for cars.”

“Also it’s awwwwfulllly steep!”

But the directions were right and before long I found the next monastery on my list, Villa Mercede. It was housed in an old Palazzo right across from the famous Orvieto Duomo (so fortuitously convenient!) and I was meant to park inside a garden next to it.

But first I had to drive through a TINY gate…that one on the left that looks like a door for people not cars.

And of course there was a car behind me waiting to get by while I took my time lining up straight to get through the little bitty hole in the wall.

I was not sweating at all when I got out to check into my room. PHEW!

But bless! The director was so extra lovely and he gave me a room with three beds (Where are my friends???) with window views out the back over the garden and a corner view of the Duomo square.

What’s that you say? What is the Duomo?

HERE YOU GO!

Excessive photos of gargantuan church that is very old (1290).

Oh wait! That was just the outside!

Lucky for you, I didn’t take too many photos inside. (They never quite capture the grandeur anyway.)

I stayed in the church for a long time. Twice actually.

I sat with this Pietà for a while. (Ippolito Scalza sculpted it from marble in the 1300s.)

I’ve always loved these representations of this moment after Jesus’ death and I found this one particularly moving.

From the other side you can see Mary Magdalene’s cheek resting on Jesus’ hand. Her hand on his foot. Her devotion is so beautiful to me.

But maybe the most interesting story about this church is that it houses a cloth that a priest spilled the blood of Jesus on.

Apparently he was struggling to believe in transubstantiation when his Host started bleeding on the altar cloth.

The cloth is housed inside a special case inside a whole special chapel that is dedicated to this little piece of material.

There are a BUNCH of churches in Orvieto. A couple more I spent time in were San Bernardino (which was right next to where I was staying) and San Giovenale (11th century, oldest church in Orvieto).

I love the quiet of a church after walking around a city. I can sit for hours staring at fresco covered walls, meditating and praying.

I sit pleading for peace over all the ways the world feels excruciatingly violent. Bombs sent by computers to wreak havoc on already war torn countries and the sting of poverty and suffering in the lives of individuals.

I am struck by the fact that Jesus is able to contain it all. He is not overwhelmed. He does not despair.

Like many before me, I find comfort in being able to look at artists’ representations of His face. Sometimes the face of Jesus is in agony and I can see that he knows suffering. Sometimes his eyes are full of compassion, grace and peace. And I am newly comforted by Him.

They say that an artist who painted Jesus always left his eyes for last because they are the most important. For the people gazing at the representations of Jesus, the eyes can be our window, an opening by which we truly see something of Him.

I loved this mosaic in San Giovenale Church. I would think the eyes of Jesus would be even harder to capture with mosaics.

Anella della Rupe or A Walk Around The City of Orvieto

If you look closely at the bottom of the cliff on which Orvieto is built, you can see a path running around the city.

It’s called the Anella della rupe.

You reach it by taking one of the five exits out of the city, which are marked on these signposts on the trail.

It’s a long descent from the exits, sometimes by winding trail and in some cases, spiral staircases.

I did part of the loop on my first evening in Orvieto and then finished it the next morning, but it could be easily done all in one day.

I somehow managed to lose the trail for part of the way (not unusual at all) and ended up walking on the road and picking it back up later after the Necropolis Etruscan di Crocifisso del Tufo (ancient tombs).

They were excavated over the last 100 years or so, but the spring growth all around them made it feel like maybe they’re disappearing again.

There was a high school group there listening to their teachers lecture about the tombs with the ancient lettering. Most of the students seemed super bored. I was thinking how totally unaware they were of how superior their field trips are to that of American high school students. But then I realized that my kids would probably be bored too if I was dragging them around old tombs.

But that didn’t keep me from wishing they were there, even if they would have been griping at me when I lost the trail.

When I found the way back (after asking someone…haha), it wasn’t that hard to understand how I’d lost it.

Hello spring green covering up the steps back to the trail!!

I followed it the rest of the way around the town and entered Orvieto again in the medieval quarter, through its oldest gate.

