On the train from Montevarchi to Orvieto
Early Afternoon
This morning, Gia, Beppe and I had a long breakfast, one that stretched from 9:00 until 11:30 when I had to leave for my train. Somehow, we managed to get on the topic of accountants and the difficulty of dealing with a business that has to bend to both Italian and American tax laws. Since they are having great difficulties with their American accountant, Gia asked if I knew someone I trusted. I suggested two people so who knows? Maybe I can network some transatlantic business.
Otherwise, the conversation was all over the place, much of it taking in the many mutual acquaintances we keep discovering that we have in common. Not surprisingly, by the time I had to go I was already beginning to miss them.
Gia and Beppe are a great couple. They seem to have that kind of synchronization that creates a synergy capable of most anything. Beppe is cool, even-tempered and very compulsively organized. Gia is intense, self-reflective without being self-abusive, and has a mind that moves from one topic to the next with lightning speed yet absolute logic. I think one of the reasons that I connect with them so easily is because I see facets of myself in each of them. I look forward not only to working with them on this film, but also to the continued building of the friendship between us.
Just before I went to collect my bags, Gia asked me a favor. She had a small package that she wants to ship to her sister back in the states. Having attempted to ship something from Italy a few times in the past I was completely sympathetic. It is perfectly normal to spend a hundred dollars attempting to get something back to the U.S that in all probability will never arrive. I put it in my bag with the promise to ship it as soon as I get back.
When it was time to go I hugged Beppe then headed of to the station with Gia trotting alongside with her bike. The sky was threatening and during our short walk it went from dark gray to pitch black. She came out onto the platform with me where we stood under the awning as the rains came then went away again within just a few minutes. The sky was now sunny, but more clouds were approaching. Wanting to take advantage of the moment of calm, Gia decided to head back. We made our goodbyes with the promise to share dinners, their place and mine, when they get back to Chicago in September.
We just passed through Terontola-Cortona, a striking valley whose beauty I saw last year from the opposing viewpoints of Cortona and Montepulciano. The sky continues to alternate between bright blue and ominous gray. Both have the effect of adding drama to the already beautiful hills of lower Tuscany.
Mid-afternoon
Oh, I have a feeling that I'm going to like Orvieto. It is an ancient mountaintop town that forms a big triangle with Montepulciano and Cortona. Stretching between the three is the vast central plain that is bisected halfway through with Tuscany on the north and Umbria on the south.
The train arrived on time at the station at the base of the mountain. Outside is a funicular that goes up this mountain to deposit the visitors at the start of the town. Unfortunately, this is closed so I had to settle for the bus. This rickety tin box pulled us up the side of the mountain revealing one spectacular view after another as it turned corners and darted perilously close to the edge. The bus deposited us at the piazza, one dominated by an extraordinary duomo that I could see from the train when we were still about ten miles out.
At this point I was clueless about where I had to go next. I had an address but what do I know from locations here? It was then that I came upon the kindness of strangers. The bus driver had been talking to an older man, clearly an acquaintance, as I was getting off the bus. I asked the driver if he knew the address. Before he could respond, the old man grabbed my wrist and motioned to follow him. The next thing I knew, he was leading me through a maze of streets. We could barely speak each other's language so it was mostly silent. The only time he said anything was when he took the slip of paper from me to check the address.
"Albergo Grand Italia?," he said then whistled. "Buona albergo! Molto bene!" It was a good endorsement coming from a local.
As we reached the Piazza del Popolo he stopped and pointed down the street then made a curving gesture to say that I should go right at the palazzo.
"Grazie," I said. "Mille grazie."
He smiled and waved off my gratitude. "Have good time," he said haltingly. With that, he ducked into a doorway, presumably his apartment.
I found the hotel at the end of the vicolo that runs alongside the palazzo. It has a simple entrance that leads to a beautiful old fashioned reception area. The pleasantly plump female concierge, who's English is blessedly better than my Italian, moved me through quickly and sent me up to my room.
As Italian hotel rooms go, this is one of the best. An L-shaped room in bright Tuscan yellow (like sunlight but with a slight touch of green), it has two large French windows that open out onto the ancient walls and tiled roofs of the surrounding buildings. Although cloudy, the sun is coming through and bouncing off the walls and the dark wood floors. Given that all of this was a last minute decision, I'm so far thrilled with the way it is playing out.
Evening
I went out for a walk around town. My first stop was the Piazza del Popolo, a small square dominated by an Etruscan church. By Italian standards, this is small chapel; by American standards, a very large church. The nave here is stripped down. The massive but unadorned columns support an intricately beamed ceiling spread over an empty stone floor. Once you reach the bema, the sort of DMZ in front of the altar, the columns suddenly gain visual depth by applying piping that runs floor to crown. The ceiling over this area is strikingly painted in wedges of blue with gold frames. In the middle of the otherwise fairly dark chancel stood a Virgin Mary surrounded by candles and Italian twinkle lights.
Although there were a few tourists there when I started to walk around the chapel, all but me had left within a few minutes. Being alone in a large dark church can have an eery quality. This was made more so today by a door at the side of the church that kept banging shut then flying open in the wind.
My next stop was the Duomo di Orvieto, the massive cathedral I saw from the train. It rests on what appears to be the highest ground in the city and is fronted by a wide but not particularly expansive piazza. Begun in 1290 but not officially completed until 1499, it has undergone a series of modernizations over the years.
Similar to the great Duomo in Siena, this one was constructed by layering black rock on white in progression all the way to the roof. The result is that it has the emblematic stripes of the cathedrals of this period. The main entry is also heavily filigreed with vibrantly tiled frescos, metal birds and bronze doors, each added during a different period of modernization. Inside, the striping continues, not only on the walls but also on the columns that support the beamed roof. Like the other church, this beaming also gives way to brightly painted ceiling frescoes over the bema and altar.
Flanking the bema are two ancillary chapels. One is set aside strictly for worshippers, but the other, the Cappella di San Brizzio, is open and quite extraordinary. Floor to ceiling murals painted by Fra Angelico depict the judgment of Christ. The flanking walls, completed after Fra Angelico's death by Luca Signorelli, depict the end of the world and the resurrection of the flesh. There is also an odd sense of humor to the murals. At certain points, portholes are painted with Renaissance men crawling out of them, presumable trying to escape the condemnation faced by the others. Unfortunately, no photos are allowed in this section and there is a guard walking around to make sure that we all abide by this.
After leaving the Duomo, I walked down to the overlook. This side of the mountain reveals a narrow valley with another set of hills rising up almost immediately. The result is that the vineyards appear to be rolling down the slope and into the valley below.
I began to realize that I was hungry, a not unreasonable discovery since I hadn't eaten since a fairly small breakfast at Gia and Beppe's. I walked back toward the hotel and found a small ristorante with outdoor seating that happened to be in the shade. This was a very good option at this moment. I got a lasagna and a large beer from a waiter who seemed nice but not really all there. Not crazy, just slightly disconnected from reality. After this, I got a gelato (only my second since I got to Italy last week) and went back to the room for a quick rest. My plan for this evening is to Skype with Bridget then go for an evening stroll around town.
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