Pace e bene

So Brian says to me, “I thought you were going to take the kids on day trips while we were here?”

And I was. I am. But things have been busy with vacationing and all. And doing the laundry, dishes and just life in general. So after we did our trial runs to Roccosinibalda and Monteleone Sabino (both medieval cliff/mountain villages), I felt that I was able to handle the kids and the car on a trip to Assisi. Because it didn’t LOOK too far away on the map.

To get to Assisi from Rieti, you need to go through the town of Terni. Getting to Terni involves nerves of steel and complete concentration to handle the windy, two lane mountain road with occasional cliff like drop offs to the side of you. It especially helps if your daughter isn’t screaming at the top of her lungs when a spider happens to crawl up her leg during the precarious ride.

The projected 1 ½ hour car ride took 2 ½ hours to get there. That projection was given by the car GPS (aka Global Piece of S**t) One thing (out of many) that the Italians have gotten right is the signage in this country. It’s nearly impossible to get lost. Direction signs appear at almost every intersection and if you know where you want to go, it’s easy to find your way. They even label the streets (on the ground) with direction arrows and town names so you know which lane to be in and which way to turn. With cursory looks at the map, we were able to find our way to Assisi with minimal difficulty – difficulty caused mostly by using the GPS, which we quickly abandoned.

Assisi is another rock medieval town (our 3rd or 4th since we’ve been here only on a bigger, more touristy scale). We were able to eat our picnic lunch and meander through the town stopping at a few sights. We found the Basilica Santa Chiara (St. Clare) first. Appropriate for the family from Santa Clarita! We (mostly the kids) struggled with the necessary volume control needed in the sacred place full of touristy pilgrims. We were able to see the remains of St. Clare covered in lifelike wax (“eew!” says Julia, “cool!” says Aidan) in the crypt below the church. Outside the basilica in the courtyard there is a stunning view of the Umbrian landscape. In the distance we saw the blue dome of the church St. Mary of the Angels - the place St. Francis lived and worked and the “cradle of the Franciscan order.” The city of Los Angeles is named after this church.

More meandering down the streets and a little bit of shopping for crosses. I had promised a friend from church that I would pick up a cross for her from Italy. I figured Assisi was as holy a place as any in Italy to do so. Given that St. Francis is one of Italy’s patron saints (but curiously, he not the patron saint of Assisi. That honor goes to San Rufino. Yeah, that’s a head scratcher to me too.) We coincidentally picked a shop to get crosses at the same place Rick Steves points out in his book contains a printing press from WWII used to make documents for escaping Jews. I missed the press, but Aidan saw it and the sign (in Italian) describing what it was used for. I spent my time looking for crosses and conversing in Italian with the 70 year old signora behind the counter. She described to me (all in Italian) why the crosses looked different: they are in the shape of the Hebrew letter Tau, the last letter in the Hebrew alphabet during St. Francis’ life. He would use this letter as his signature. Now it’s used as a cross to remind us of St. Francis and his message of peace. The crosses in their store are made out of olive wood from the local surrounding olive trees. We also talked about the kids and why we were living in Rieti for the summer. It was a lovely conversation ending with her asking how old I am. She guessed 30. God bless her.

More shopping for Ed when we stopped so he could spend his own money to buy a small pinocchio toy wooden puppet. The man asked his name and we answered for Edwin (his lip still being very swollen and making it hard to understand him) but shortened it to “Eddie” as the Italians have a VERY difficult time understanding the name “Edwin.” “Oh, Eddie!” the man says. “Like Ed, Edd and Eddy. The cartoon! My kids love that show!” So Edwin is now Eddie to all Italians, since that can say that. And they all know the name Julia. Only they know it as Giulia.

We stopped by the Temple of Minerva (later turned into a church) in the main square. We went in and took pictures in the only church where cameras are allowed (we think.) Since it used to be a Roman temple, there are still floor slats near the alter that used to drain the blood from the temple sacrifices. Another highlight for Aidan…

Then we made our way down to the Basilica of St. Francis. A few hundred yards away, with the basilica in view, we came upon a shop with a sign in the window which read In ENGLISH:
Please Come In And Taste Now the Best Olive Oil and Balsamic Vinegar.
Later You Will Not Feel Like Walking Up Again. Don’t Miss This Chance.

How can you refuse such a sign? We went in and met a lovely Italian gentleman who lived in Chicago for 27 years and has been back in Italy for almost 20 now. Of course we tasted his olive oil and balsamic vinegar (which made Ed pucker, which made the man smile) and then we purchased some. But better than the oil and vinegar, we got a great conversation and connection with some real Italia through him. He explained that he used to teach Italian – and was in great demand as he is from Umbria and, of course, the Umbrian dialect is the best in Italy. Nothing like Roma (“ugh” he grimaces) Italian. He claims that Roma Italian has too much slang and they slur too many of their letters together.  We also talked about our experience here in Italy – the no hot water experience… and he shared that when he was a kid (for many years) his mother would bathe him a big “flower pot.”

Then the walk down to the basilica and a quick tour of the reason people come to Assisi.

After some bribes of soda and ice-cream we found our way back up to the car for the VERY LONG ride back to pick up Brian from work. Thankfully, we had gotten a cell phone for me that week, so we were able to call him and let him know we’d be more than an hour late getting him.

It was almost more than an hour as I decided I had become an Italian driver and tried to (almost, scarily so, unsuccessfully) pass a semi-truck on the 2 lane highway. I timed it so “perfectly” that our car became sandwiched between 2 semi-trucks, each going opposite ways. You know in the movies where it looks like the car won’t make it and at the last minute (God knows how) the car comes out all right despite the laws of physics and gravity? Well, that was us. Honestly, I thought we were done for. I think my heart actually stopped. Maybe that pilgrimage to Assisi paid off. We had both St. Francis and St. Clare on our side I guess. Amen.

So ended our day trips for a while. I have cancelled plans for other Umbrian and Tuscan villages. I decided that there are only so many medieval rock towns that children really want to see. And the ones we saw previously were almost more magical as there was nothing special about them. Just people working and living. Living history in buildings and villages that have been around for hundreds if not thousands of years. Kids (including my own) playing and laughing on the swings in the small town square. And if that isn’t magic, I don’t know what is.