This part of Orvieto seemed to always be quiet when I was walking through it.

So it kind of became my favorite.

Which is why ALL THE PHOTOS!

I also happened upon a precious ceramic artist in this quarter.

Her name is Anna and she sold me a jug I’m going to use for holding water for my sourdough bread when I get home.

Before leaving Orvieto, I took a few photos of the garden behind the monestary. The director told me I could leave my car parked there as long as I wanted after I checked out, in case I wanted to spend some more time in Orvieto.

When I was eating my breakfast that morning, he told me to be sure not to hurry.

“Take time. Take time.”

I did take my time in Orvieto.

It’s always a treat to stay somewhere that so many people day trip to, because it’s empty at the beginning and end of the day.

I remember feeling that way about Manarola as well.

But soon it was time to drive back out into the green hills of Umbria.

Next stop: Assisi.

The post Snapshots of Orvieto, Italy appeared first on Alison Chino.

Snapshots of a A Walk to Civita di Bagnoregio, an ancient hilltown in Italy reachable only by a pedestrian bridge.

So 2500 years ago, some very ingenious folks (Etruscans) built this city on top of a hill. Hill towns are a common theme in my travels around Italy, but Civita is special because you can only get there by walking a long bridge that takes you to the entrance that was dug into the rock before Jesus was born, though now it’s called Porta San Maria.The town’s seven residents are hanging on by a cliff (literally). Civita di Bagnoregio has been called ‘the dying city’ in Italy because of its propensity to lose pieces of itself to landslides.But erosion aside, Civita is experiencing a bit of a boom (probably due to Instagram), so while she is still standing in the clouds, you should consider the climb up to see her.I popped over for an early morning visit (first car in the parking lot!) after dropping my friends at the train station in Viterbo.I was just beginning the solo portion of my travels, so I was somewhere between missing my friends and talking myself into being excited to hit the road for a new adventure. (Solo travel requires that I do a lot of self-talk.)I enjoyed scooting through vineyards and olive trees in my little rented Fiat.

I was on my way to Orvieto, yet other Italian hilltown (there’s a bunch of them) and Civita di Bagnoregio was on the way.I liked making the long walk into the city, watching it come into view around a corner and climbing up the bridge.The town was quiet, just beginning to wake up for tourists: big square umbrellas being opened at tables, shutters banging open and waiters on scooters making the drive across the bridge.I followed every little crooked lane to peek out over the edges of the city walls into the valley below. I think I read that the geological formations surrounding the city are called the ‘Badlands.’ The chalky, smaller cliffs look like they’ve been made of sand and dust, like they could be knocked down in a light wind. It’s all strangely beautiful.At the far edge of the city, steps and a trail lead down one side of the cliff to a place that’s been dug out of the city (this can’t help with the erosion problem). It was a tomb back in Etruscan days, but has also served as a stable for farm animals and is now a little chapel.

As an American, everywhere you go in Europe is like ‘going back in time,’ so I hesitate to use that phrase but I saw things in Civita di Bagnoregio like a stone olive press and a wood-burning bread oven.In fact, on my way out, I saw a truck the size of a scooter bringing wood into the city, presumably for the oven. The next time I go, maybe I’ll arrive later in the day to taste the bread and oil on offer.

Before walking back to my car, I sat for a while on the wide, stone steps in the main square to rest, grateful for a gorgeous start to a new day.

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After enjoying the view of Lago di Bolsena (Lake Bolsena) from our hilltop town of Montefiascone, we decided to take a day to get closer to the water.

We could not have had a more gorgeous day, so we took our time driving all the way around the lake, stopping here and there.

We walked a bit along the water, enjoying the views and noticing wildflowers.

Then we found a gorgeous restaurant for lunch that served fish fresh from the lake, al fresco of course.

Followed by dessert. I had tiramisu which was divine.

After sitting a long time outside, we continued our drive up to the town of Bolsena, an ancient Etruscan fortress.

We parked the car and spent a couple hours wandering the town,

Climbing to the top of the walled city…

And enjoying views from the north side of Lake Bolsena (Lago di Bolsena).

