Assisi - a medieval town with sportscars
The journey continues...
This entry is a little wordier, and somewhat more personal, the previous travel posts. But there are also pretty pictures.
It was with a pretty heavy heart that I left Rome. It was also my first experience with train travel. Not being able to decipher the Italian on my ticket, I found myself on a train heading for Torino. Fortunately the error was discovered before the train left, but then I had to figure out where the hell the train to Assisi was. I raced up to the Trenitalia area (where tickets were issued), waited in line and finally got someone who spoke a bit of English who was unable to tell me what track to go to.
::blush:: I was pretty much a train travel virgin.
The key, apparently, is to know what the end-of-the-line destination is. The helpful ticket agent explained that to go to Assisi, I had to find the train going to Perugia. Back in the departure area I found the huge chart that listed all the stops along the way...and then I kept an eye on the huge board that listed all the trains and departures. When I saw the one for Perugia - leaving in 15 minutes - I bolted to the OTHER END of the station. I don't think I'd have made it if I had been dragging suitcases - 3 cheers for backpacks! I barely got settled on board when the doors closed.
A couple of folks arrived just as the doors closed, but once the doors shut, they aren't opening again until the next stop.
So. I get to Assisi a couple of hours later. Well, not Assisi, actually. It's Santa Maria d'Angeli, which is at the foot of the hill, a couple of miles away. Adriana, my travel agent, had arranged from someone to pick me up - gratis - as a favor to her. I'm met by a charming young man and whisked away. His English is only marginally better than my Italian, so conversation is a wee bit...stilted. Anyway, up the hill we drive, up and up and up and then down again before turning onto a gravel track. There is nothing around. It's a lovely location, but...where the hell am I?
The hotel - pensione/b&b actually - is a former residence for priests. The building is about 200 or 300 years old. The room was lovely with marvellous view. However, I'm not in the town. Where exactly is the town?
After settling in, and working out that supper will be served at 7:30pm, I decided to take a quick orientation walk. It doesn't take me long to realize I don't want to be out after dark...no street lights. Eventually I come to a main street - up the hill. And looking even further up the hillside I see it. Assisi.
But how to get there...
I make an arbitrary decision. Left. Why? Because I'm left-handed. And because this would allow me to walk in comparative safety, facing traffic. After a few minutes (after being careful to note what dirt road I'd just come from) I found a little shack that said tourist info. I wandered over and asked if there was a map. She handed me one, I opened it and looked at it and had not clue one where I was. I asked her to point out where we were on the map. She pointed. I looked. I looked around then looked at the map.
Crap. Not even close to scale.
I smiled, thanked her, and headed back to the hotel to regroup. The view going down the hill was lovely...acres and acres of farmland...a church in the distance. Lovely. I almost walked by the turn-off for the hotel.
I took a nap then went down for supper. And that's when I fell apart.
No one really spoke English. I didn't speak Italian. And I felt so very very alone. I took refuge in my journal, pouring it all out. And had a lovely cry at bedtime.
Come the morning, I headed out, map in hand, in search of Assisi. Following the path I'd taken the previous day, I walked further and as I rounded the curve, I found what I wanted:
The Basilica of St. Francis was perched above me. All I had to do was figure out how to get there.
I stumbled across a footpath leading in the general direction uphill. As I walked, I was passed by a jogger, who suddenly disappeared from view. Hmm...when I got to where he'd vanished, I discovered a hidden set of steps. Okay. Up it is. When I got to the top, there was another road, and the jogger. He smiled and started to chat, but I told me 'non parle italiano'. He shrugged, but then I think I looked pretty confused, because he pointed to my left and said "centro". That I understood - he was directing me to the centre of town. "Grazie" I said and ambled off...trying to memorize landmarks.
Can I just say it was love at first sight. The town, I mean. Although the jogger was kinda cute...and shirtless...
Wandering the streets, following the signs, I came to the Basilica of St. Francis.
This is the entrance to the Lower Basilica (there is an upper one as well).
Photography was kind of frowned on inside, so I opted to buy postcards instead.
The interior of the Basilica. Many of these frescoes were damaged by an earthquake in the late '90s. The restoration work was only completed within the last year.
This is the tomb of St. Francis. A very special place for me.
I should mention that St. Francis is the reason I came to Assisi. I have a devotion to this particular saint. I love him because he's the patron saint of animals, nature, ecology. But also because of the simplicity of his life. The story goes like this:
Born somewhere around 1181, he was the carefree son of a well-to-do family. He lived a life of eat, drink and be merry. He also did a stint of military service, but he had the feeling that there was something more he was to do with his life. One day, at the run-down church of San Damiano, just outside Assisi, Francis heard Jesus speak to him from the cross. He was told to "help repair my church which is in ruins". He interpreted this to mean rebuild the run-down church he was in, and set out to do just that - giving what he had, selling his horse, and some of his father's goods (bolts of cloth).
Pop was less than impressed. And when Francis renounced his life of privilege, Pop tried to help him see sense by way of threats and beatings. Francis stood firm and began a life of poverty, trusting in God to provide for his needs, burying himself in good works of mercy, and preached on purity and peace. He saw all of nature as a reflection of the divine.
