The Pantheon, temple of all the gods, in Rome, Lazio.
Looking northward and standing in the Via Flaminia, the archway at the northern entrance to the ruined city of Carsulae, Umbria.
The valley between San Gemini and Cesi/Aqua Sparta as seen from the balcony of the Monastery of San Giovanni Battista in San Gemini. The superstrada (highway) can also be seen leading toward Perugia/Terni.
The Duomo at Orvieto. This is one of the most fantastic structures I have ever seen.
The countryside as seen from the parking lot in San Gemini.
The Christian church of Saints Damiano and Cosmo on the Via Flaminia at the Carsulae site.
Ruins of the temples of Castor and Pollux, the Dioscuri, at Carsulae.
What's left of the Temple of Saturn in the Forum Romanum, Rome, Lazio.
View of the Capitoline Hill from the central Forum Romanum, Rome, Lazio.
The Forum Romanum as viewed from the rear portico of the Capitoline Musuem on the Capitoline Hill, Rome, Lazio.
Overlooking the valley which holds the city of Terni, a prospect from San Gemini as seen from my bedroom window in the apartment in which we stayed. The top of the building in the foreground is the Palazzo Vecchio, the Old Palace.
The main piazza in San Gemini, the white building is the Edificio Municipio; it houses a coffee shop/bar and newsstand/gift shop on the lower floor.
The Basilica of Santa Maria degli Angeli which was built around the Porziuncola where St. Francis first heard his calling from God. The church is on the plain proceeding toward Assisi from Perugia.
A view from above Assisi looking down on the Basilica of St. Francis.
The main keep of La Rocca Maggiore above Assisi as viewed from the turret at the far end of the defensive wall.
Trajan's Column, Rome, Lazio.
The Monumento Nazionale a Vittorio Emanuele II viewed from the Forum Romanum in Rome, Lazio.
The Palazzo dei Priori in Perugia, Umbria.
A car outside the archaeological museum in Perugia; it says "Lavami, ti prego," or "wash me, please." I guess this is one of those universal things.
The terracotta of the Etruscan Hercules (It. - Erculo) in the museum in Perugia. It was labeled as a "young god," but come on, lion skin cloak, club, etc. It's Hercules.
The old Etruscan wall around the old, hilltop portion of Perugia, Umbria. 
The Etruscan Arch at the entrance to Perugia, Umbria.
The Palazzo della Provincia in Perugia, the capital of Umbria, with a bronze of Victor Emmanuel II who became the first king of a united Italy on February 18, 1861.
The Journal:
July 21st, 2008 – Albany, GA: Monday
Jay brought me to the airport at 12:00 P.M. sharp to catch the plane. Of course there was a line, and my printed e-mail confirmation for the flight wouldn’t scan in the self service kiosk. Why couldn’t they just have a few extra folks working there? So no quick check in. The lady I know there wasn’t working today either. I finally get up to the counter; the guy is nice and gets me all the boarding passes to end up at FCO-Leonardo Da Vinci in Rome. My passport scans just fine. It ought to for $100. It’s 100 degrees here in Albany today. It can’t be this hot in Italy. Rome lies at about 41 degrees north whereas we’re at about 31 degrees north here in southwest Georgia. But there must be a reason why the ancient Romans wore sandals and skirt-like tunics all the time.
The plane is supposed to fly out of Albany at 1:06 P.M., but I overhear that the plane has been delayed in Atlanta on its way here. It’s 1:08 now, so that means we won’t get out of here until, at the earliest, 2:00. There really is an interesting crowd here in the airport waiting to fly out. There’s a Greek Orthodox priest with the long beard and the uncut hair. I have to wonder what he’s doing in Albany, GA. If the flight is to leave Atlanta for Rome at 4:35, I still ought to be O.K. Before I left, I got to play Mariokart with L.; he let me be the small monkey, and I managed to win twice. I’m quite the nervous wreck today too. I ought to have brought some hydrocodone. I figure I’ll get lubed up at one of the bars in the Atlanta airport though, and that will smooth out the flight a little. I am nervous about leaving. My dad will probably burn the house down. The dogs will probably starve to death. I’ll probably get an F on the two papers I turned in before I left because I was in such a hurry to finish up my summer courses before this trip. But whatever. I’m through with English 8700 and English 8690 for better or worse. The fact that I even finished a class numbered “8700” has to say something. I’m not going to be in any kind of hurry to go through security either. They corral everyone into a little area here from which you cannot leave. Can’t even go to the bathroom. I hope this trip turns out well.
