Early Evening
The best laid plans require one thing: That I can stay awake to actualize them. Last night, I had the best of intentions of skyping Bridget then going for a walk around town. Feeling a bit tired, I lay down on the bed around 5:00. When I opened my eyes, it was nearly 9:00. I was already a half hour late for our Skype date, and by the time we got off, I was way too spaced out to go for a walk. I just crawled back into bed and went to sleep. Again.
As is always true when I come here, my dreams become very vivid. I had a number of them last night, none of which I'll go into here. But it's been like this the last several nights. They aren't unpleasant; they're just vivid dreams with arc'ing narratives. Not really normal for me.
One thing was very clear this morning: I need to get some laundry done. When I was coming in yesterday, the receptionist told me that laundry service is available. Thinking that this might be a good option, I asked her today if I could arrange for it. Now, instead of extolling a service, she went in the other direction.
"You don't want to do this," she said. "Let me tell you how much." She told me it would be 16,50 Euro for one pair of trousers (roughly $21 dollars), 12,50 Euro ($15) for a shirt, and 2 Euro for each pair of socks or underwear. Even a conservative estimate would put this laundry run at over $100. I thanked her then asked if she knew where the closest lavanderia could be found.
"Not in Orvieto," she said. "Nearest one is in Orvieto Scalo." This would be down the mountain to the part of the community that actually has services. She didn't know of any specific ones but knew there were some down there.
I went back to the room and checked online. There are five listed in Orvieto Scalo but none are within range of the bus lines. I'm now debating whether I should spend tomorrow trying to figure this out, or live with what I have and take an early train to Rome on Thursday and do it there. One way or the other, it's going to have to wait.
According to the now wholly untrustworthy weather.com, today was to be cloudy with intermittent rain. I decided to take off in advance of whatever front actually did come through and to get in as much sightseeing as I could.
Having gone right out the door of my hotel yesterday, today I went left. In reasonably short order I was at the edge of the mountain and looking into the valley that fascinated me so much last year when I was in Cortona. It is still extraordinary. The rolling and verdant valley is surrounded on three sides by the Apennine Mountains. The overlook offers a view of at least 50 to 60 miles on a clear day which today was.
And wasn't.
To the west, the sky was bright with big and very non-threatening white clouds billowing overhead. To the east, thick black clouds were sweeping a fierce storm across the peaks. The big question was, of course, in which direction are the dark ones headed? One way or the other, what was fascinating was the fact that I could sit in one place and with just a slight turn of my head see two radically different weather fronts and the trough between them.
It appeared that the storm was moving straight north so I decided not to be worried and go about my business. Off to the left, there was a church on a promontory sticking out over the valley. It checked it out on the map the hotel provided and it appeared to be Chiesa di San Giovenale, an ancient church from the days when Orvieto was briefly the seat of the Catholic Church.
Getting to it meant following my instincts more than the map. It became pretty clear early on that the map wasn't an exact tool. My instincts stood in well for me and I was there in about five minutes. Too bad it was closed.
According to the same map, Complesso di Sant' Agostino was just around the corner. Surprisingly, it was.
The Complesso was for most of its life a small chapel attached to the convent of the Angostiniani nuns. Now, though, it is a sculpture museum. At present, it features the Annunciation by Francesco Mochi as well as statues of other religious figures by Pisani and Montelupo.
In order to get in I first needed a ticket. The man at the desk was friendly. Maybe a mite too friendly. His primary job was to sell me a discount ticket good for three museums. Since they were all ones that I wanted to check out the discount ticket was a no-brainer. At this point, he wanted to make sure that I knew what each museum had in its collection, what its hours of operation are, and that he had brochures for each. While his English was impeccable, his brochures were not.
"Only Italian," he said. "So sorry. But much good information so you take anyway." He shoved a fistful of brochures at me, none of which I could read. He then took out a map and showed me where everything was. When he was done, he offered me the map. I made some comment about how it had to be better than the one I had. He asked to see it.
