Perugia
I still can't quite fathom how it happened, but there's a medieval city buried underground. It's fantastic. Apparently, the Pope built a Rocca, a fort, right on top of a town. He razed hundreds of buildings for material for his fort, and the streets are covered over with vaulted ceilings. The Rocca is mostly gone, but the town beneath it remains, and is part of the escalator system the town employs to easily navigate the steep hills. Up the escalator near our hotel and hey presto there we were, in this astounding cavern of streets and brickwork folks now just don't produce.
I could have spent a whole day wandering around there.
There's something about these medieval hill towns that I love. Nothing's square. Nothing makes any linear sense. Each street's turning grants a unique view of something everyday and magnificent. The everyday is beautiful, and fulfilling, and all we really need.
Our first night in Perugia we were tired, as we'd slept four hours on the plane but no naps or anything on the ground. Best way to beat jet lag, but rough on the ground.
We wandered the main street of Perugia, getting used to the cobblestones, or not, in my case. We'd kept missing meals, a breakfast on the plane that I couldn't eat, then rushing to catch the train from airport to the main station in Rome, and Delicious bought just himself a sandwich that he couldn't eat. Don't know why he didn't get me something to eat, as well... Checked into the hotel and no time for food anywhere. We were starving, but eating early just isn't 'done'. We looked at all the restaurants on the street, and finally sat at a little place with tables in the middle of the road where other folks were eating what looked to be fairly substantial 'snacks'. Pizza and a salad and bruschetta and a little white wine. Wandered some more, and made it to bed without falling over ourselves.
I love Italian. The language is so much warmer than French, and frankly, after marrying into a French family, the whole country can go hang itself. I would live in Perugia. The apricots alone are worth moving to Italy.