At 1:37 P.M., I’m in security. It seems so demeaning to have to take of your shoes and practically strip to go through the gate. I know why they do it, but I am sure that some of these people probably have foot cooties that I don’t want to get. At least I have socks on. I’ll have to remember to throw these socks away later. I was hoping to get to Atlanta by 2:00 or so to have a chance to get something to eat. I’m starving. Maybe I will have time. There are actually some decent places to eat in the Atlanta airport.
OK, I’ve figured it out. The earth turns east to west, and the plane will be going east to Italy. If we leave Atlanta at 4:35 P.M. Monday and arrive in Rome at 8:35 A.M. Tuesday, then that means you add the flight time to the time difference. I think central Europe is 8 hours ahead of the Eastern U.S. – that works out to 16 hrs. The math works. So that means I will really get to Rome at 2:35 A.M. Tuesday morning Eastern time. I’ll be starting a new day on Roman time, but my body will think it’s 2:35 A.M. when I get off the plane. That’s jet lag I guess. Maybe I can catch a nap when I get to San Gemini if “Rosella” – whoever this is – decided to change the sheets in the apartment. I decided to rent a car when I get there – I went in and reserved a sub-compact like a Fiat or something. That ought to be fun. The whole trip is starting to brighten a little for me. I figure if I can drive in Atlanta, I can drive anywhere. I figure too if I survived racetracks and living around Albany and Cordele, a bunch of Roman pickpockets will be laughable. But, now if the Sun god is driving his chariot westward, does that mean that the plane will meet him somewhere over the Atlantic? Maybe I’ll get to see lots of Europe from the plane. Wonder too if we’ll be at 37,000 ft. like the Nickelback song.
On the flight from Albany to Atlanta, I met a Mrs. Sims from Albany who was on her way to Seattle with her daughter. She was really nice. We got to talking, and she is one of these people who has been everywhere. She kept downing Italy though and talking about how it wasn’t as pretty as Austria and Germany and all this. Well whatever. I wanted to tell her that I didn’t want to go to Austria and Germany – nothing personal of course, it’s just that I prefer Italy. If I did, I wouldn’t have a ticket to Italy. But anyway she taught English at Darton in Albany and was very well traveled. We somehow got on the topic John Donne’s biography, and I think she figured out I knew a little something when I told her how many children he had and about his young wife. Then we got onto C.S. Lewis and his books. We had a nice conversation and exchanged e-mail addresses. Probably never hear from the old windbag again.
We finally get out of the Atlanta airport around 4:50. The international terminal was really interesting too. I heard several different languages. Like the Mos Eisley spaceport on Tatooine. I went and got some Chinese food before to flight – “Beijing beef,” green beans, fried rice, etc. The plane takes off finally. There are a bunch of Mormon kids on the plane who are apparently going to Italy to do whatever it is Mormons do when they go on their missions. They look really young. They really don’t seem to be speaking Italian very well either, although they are practicing really loudly and laughing a lot. “Io sono…” “¡Uno gelato, per favore!” The plane is only about half full as well. Strange. I guess the dollar versus the euro has something to do with this.
By 7:57 Eastern time, we’re flying over Nova Scotia and soon will be over Prince Edward Island. Dinner on the plane is chicken, potatoes, green beans and corn, etc. And a mini bottle of a chardonnay. I have to wonder if the stewardesses ever get tired of saying, “Chicken or pasta.” They have to!!! By 8:01 P.M. we’re over P.E.I., home of Lucy Maude Montgomery and where Avonlea was filmed. It’s -21 Celsius outside the plane. I’m getting a little cagey already. I can’t sit much longer. The air is turbulent too. So seatbelts have to stay buckled. This plane is going to be altogether flexed out by the time we get there. Aluminum can only stress so much. I feel like I’m on a bad ride that won’t end at the Perry Fair. All this better be worth it. We’ll be over the Atlantic soon – open water; maybe we’ll see Poseidon stretched out on the waves.