He wrote Canticle of Brother Sun.
In an email I sent while away, I alluded to Assisi providing me with an unexpectedly spiritual moment. It happened at the other end of the town, at the Church of St Clare. St. Clare was a follower of Francis; she is often viewed or described as the feminine aspect of the ideals which he preached.
I just wasn't prepared for what I found here. I went in, and the guy doing crowd control was directing the flow into a small side chapel. I went in, turned the corner and...was stunned. There in front of me was the Cross of San Damiano. The cross from which, legend says, Jesus spoke to Francis.
I was originally going to try to find San Damiano to see the cross, but the map was so confusing, then I read that it was a reproduction in that church so...
OMG Here was that cross. I couldn't help it, I sat on one of the benches and just stared. And then knelt to pray. The most asked question when I talk about this portion of the trip is "So, did you hear God talking to you?"
Yes, actually. Not with words, but with peace. My thoughts stilled, my heart was content...after having fallen apart the night before, this was a most welcome and unexpected gift.
I wanted to take a picture, but somehow it didn't feel right. So I simply moved on to the rest of the church when I was ready.
The view from the plaza outside the church.
The town square really is the heart of things. There is a fountain, the city hall (which was under scaffolding), it is where festivals take place, and it is the home of a pagan temple:
. And, as was common, the temple became a Christian church. In this case, Santa Maria sopra Minerva. The interior is stunningly lavish.
I read somewhere that one could visit the old temple, below ground, I think. However, when I stopped in there was a school group - a very large school group, so I didn't stay long. Maybe next trip...
Outside the temple/church, preparations were underway for a springtime ritual, a festival that dates back to Roman times. There were bleachers set up and I could hear drums from somewhere and decorations where being put up. I'm a little hazy on the details.
The town itself is fairly easy to navigate. You are either going up or you are going down. The streets wind and wind around the hill top. However, for pedestrians there are shortcuts:
I seem to have a fascination with passages and doorways...
~~~ ~ ~~~
That night, in bed, I had another new and amazing experience - I felt the earth move.
Out of the gutter people! I'm talking about an earthquake. Well, a tremor, really. But it was enough to wake me from a sound sleep. There were two a few minutes apart. After the first one I listened carefully, but did not hear any sounds of panic, the same after the second one. So I just rolled over and went back to sleep.
So that was my trip to Assisi...a little bit spiritual, a little bit, um, earthy. LOL
Next stop, Florence.
Rome, part 1
Rome, part 2
Pompeii
Rome, part3 + Vatican
As always, comments and questions welcome.
This entry is a little wordier, and somewhat more personal, the previous travel posts. But there are also pretty pictures.
It was with a pretty heavy heart that I left Rome. It was also my first experience with train travel. Not being able to decipher the Italian on my ticket, I found myself on a train heading for Torino. Fortunately the error was discovered before the train left, but then I had to figure out where the hell the train to Assisi was. I raced up to the Trenitalia area (where tickets were issued), waited in line and finally got someone who spoke a bit of English who was unable to tell me what track to go to.
::blush:: I was pretty much a train travel virgin.
The key, apparently, is to know what the end-of-the-line destination is. The helpful ticket agent explained that to go to Assisi, I had to find the train going to Perugia. Back in the departure area I found the huge chart that listed all the stops along the way...and then I kept an eye on the huge board that listed all the trains and departures. When I saw the one for Perugia - leaving in 15 minutes - I bolted to the OTHER END of the station. I don't think I'd have made it if I had been dragging suitcases - 3 cheers for backpacks! I barely got settled on board when the doors closed.
A couple of folks arrived just as the doors closed, but once the doors shut, they aren't opening again until the next stop.
So. I get to Assisi a couple of hours later. Well, not Assisi, actually. It's Santa Maria d'Angeli, which is at the foot of the hill, a couple of miles away. Adriana, my travel agent, had arranged from someone to pick me up - gratis - as a favor to her. I'm met by a charming young man and whisked away. His English is only marginally better than my Italian, so conversation is a wee bit...stilted. Anyway, up the hill we drive, up and up and up and then down again before turning onto a gravel track. There is nothing around. It's a lovely location, but...where the hell am I?
The hotel - pensione/b&b actually - is a former residence for priests. The building is about 200 or 300 years old. The room was lovely with marvellous view. However, I'm not in the town. Where exactly is the town?
After settling in, and working out that supper will be served at 7:30pm, I decided to take a quick orientation walk. It doesn't take me long to realize I don't want to be out after dark...no street lights. Eventually I come to a main street - up the hill. And looking even further up the hillside I see it. Assisi.
But how to get there...
I make an arbitrary decision. Left. Why? Because I'm left-handed. And because this would allow me to walk in comparative safety, facing traffic. After a few minutes (after being careful to note what dirt road I'd just come from) I found a little shack that said tourist info. I wandered over and asked if there was a map. She handed me one, I opened it and looked at it and had not clue one where I was. I asked her to point out where we were on the map. She pointed. I looked. I looked around then looked at the map.
Crap. Not even close to scale.