But as gorgeous as the sky and sea were, our favorite corners of the town were found by following smaller lanes to dead ends or tiny shops.

We spent a good amount of time admiring pottery in Bolsena.

And perfectly situated pots of flowers.

Of which there are many.

There’s something about Europe in general, and Italy specifically, that keeps me filling up camera space with doorways and entrances.

We bought a basket of strawberries to share before heading back to Montefiascone.

We were all delighted with our slow day of meandering around Lake Bolsena. We rested for a bit before walking back into Montefiascone for our last dinner together.

What a special treat it has been to be with dear friends in Italy! I’m super grateful to Nicola and Sandra for making the journey from Aberdeen!

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Snapshots of Montefiascone

a hilltop town in Italy overlooking Lago de Bolsena (Lake Bolsena).

Here are a few highlights from my first days in Italy:

Squeals of delight upon seeing dear friends.

A room in a hilltop monastery with a view of the valley below.

Wisteria-lined roads.

The ancient town fortress of Montefiascone.

Following cobblestone lanes to a church with a dome.

Sitting under the dome.

Walking and chatting.

Stopping for coffee and chats.

Stopping in parks and chatting on benches.

Wandering and wandering through the old town, criss-crossing squares and looking in shops.

Blue doors.

Finding ever more lovely views and brightly colored corners as we lingered on in town.

A restaurant (with a view) where a kind waiter let us in an hour before they opened for dinner to come in out of the rain for a drink – and then served us a four course meal + wine and coffee for 15 euro each AND sang karaoke!

Walking back to the monastery as the sun was setting over the lake, with full bellies and hearts. And lots of laughs.

Being in a beautiful place with my dear friends.

Montefiascone has been an exquisite backdrop for hours and hours of walking and talking, stopping for coffee, stopping for a meal and of course, stopping for gelato.

A few details for if you go. We stayed at the monastery in town, but if I went back I would probably book an airbnb. For meals, we were treated like queens and enjoyed the pizza from a restaurant down the street from the monastery, but our favorite dinner was in Mamma Pappa. Also check out these nearby places: Lake Bolsena and a hilltop city you can only reach on foot!

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The face I’m making in this picture could be summed up like this:

OH MY GOSH I’M IN ROME AND THERE ARE A MILLION PEOPLE EVERYWHERE AND I WANT TO GO BACK TO TUSCANY BUT ACTUALLY IT’S REALLY BEAUTIFUL HERE BUT I’M EXPERIENCING SENSORY OVERLOAD SO…GELATO IS THE ANSWER FOR EVERYTHING!

I am not exaggerating when I say that my sister and I had gelato a MINIMUM of three times a day while in Rome.

And one day we had it four times.

Because it was a really hard day and we needed extra.

I know it sounds crazy to say it was a “really hard day” while on a trip to Italy, but this, my friends, is the reality of travel sometimes.

Sometimes (all the time?), the Instagrams don’t tell the whole story.

Travel is messy. Plans have to change constantly.

Rain pours down in buckets while you are walking to the Vatican.

Strollers run over your toes on your way into the Sistine Chapel.

Throngs of people press in with you to see Michaelangelo’s Pieta in St Peter’s Cathedral.

The pizza you grab on the way to your next tour is not the pizza you had dreamed of when you imagined yourself in Rome.

But, maybe the beauty of travel (and of life) is found in the surprising notion that the messy places is where the magic happens.

I was perhaps staring at this sarcophagus (with eleventy million other visitors) when I first began to feel that coming to Rome was not the best plan ever.

Fast forward four hours, a rainstorm, two bad meals, one thousand aggressive street vendors, an encounter with a crazy man that I can only tell you about if you buy me a strong drink and you have me on a bed crying:

I’m DONE with Rome.

Which was fine. Except for the fact that I still had four more days in the city. Crazy me. I had thought…if I’m going to Rome, I want time to explore!

So I began to spin.

Out loud to my sister, I started saying helpful things like:

Ugh, I should never have booked that tour through the Vatican. It made the day too stressful. And now we have a tour tomorrow too. It’s too much!