Capitalism never misses an angle, does it? The flight attendants, I still say stewardesses, are now selling liquor and dolls and such from a cart right here on the plane. What has the world come to? It’s duty-free. What does that really mean anyway? This woman beside me buys two bottles of Jack Daniels for $44. That sounds a little high to me. I’ve seen it cheaper. Now there showing some movie with Matthew McConaughey in it. He’s swimming. I guess all the women on the plane are enjoying this. Then there’s this couple with their kid sitting in the next aisle. The kid will only eat the rye bread and none of the other food. I haven’t been able to hear them talk, but I’m betting on Eastern European or Russian. The kid has colored a lot of pictures which the dad seems to think are just wonderful. Now the kid is crawling under the seats and wriggling around in the floor. I guess I ought to take a nap. If I don’t, it will be as if I haven’t slept the whole night. I don’t want to fall asleep and have a wreck in the Fiat rental car when I get there. That thing would probably fold up like a cracker box if I got hit. I’m going to have to break down soon and use the airplane lavatory. Lavatory from the Latin “lavare” of course, “to wash.”
I think if I survive this trip I will try to travel more in the future. Especially to Europe before the Gulf Stream stops due to polar melt-off (if that theory holds true). But I’m none too crazy about this plane flight. It beats a wooden sailing ship from the days of old though. Or even a cruise ship like the Q.E II in terms of speed. O by Jove, I hope this trip turns out OK. I sure hope none of my luggage gets lost or none of my stuff gets stolen while abroad. That would ruin it for me. I hope the dogs get fed while I’m gone. I hope Jay gets better too. He’s a good guy. Took me to the airport as bad as he felt. I think he just wanted to get out of the house for a few minutes.
I feel a little better after the chardonnay with dinner. All hot inside. "Calescimus" & c. I bet that’s where Ovid got his inspiration for that line after a few glasses of vino. Spenser probably liked the line enough too for the same reason to put it in the Shepheardes Calendar too. I love Spenser. I know that Dr. K. finds it hard to believe, but besides Tolkien, in English lit., the FQ is one of the few things that I have ever gotten really excited about reading. I brought the Aeneid too with me. It seems appropriate somehow to read it in Italy. Now I won’t make it to Mantua, but it’s Italy just the same. I need another chardonnay. It’s probably 9:00 P.M. Eastern now. I ought to start the Aeneid.
It’s 9:55 P.M. at the place of origin, Atlanta. Time to destination: 4:55 hours. I’m sick of this plane. What am I doing? I ought to have gone to Iceland or Ireland. We’d be almost there by now according to the little live-flight-tracker map. We’re not too far from Iceland. I guess they wouldn’t let me out either. We’re not even half way across the Atlantic. I am too tired to read, and there is scarcely anyway to sleep with my ears being accosted by this roar and noise of this flying aluminum can. Next trip is to Iceland. It’s settled. At least we haven’t crashed yet – just hanging over the north Atlantic in mid-air. The kid who would only eat the rye bread and his parents are talking now. Definitely Russian. The kid goes, “I am THE Batman,” while fanning out his airline-provided blanket from his shoulders.
We’re over Ireland now, and the sun is coming up again. O my blessed lucky charms! 2.5 more hours to Italy. I have no idea what time it is. Dawn on Europe. Will we ever reach the Ausonian shores, Heperus, the Latin strand? I just managed to get through the first book of the Aeneid before I took a bit of a nap. I keep thinking of Peter Pan too. I’m getting delirious. Something about “second star and straight on till midnight.” I think when I get to the airport in Rome I will get myself straightened up so I won’t look like a throw-away. Who knows who I might run into. Sophia Loren, Giada De Laurentiis, you name it. I know I’ll get some coffee too to get woken up. I’m tempted to make a pass through Rome before I head up to San Gemini/Terni too. I pray that the car rental people will know a little English. I imagine this whole trip is going to turn out like the Griswold European vacation. But I won’t be able to fight any Germans while trying to do a dance in lederhosen though, since I will neither be in Germany nor be wearing lederhosen. I look out the plane window and can see a ship in the Irish Sea.