I smiled, thanked her, and headed back to the hotel to regroup. The view going down the hill was lovely...acres and acres of farmland...a church in the distance. Lovely. I almost walked by the turn-off for the hotel.
I took a nap then went down for supper. And that's when I fell apart.
No one really spoke English. I didn't speak Italian. And I felt so very very alone. I took refuge in my journal, pouring it all out. And had a lovely cry at bedtime.
Come the morning, I headed out, map in hand, in search of Assisi. Following the path I'd taken the previous day, I walked further and as I rounded the curve, I found what I wanted:
The Basilica of St. Francis was perched above me. All I had to do was figure out how to get there.
I stumbled across a footpath leading in the general direction uphill. As I walked, I was passed by a jogger, who suddenly disappeared from view. Hmm...when I got to where he'd vanished, I discovered a hidden set of steps. Okay. Up it is. When I got to the top, there was another road, and the jogger. He smiled and started to chat, but I told me 'non parle italiano'. He shrugged, but then I think I looked pretty confused, because he pointed to my left and said "centro". That I understood - he was directing me to the centre of town. "Grazie" I said and ambled off...trying to memorize landmarks.
Can I just say it was love at first sight. The town, I mean. Although the jogger was kinda cute...and shirtless...
Wandering the streets, following the signs, I came to the Basilica of St. Francis.
This is the entrance to the Lower Basilica (there is an upper one as well).
Photography was kind of frowned on inside, so I opted to buy postcards instead.
The interior of the Basilica. Many of these frescoes were damaged by an earthquake in the late '90s. The restoration work was only completed within the last year.
This is the tomb of St. Francis. A very special place for me.
I should mention that St. Francis is the reason I came to Assisi. I have a devotion to this particular saint. I love him because he's the patron saint of animals, nature, ecology. But also because of the simplicity of his life. The story goes like this:
Born somewhere around 1181, he was the carefree son of a well-to-do family. He lived a life of eat, drink and be merry. He also did a stint of military service, but he had the feeling that there was something more he was to do with his life. One day, at the run-down church of San Damiano, just outside Assisi, Francis heard Jesus speak to him from the cross. He was told to "help repair my church which is in ruins". He interpreted this to mean rebuild the run-down church he was in, and set out to do just that - giving what he had, selling his horse, and some of his father's goods (bolts of cloth).
Pop was less than impressed. And when Francis renounced his life of privilege, Pop tried to help him see sense by way of threats and beatings. Francis stood firm and began a life of poverty, trusting in God to provide for his needs, burying himself in good works of mercy, and preached on purity and peace. He saw all of nature as a reflection of the divine.
He wrote Canticle of Brother Sun.
In an email I sent while away, I alluded to Assisi providing me with an unexpectedly spiritual moment. It happened at the other end of the town, at the Church of St Clare. St. Clare was a follower of Francis; she is often viewed or described as the feminine aspect of the ideals which he preached.
I just wasn't prepared for what I found here. I went in, and the guy doing crowd control was directing the flow into a small side chapel. I went in, turned the corner and...was stunned. There in front of me was the Cross of San Damiano. The cross from which, legend says, Jesus spoke to Francis.
I was originally going to try to find San Damiano to see the cross, but the map was so confusing, then I read that it was a reproduction in that church so...
OMG Here was that cross. I couldn't help it, I sat on one of the benches and just stared. And then knelt to pray. The most asked question when I talk about this portion of the trip is "So, did you hear God talking to you?"
Yes, actually. Not with words, but with peace. My thoughts stilled, my heart was content...after having fallen apart the night before, this was a most welcome and unexpected gift.
I wanted to take a picture, but somehow it didn't feel right. So I simply moved on to the rest of the church when I was ready.
The view from the plaza outside the church.
The town square really is the heart of things. There is a fountain, the city hall (which was under scaffolding), it is where festivals take place, and it is the home of a pagan temple:
. And, as was common, the temple became a Christian church. In this case, Santa Maria sopra Minerva. The interior is stunningly lavish.
I read somewhere that one could visit the old temple, below ground, I think. However, when I stopped in there was a school group - a very large school group, so I didn't stay long. Maybe next trip...
Outside the temple/church, preparations were underway for a springtime ritual, a festival that dates back to Roman times. There were bleachers set up and I could hear drums from somewhere and decorations where being put up. I'm a little hazy on the details.
The town itself is fairly easy to navigate. You are either going up or you are going down. The streets wind and wind around the hill top. However, for pedestrians there are shortcuts:
I seem to have a fascination with passages and doorways...
~~~ ~ ~~~
That night, in bed, I had another new and amazing experience - I felt the earth move.
Out of the gutter people! I'm talking about an earthquake. Well, a tremor, really. But it was enough to wake me from a sound sleep. There were two a few minutes apart. After the first one I listened carefully, but did not hear any sounds of panic, the same after the second one. So I just rolled over and went back to sleep.
So that was my trip to Assisi...a little bit spiritual, a little bit, um, earthy. LOL
Next stop, Florence.
Rome, part 1
Rome, part 2
Pompeii
Rome, part3 + Vatican
As always, comments and questions welcome.