Why did I think I needed four nights and five days in Rome?

I already know I love smaller towns over big cities! What’s wrong with me? I am so stupid!

I never plan anything well.

Ok, well at least I’m staying right by the train station. After you leave, I can just take day trips to places outside of Rome for the rest of my trip. I don’t have to spend any more time in this crazy city.

Over the last year, Anna has been meeting with other people who spend their lives leading other people. (I’ve mentioned it before, but my sister is a superwoman business owner and she manages to run her restaurant, be a wife and mama, exercise and look gorgeous all at the same time.) One of the products of Anna’s time in this leadership group is that she manages stressful situations by stopping and asking lots of questions.

One of the questions Anna loves to ask is: Is that really true?

Is it really true that you don’t plan well?

Is it really true that we should have stayed in Tuscany?

Is it really true that you’re done with Rome?

Honestly, it can be kind of annoying.

But also helpful.

So instead of going to bed on our first night in Rome wishing we had never left the glorious sunshine and vineyards of Tuscany, we processed our disappointment with Anna’s guru-type questions and resolved to leave our flat again the next day with open hearts towards Rome.

The skies were blue the next morning as we walked to the meeting point for our tour.

The streets were almost empty compared to when we were walking them the day before, and I remembered how much I love to wander around a city in the morning, when everyone else is asleep.

We meandered along the Forum and wondered at places so ancient.

We walked by this wedding cake building fascinated by its “newness,” though it is older than most buildings in America. (We later learned that this is the building that modern-day Romans love to hate, The Vittoriano Complex.)

Around 9:30 we reached the Teatro di Marcello, which is where our tour would begin. We sat down and grabbed a coffee and pastries and sat in the sun while we waited to meet our guide.

Already day 2 in Rome was outshining day 1.

The tour we had booked is called Rome: Hidden Gems and Ancient Wonders with Walks of Italy. We were going off the beaten path to see lesser known sites in and around Rome. The max size of the tour was 15 people, and we were even going to do a bit of touring via bus.

Like I said, we started out in front of the Marcello Theater, a 3000 year old open air theater, which now houses three luxury apartments on the top floor.

We were right on the edge of the Jewish Ghetto, and we were not steps inside of it before our guide began to point out the now familiar solperstine.

Solperstine are stumbling stones placed in front of houses where Jewish people (and other victims of the Nazi regime) last lived. If you stumble upon them, you can stop and read a piece of the tragic story of someone’s life: their name, when they were born, when they were deported and what became of them.

Our guide, who was super lovely, told us the history of the Jewish Ghetto, where all Jews were made to live in Rome and how during WWII the German government told them if they came up with a huge amount of money (I think it was 50kg of gold), they would be allowed to remain in Rome.

The community paid the money.

And of course the Nazis did not keep their word. 2000 Jews were rounded up and deported (many to Auschwitz). Our guide pointed out a small placard on a building noting the date of the deportations.

Later I walked by what is perhaps the largest collection of solperstine I’ve ever seen together.

These days the Jewish Ghetto in Rome has been restored to be one of the most beautiful neighborhoods in the city.

And for perhaps the first time in Rome’s long history, Jewish Culture is celebrated. The Synogogue’s square top stands out among Rome’s many dome-topped cathedrals.

As we left the Jewish Ghetto, we headed for the Tiber River, which used to flood the ghetto before the embankments were built to hold the river in place. We walked across Rome’s oldest bridge to Tiber Island. (The Pons Fabricius or Ponte dei Quattro Capi)

62 BC y’all. That’s dang old.

After we crossed over Tiber Island, our fancy bus picked us up and whipped us out to an even older road.

The road that led to the city from the sea, the Appian Way. This road was built in 312 B.C. and you can walk it or bike it but you are NOT supposed to drive on it. I WISH you could have seen our guide taking the driver of a wayward vehicle to task for trying to drive across these ancient stones! She also pointed out the well worn ridge marks from chariots.

Many hecka old places along the Appian Way!