We fly over southwestern England and Wales, then over France. I was thinking that we’d be flying over the Massif Central, but no, it was the Alps we began to approach. I was able to pick out Lake Geneva by its distinctive shape. Looks like there is a good bit of snow on the mountain tops as well. You can just see the villages nestled down in the valleys too. I just saw what looked like some sort of hidden mountain lake too. We have to be getting closer to Italy now. The Alps are very sharp mountains. They must be geologically young. Looks too like we’re getting into the Piedmont now. I think I see some sort of a race track. This has to be the upper end of the Po River valley near Torino. I’ve been very impressed so far with what I can deduce is a very efficient utilization of the land for agricultural purposes over both Italy and France. The fields appear well cultivated and precisely set out. One never thinks of farmers and Frenchmen in the same sentence though. We go over Genoa, and I can see Elba off to the right. Finally – we are circling over Latium, or Lazio. The plane lowers its wheels for landing.
July 22, 2008 – Day One in Italy: Tuesday
The Rome airport – the plane lands way out from the terminal, and we have to take a small shuttle to the terminal. We line up to get our passports checked. The security seems a little looser than at home. The guy stamps my passport and waves me by. That’s it. He just turned me loose on Italy! There were two women behind me in line from Palatka, Florida. Not exactly what I expected to find here. Then a guy ahead of me and his family are wondering why the plane flew at an arc across the Atlantic instead of a straight line. I could not resist stepping in and explaining how the arc was the shortest distance between two points on a sphere, i.e. – the earth. Then the baggage claim. I finally figured out it was claim 10. My bag finally came out in one piece. What a relief. I went through to the front of the airport to get a map and some gum. Mainly to test my debit card. It worked! I wandered around just for the heck of it for a few minutes since I was on no set schedule. There were some people out front playing guitars and singing. I head for the rental car area. It wasn’t too crowded. I didn’t realize you had to take a ticket and wait your turn. The lady at the counter was nice. She asked me if I spoke good English – which I was speaking at the time to her! The funniest part of the trip so far. I suppose she’d never heard English exactly like mine. Maybe it sounded like English spoken by someone whose native language was something else? I threw a little Spanish at her and that seemed to smooth things over. They had the car for me, a Ford Fiesta, grey in color, stick shift. A cute little car. They let me out of the gates and off I went. The road signs are very self-explanatory…
The A-1 north toward Firenze was the road I needed to be on. I saw the exit and then missed it. I was headed straight for Rome’s heart. I said the heck with it and decided not to turn around. I drove around a few minutes, under an aqueduct, by some ruins I think were baths. I have seen pictures of the umbrella pines, but didn’t really have a concept of them. They are everywhere. Rome is a decent town though; but everything is not shiny and new like in the U.S. There was a good bit of graffiti and the roads were a bit rough, but that’s the case with any city. The traffic situation is just like in the movies. When I had enough, I looked for the A-1 north signs and followed them out of town. The autostrada is much like the interstate in the U.S. The large trucks stay in the right lane, and the left is supposed to be for passing or faster cars – of which there were lots. BMWs and Audis kept blowing past me. I just kept it on 110 kph since the last thing I wanted was a ticket here, and I wasn’t used to driving this car yet! The countryside going north from Rome is very pretty and attractive. Hills, lots of flat valleys, I guess that’s why they call it Latium, wide and flat, from “latus.” I went through the Sabine Hills and then got off at a truck stop/gas station for a break. Tried to call Dr. W., but no answer. The phone took my whole damn euro! I stayed on the autostrada to Orte, took a right to Terni.