"Yes, yes," he said. "Very different."
I asked if he thought the one he was offering was better.
"Some good, some bad in both."
He shoved his map toward me. I handed him mine and asked if he could throw it out.
"Better keep," he said. "Two together might be right"
Just as I was about to go into the chancel he put up his finger.
"You wait."
He turned to an ancient cassette player, put in a tape, and pressed the on button. It started playing something suitably Medieval. He then waved me in.
The old church is gone, or at least any physical representations of it beyond an obvious area for an altar. Along the sides leading to this are colonnades of ancient statues. At the front, are two that were quiet intelligently placed. One is of St. Michael the Archangel. He is pointing his left hand toward the Heavens. The finger is perfectly positioned to be pointing at the light coming in the high window. A few feet away is another statue. This one has been positioned so that the tilt of its head seems to be acknowledging St. Michael.
As I left I called.out "grazie" to the receptionist. As soon as he saw that I was leaving he turned off the cassette and called out "Ciao!" My guess is that he doesn't see more than two or three people a day.
My next stop was the Palazzo del Gusto - the Palace of Taste. This used to be - not surprisingly - a church, but has since been turned into the nexus point for the wineries of the region. At least this is what it is said to be. Maybe I was there too early, but there was nothing even remotely like this in my inspection of the place. All I saw was a miniature version of the Brunelleschi Cloisters at Santa Croce. Oddly enough, hanging all around the inner walls of this cloister were signs telling of Italy's role in the First World War and the rise of Italian fascism. I really wasn't sure what this had to do with wine production in Umbria.
I headed back to the Piazza della Repubblica. On the way there, I passed through the Piazza del Popolo. My hotel is ostensibly on this square, but is in fact about four blocks from it. I'm glad for this since the Piazza del Popolo isn't particularly inspiring.
Back in the Piazza della Repubblica, I sat for about a half an hour and just watched the people go by. Unlike the other piazzas in the tourist area, this one seems less trodden by outsiders. Here, the old ladies stand and talk to each other while the old men sit and talk to each other. The women clutch their purses and talk in hushed tones while the men are loud and gesticulate wildly. My favorite of the latter was a shopkeeper who came out to make a call. He was arguing loudly with the person on the other end. His free hand was punching and jabbing the air so hard that I thought he might rip a hole in the time/space continuum.
Both maps seemed to agree that the Corso Cavour, the main street in this part of town, would lead to the Piazza Cahen. I didn't really know what was there, but I was in a rambling mood so I headed off for it. Along the way, I found a beautiful little church, the Chiesa di S. Maria dei Servi, and ducked in for a while.
The Piazza Cahen is the base of the old town. I didn't know it yesterday, but I had come through this on the way to the hotel. This is the point at which the funicular (which will apparently be operation on my last day here) deposits people coming to Orvieto from the train station. Next to the exit is a large gate that leads into the Giardini Publico, the public gardens. I was about to go through when a truck started to pass through the gate. The driver had to stop, pull in his mirrors and then be directed out. He had a clearance of less than three or four inches. This I have noticed is pretty common around here. The streets are incredibly narrow, so much so that even small cars have to adjust a couple of times to make a turn.
When I finally got into the gardens I could see a group of technicians putting up a temporary stage. Off to the left was a group of young girls, all members of a dance troupe. They were there to check on the stage, and clearly the technicians were there to check on them. There was so much "cock of the walk" posturing going on that it was quite clear that no work was getting done. The choreographer, an attractive women in her late twenties, was trying to get the dancers attention away from the strutting roosters and failing miserably. I found it particularly odd that this choreographer was also chain smoking.
Both maps agreed that the road to the left would lead me directly back to the Duomo. This may have been true, but this was a narrow road with fast cars and no sidewalk. I wasn't about to attempt getting back that way. Instead, I went right back up Corso Cavour.