Our reward for walking along the Appian Way was a stop at this LOVELY cafe.

I believe it was while I was sitting in this outdoor cafe that I began to think that maybe I was not so done with Rome.

Yes please, espesso and canolli! All tours should build in such lovely stops.

While we drank our coffee, we took turns looking at this super fun book with layered pages where you can see what things in Rome look like today and how they used to look. We also had a chance to ask questions and hear a little bit more about Rome.

Refreshed from our stop, we were whisked away next to see the ancient viaducts.

These fun umbrella trees (imported from Africa, I believe) are all over Rome. I loved these trees. Also near the viaduct was a golf course and a running/walking trail.

It’s super amazing to me that if you live in Rome, you go walking or running or golfing along structures that are so old.

Ancient Romans were super clever y’all. Clean water coming into the city was key to the health and  success of the Romans. One of the ancient viaducts still dumps into the city at the Trevi Fountain. I had been to the fountain before but had not realized it was built to celebrate this long-running source of water.

After the viaduct tour, we rode our bus to a spot where we had a gorgeous view of the city.

This was the end of our tour of lesser known sites of Rome with Walks of Italy. Anna and I both said all day long how much we preferred it over touring the Vatican, but interestingly, I noticed during the rest of my time in Rome how things I had learned at the Vatican kept coming back to me.

For example, we learned that the exquisite tiled floors in the Vatican were actually ancient Roman floors that had been moved to the Vatican museum during the Renaissance. So later, I was in a coffee shop and I saw a floor similar to one I had stood on in the Vatican Museum and I realized I was standing on an Ancient Roman floor, even though it was just a simple coffee shop.

Floors like these lined the Forum at one time, but the popes took all the more valuable colored stones and marble from the Forum and re-used them in Vatican City to make it the rather grand place it is today.

So before I was through with Rome, I was grateful that I had toured the Vatican. I just didn’t enjoy it in the midst of it like I thought I would.

However, Anna and I both loved our second tour of Rome most of all, and BONUS: our guide gave us all some lunch recommendations near where our bus dropped us in the city.

Anna and I enjoyed maybe our best meal in Rome at the little tucked away restaurant she recommended, Il Bacaro.

After lunch, Rome had definitely heated up and grown super crowded again, but it was Anna’s last day, so we pushed through to the Trevi Fountain, the Pantheon and the Colosseum.

We saw all of these from the outside while shooing away street vendors. And in between walking to each of them, we made more stops for gelato.

For dinner we headed to the darling Memento Mori neighborhood and had pizza and again, gelato.

Both were divine. We loved the super original flavors at Fatamorgana.

This turned out to be probably my favorite gelato stop in Rome, and the only one I repeat visited.

The next morning it was time to say Goodbye to Anna. (Sad face.)

Since I was spending day 3 by myself, I researched quiet spots in Rome and made a map and a walking tour of places I could go and not be harassed by street vendors. I got a super early start since I walked with Anna to the train station before her flight. I had a quiet breakfast and coffee, before walking to Campo di Fiori, a sweet square full of market stalls.

I wandered around watching folks get set up for the day, looking at flowers, fruit, pasta and all kinds of other colorful displays.

From the Campo di Fiori, I went to Palazzo Spada, where I had several rooms full of art entirely to myself. Inside the Palazzo is also Borromini’s forced perspective gallery. The hall is built to appear much larger than it is. The statue at the back is actually only three feet tall. I read that artists love to come and draw the gallery, but on the morning I visited, I sat in front of it sketching all alone, delighted to discover that quiet spots in Rome do exist.

Next I headed back to the Tiber River we had crossed the day before and walked the long length of one side, crossed over a bridge and came back up the other side. Both sides are lined with great walking paths.

There is a piece of an older bridge in the water that is cut off from both sides, a monument to how even the most grand structures built by man eventually crumble and fall. You can not walk around Rome without being struck by how empires fall. Especially when you see pictures of what these places used to look like, you begin to see that much of Rome’s glory is in the past.