The San Gemini exit came up soon. Got off on the smaller two-lane road, and what do I see? The universal leaping deer sign, but not as in John Deere. I guess the deer are here jumping in front of cars too. The road is scenic. Olive trees are everywhere. Quaint, Romanesque houses, cows, ducks, etc. I’m in Umbria now. Get to San Gemini and park. I walk around a bit. No pay phones. Frustration sets in. No telephone at the post office. So then I walk by a little café. “Una birra grande, per favore” just flows out of my mouth. It’s that time. There just happened to be an English family there eating; they knew of no phones either. I finish the drink and walk up to a church and go in, sit down, and pray a while. I walked back through the town, very medieval and cool. Finally, I walk by a restaurant, and there’s Dr. W. and her crew having lunch. What a relief to find them. I would have eventually as small as the town was, but still. I have a salad and some bread, very good. Then a cappuccino. We go to the monastery they’re working out of, tour around the village, the view is awesome from the monastery – you can see all the way across the valley. Back at San Giovanni Battista, I helped label pottery fragments for a while.
By now it was time for supper. We decided to go to a local festival that was going on, dancing, tents to eat under, food, and music. The most fun was watching the people. No tourists here, all locals except me and Dr. W. We sat with an older Italian couple who usually live in Brussels and Giorgio Medici. He knows some English. We had bruschetta, pasta with a rabbit sauce (lepore), wild boar stew (cinghiale), bread, some type of fried cheesy rice balls, and a type of potato salad. All very good. Giorgio is an older retired fellow that Dr. W. knows from the village. We got into a root word discussion – about “capere” and “habere” descending from the same Indo-European root. Then we walked up to the village to have some gelato. Pistacchio is good. The same waiter recognized me from earlier that day as the guy who was lost and had stopped to have a beer. We go back, and it’s instantly to bed for me after getting cleaned up. I essentially had slept none the night before.
July 23, 2008 – Day Two in Italy: Wednesday
I got up around 7:30 and got ready. Went to the Bar Centrale for a coffee. Caffe latte actually and used the internet there a few minutes. I sat outside a while out front with Dr. W., and a guy named Stephano bought her a pastry. Then we head up to the monastery – more labeling pottery. At 10:00 we went into Terni to make copies. I wander around while Dr. W. is in the copy store. We went back to San Gemini for a few minutes and then headed up to the Carsulae site for lunch and a bit of work. I bought a book about Umbria in the gift shop at the site. We look around a few minutes. Wendy is through digging in her square, so we back-fill it.
Then I get a tour of the whole site. Amazing. The theme seems to be “twins” in the area. The temples of Castor and Pollux, the church of the twin saints, Cosmo and Damiano, and of course San Gemini’s name itself. There are twin temple ruins on the top of one of these mountains too. I see the Anfiteatro, the Teatro, the Balnea, the Basilica, the medieval church, the gens Furii tomb, the stylized tooth tomb that’s been reconstructed, and the Via Flaminia. The grooves in the stones now are thought to have been done on purpose, not from wear, to keep the wagons from veering out of control on slick roads. Also I learn too that the groove width for the wagons was the same gauge used by the British on the first railroads. The town grew up because of the road and perhaps for its waters. It was destroyed by an earthquake. It shifted a portion of the decumanus over at least ten feet, still visible today. Finally then, Dr. W. schooled me on her excavation site and all that had been found at the baths.
We go back to San Gemini, and while she draws, I washed and organized the animal bone fragments that had been unearthed. I’m out at a fountain getting buckets of water, and a guy comes up and starts asking me directions to some restaurant, in Italian. As soon as I opened my mouth, the ruse was up, but I guess maybe I don’t look too touristy either. Later, we went to have supper with Bianca and Maurizio, a couple from Rome. She’s a conservator and he’s a school teacher; they have come up to help with the excavation and classification of artifacts. They’re very nice people. I ordered some pasta and a salad, more delicious bread, bruschetta, and some more good wine is consumed. €85 for four people, I guess that’s not terrible. I am actually picking up a few words here and there of the conversation. Bianca has good English too though. The appetizer was a plate of cheese and sliced salami with honey for dipping. It sounded strange, but was actually tasty. I’m thinking too how expensive things are here. I’ve spent 200 euros already. We return to the apartment, and I wind down by watching an Italian show about the Japanese tuna market in Tokyo.