A short way from the turnoff to the Duomo, I spotted a sign on the Teatro Mancinelli that one could take a tour for 2 Euro. Why not?
It isn't a tour so much as a pass into the place. The theater itself is quite intimate with seating for certainly no more than 200. In spite of this fact, it is built like a miniature opera house with private boxes scaling up three tiers. It is a perfectly pleasant little matchbox theater with a mural covering the ceiling.
The real treasures in the building, though, are the ancillary spaces. There are two private performance rooms for recitals, both of which are delirious in their color schemes and beautiful mural-covered ceilings. Each of the rooms is painted in deep yet bright blues, yellows and reds with chairs that are covered in fabrics that are just as bold.
From here I headed back toward the Duomo. I was looking for the place where the tour of Orvieto's underground passages was to start. I missed the 12:15 tour so decided to hold on this until tomorrow. My guess is that the laundry will take the better part of the day so I made sure there were tours going well into the late afternoon.
I sat in the Piazza del Duomo for quite a while. As I do in Florence's Loggia, I was looking for tourists to shoot. When I finally decided to get up and walk, I headed across the piazza to Museo Emilio Greco. This was one of the museums that my newly acquired discount card would let me tour.
The museum is dedicated to the work of a local artist, but for once it isn't a Renaissance or Medieval artist. Greco was plying his art in the mid-20th century and its minimalism stands in stark contrast to everything else in the area. The work - pencil sketches and sculptures - are primarily nudes except for one massive suspended bas relief of a religious icon. The building itself is ancient, an adjunct of the Duomo, but everything in it is modern. The most striking architectural element is a red and black circular staircase in the center of the room. It stops about ten feet from the ceiling and offers an overlook of the collection.
Directly behind the Duomo and to the right of the Museo Emilio Greco is the Palazzi Papali. This was the last of the museums on my discount card. It is the polar opposite of its neighbor. This is a collection of religious artifacts, paintings and sculptures from Orvieto's papal period. Initially, the building that houses the collection was the lodging for the three popes who spanned the years 1261 to 1283.
Given the history, the museum isn't particularly inspiring. A good deal of the reason for this is the poor lighting of the place. There are few windows and multiple interior rooms. The lighting in each is kept very low so as not to blanche the colors of the paintings. Unfortunately, this means you can barely seen anything. This is also a museum where they do not allow photos (my camera would have compensated the lighting deficiencies). To make sure that you abide by this and all the other rules of the house, a young gap-toothed woman was walking from room to room and pleasantly telling people all the things that they were doing wrong.
At this point, I was quite justifiably tired so decided to go back to my room for a rest. After a short while, I started to get into planning mode. I have yet to get a hotel in Rome nor the train tickets to get us to Messina. I went online and started figuring so many possible ways of dealing with it that I finally put it aside. I'll work it out later this evening after I have a chance to throw some options at Bridget.
Once again, I'd gotten almost all the way through a day without even thinking about eating. I also needed to get some cash so it seemed as good a time as any to do both. Getting a sandwich was easy. Getting the money? Not so much.
There is a BNL Bank machine just outside the door of this hotel. This is great since it has a reciprocal relationship with my US bank and does not charge for a withdrawal. Well, it would be great if the machine was working. It wasn't. I next tried the machine at Unida Banca Roma. This one kept asking me to tell it what language I wanted to transact in then refused to believe me when I told it. Every time I hit "English" a sign would pop up that read "attendere prego" (please wait) then returned me to the same screen and once again asked for the language. At least it wasn't an anti-American thing. It wouldn't allow me to try in French or German either - although the woman in front of me got it to work in German. When I finally gave up and asked for my card back, it attendere prego'ed me for nearly a minute before it finally spit it out.
The third time was the charm. Banca di Risparmia was perfectly willing to let me have the money...on the second try. And it wasn't as much as I wanted, but at least I got it.
I'm just hoping it's enough to take care of my laundry.
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