After the river, I walked over to Circus Maximus, another ancient site now used as a jogging track and a sometimes fairground.

Above Circus Maxiumus is a darling rose garden with benches scattered throughout and water fountains. A refreshing pause on my walking tour.

And above the rose garden is the Garden of Orange Trees. This was maybe my favorite of the quiet spots in Rome I found. Il Giardino degli Aranci  had wonderful views of the city and shady spots to sit and write. I spent a couple of hours here, sitting and writing in my journal.

I then wandered back down into the crowded parts of the city and all the way back to the flat. I stopped and bought some ingredients at a grocery store to make a salad, which I enjoyed while looking out my window and listening to the street noise below.

The next day I met up with a friend of mine from Tübingen who had been traveling around Italy. We also hit the streets of Rome early to stop at a couple of places she hadn’t seen.

First, the Pantheon. Which was completely empty at 8am. Yes please.

And then the Trevi Fountain, also empty in morning compared to the usual masses of folks trying to toss in their coins. The legend is that if you toss a coin over your shoulder into the Trevi Fountain, you are sure to return to Rome.

In the above photo, I am tossing in my coin not just because I want to come back to Rome but because I’m so delighted to be there without a crowd!

Then we went back to Campo di Fiori and sat and had coffee and breakfast for about two hours.

We had both been traveling and were happy to sit in the square, talking and watching people.

My friend had been on a tour of a vineyard with Walks of Italy where the vineyard owner plays music to all of his vines. He has speakers set up all over the vineyard and music is playing 24 hours a day. The day before she had been there, the Obamas had been to visit. So apparently, this is a very special vineyard! She convinced me to add it to a future trip for sure. So fascinating.

After our extended breakfast, we wandered around the square. The flower booth had some helpers at the flower cutting station.

We wandered a few more places around Rome including the National Museum where students were outside sketching the many statues. Because we had seen all we really wanted to see, we were happy to just keep stopping for coffees and meals. She had a recommendation for a restaurant where we had a late lunch of carbonara.

All in all our day was pretty relaxed and I finally felt as though I had my bearings around Rome.

I still got us lost several times, but I had a vague sense of which direction to head to get where we wanted to go.

The next morning we did a bit more wandering, visited two coffee shops (sitting outside for coffee is my favorite activity in any town) and headed off to catch our flight back to Tübingen. As we walked to the train station where I had been a bit despondent on my first night in the city, I felt super grateful that I had made friends with Rome. It wasn’t love at first sight, but over all I felt a fondness for the city that I had not expected. I think that Rome, like many cities, would probably be a much more delightful place to live than to visit. But of course the fact that I always find myself googling for the less-crowded places and parks makes me aware that I should probably keep walking in the countryside over taking up residence in the city.

A few details for if you go to Rome Italy:

My sister and I, and my friend, collectively took three tours with Walks of Italy, while staying in Rome. We so enjoyed our tour with Walks of Italy in Venice that I was eager to do some more, and they kindly comped our second tour (Hidden Gems and Ancient Wonders of Rome) – Thank you, Walks of Italy! Like I said, we also toured the Vatican with Walks of Italy, but we were limited in our choice of times because my sister only had two days in Rome, one of which was a Sunday and the Vatican is closed on Sunday. Were I to ever tour the Vatican again, I would absolutely do the early morning tour (Pristine Sistine) as opposed to the afternoon tour. And in general I find that morning tours are so much better than afternoon tours. The guides are fresh and sites are less crowded. But the Vatican Museums are impressive, and even though it was crowded, I am grateful to have seen it, especially the hall of maps. For a dreamy traveler like me, the bright blue and gold hall was my favorite part of the whole Vatican Museum.

While in Rome we stayed with the Beehive Hostel, in one of their off-site apartments. Were I booking again, I would try to book inside the hostel instead of in the apartment which is about 10-15 minutes away from the hostel. We found it to be fairly reasonably priced and enjoyed being so near the train station. They also let us leave our luggage there before/after check-in/check-out time.

Questions or thoughts about Rome? Feel free to leave a comment or read other posts about Italy.

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