July 24, 2008 – Day Three in Italy: Thursday
I got up very early and looked out over the Terni valley. Went down to get coffee and got on the web. No e-mails from anyone at home. Is there something wrong and they’re not telling me? There is an article in the Umbria paper about the “cinghiale” again and dove (palombo) hunting. Interesting. Never thought about hunting being popular in Italy. I wish they had sent me a message so I wouldn’t worry and could really and truly enjoy the trip. That’s the story of my life though. Get all the way over here and can do little else than perseverate on the horrors that might be taking place 4500 miles away. We walk back up to San Giovanni Battista and get to work. I finished the animal bone fragments and then started back on the pottery. There are some really cool pottery pieces. At 11:30 we decided to go into Terni and pick up the copies and go by the hardware store for some bins to store artifacts. I went to the ATM while Dr. W. got the copies. Then to the hardware store. I looked around and thought about getting some souvenir tools, but their stuff is made in Taiwan too. We load up all the stuff in the trunk. Just as we are pulling out, a car comes out of nowhere like a bat out of hell. No time to back up. He slams on brakes and just glances or clips the front bumper. I don’t know whose fault it was. The lady and the guy from inside the store come out to see what’s going on. The guy who hit me was adamant about not calling the police. My bet is that he either didn’t have insurance, was already in trouble with the law, or had a high deductible and thought he could get his car fixed somewhere cheaply. He kept saying “due cento euros” was the amount he would need to get his car fixed. He decided to settle his damages on his own and left. I picked up the tag and threw it in the back of the car. I was terrified the whole time. My hands were shaking.
I finally calmed down. We drove through Terni in an attempt to visit the Cascate Marmore, a man-made waterfall the Romans built (of course) that is now a part of the electrical company I assumed and is only turned on for certain times each day. I also learned that Terni was where the rifle that shot JFK was made. Also, the town was extensively bombed during WWII since Mussolini’s artillery and gun factories were located here. We finally find a restaurant. Pricey but good. I got stuffed zucchini. We finally made it back to San Gemini.
At 3:00, I took off for Orvieto – an Etruscan hill town originally. It was an easy drive from Orte up the A-1 to Orvieto. Off the autostrada and up a curvy road. The town sits on a sort of escarpment of sorts and is very pretty. I got a free map and walked through the town. I visited the Duomo, a very awesome cathedral. I went in and sat down. I think I’ve probably survived this trip because of the prayers I’ve sent heavenward in all these churches I’ve visited. Catholic, Protestant – that has to be the least of God’s worries. Then I stepped into the Museo Archaeologico, the Etruscan Museum of Orvieto. Many, many excellent artifacts. Three mirrors, a bronze armor set, two tomb reproductions: the kitchen and dining room tomb and the chariot and funeral scene in the other. The museum curator even showed me around as I was the only person in there. Very nice lady. We had a small language barrier, but we worked it out. I went into a small store afterwards and got a book about the Etruscans – for "dodici" euros. The older man who ran he little shop gave me a big smile when he put the book in the bag for me and I replied “molto grazie.” Americans who come here and have problems are obviously acting like jerks to begin with. A “buon giorno” or a “buona sera” can go a long way. People anywhere are nice back to you when you include a “please” and a “thank you” – no matter the language. I wandered in some shops and got some obligatory refrigerator magnets and postcards. I had supper at a small restaurant – lasagna which was very tasty for €15. I head back “home” to San Gemini worn out. Very tired from the day. I had to make a pit stop in Orte. Went in a bathroom, and it had foot-operated levers to control the water. Nothing to touch – we need these in the U.S. Watched a movie about medieval Italy. Maybe I’ll go to Perugia tomorrow.
July 25, 2008 – Day Four in Italy: Friday
I got up early again today. Caffe latte again. I left San Gemini and headed up to Perugia. It’s not too far away and is the regional capital of Umbria. It’s a rather large town too. I wanted to find the Ipogeo dei Voltunii as well today. I kept seeing signs for it as I drove along. It turns out I had passed it right by on the way in. When I came back by later that day, they had closed for siesta time. It was sitting right by a railroad track crossing. But anyway, I got into Perugia about 9:30 or 10:00 and wasn’t sure where to park. I drove through the city center and then went back down like I came in and found a shady spot to park. I walked back up into the city to the first piazza with a large park of pretty trees and a large bronze of Victor Emmanuel II. Took some pictures, bought some postcards. I walked through the city and couldn’t find what I was looking for. I finally just stepped into an EU regional office and asked for directions. The lady even gave me a map. Although she said it wasn’t a tourist office, “just for me,” she would let me have a map and point me to the museum. The National Archaeological Museum of Umbria is packed with Etruscan artifacts – cinerary urns, bronze chariot coverings, pottery, etc. They also have the terracotta Etruscan Hercules. The plaque said it was a “young god,” but I knew who it was. Went through the entire place – very extensive collection and very impressive. Stepped in a little pizza place and got a slice “con funghi” – mushroom. I walked back through to see the cathedral; this one was very plain on the outside but extremely ornate on the inside. Next, I sought out the Etruscan wall and the Etruscan arch, easily found. It was still early in the day, and I’d seen a lot here, but I’m sure there was more I didn’t know I was missing.
I decided to head over to Assisi since it was only 15 miles away. This was a good decision. I stopped and visited the cathedral in the valley floor, the Basilica of Santa Maria degli Angeli that contains the smaller church where St. Francis received his calling. I went on up into Assisi and see a bunch of young Francisan monks in their monk outfits, but also wearing sunglasses; this is Italy after all. Walked through the town. Above the town higher up sits La Rocca Maggiore. This place was calling my name. It was a steep hike up there. It was worth it. The castle sits on a rocky outcrop and has several defensive towers. “Tre e cinquanta euros” to get in of course. There weren’t too many visitors up there, a good thing since the passageways in the castle are very tight, steep stairs too. I didn’t buy the book on the castle. I can look it up later. The view from the towers is panoramic. It basically overlooks the whole valley – a very logical place for a castle I suppose. Luckily it was a clear day too. The descent was far easier. Filled up my water bottle at the fountain and finally found the car. The fountains along the streets I have found to provide cool and tasty waters.
I got back to San Gemini around 6:00 or so. I took a short break, and then Dr. W. and I make the perilous drive up the mountainside to St. Erasmo. This is one of those one-lane mountain roads with a huge drop off on one side. If you meet a car, you have to stop and let them by, or vice versa. I stalled out the car twice on the incline and had to roll back a little ways to go again. Once at the top, we explored the 4th century B.C. Umbrian ruins of a town that was up there. St. Erasmo is located there amongst the ruins too, except the church is maintained and in use still. The mountain top was very cool, in temperature too. Another panoramic view. I really liked this place. To have lived up here would probably have been fun, until the winter came. Gigantic boulders had been fitted into walls, and the site contained all sorts of things ripe for exploration. There is also a medieval fortification on a crag further off the mountain that looks like it would be fun to hike too. We then went to a little restaurant in Aqua Sparta that specialized in stuffed pizza. It was excellent. Dr. W. got a steak – basically no different than home except you’re given lemon wedges to squeeze on it. I got the tiramisu for dessert. This Italian family was sitting beside us. The women had big hair, and the whole family really seemed to be enjoying themselves. This restaurant served “cinghiale” too. Supposedly too, there is a real-life hermit that lives up above the town and is building a house which the townspeople go up and help him with. But if he is having contact with outsiders, is he technically a hermit? I saw a place on the way into town that bottled and sold its own olive oil. May try to go back there.
July 26, 2008 – Day Five in Italy: Saturday
Rome. We drive into Orte to catch the train into Rome. The ticket machine ate my €20 bill and would only give me a ticket to cash in. We get the tickets finally and get on the train. The train is nice, the Eurostar. Only thing, as it goes through tunnels it creates a pressure that makes your ears pop. The conductor never came to check our tickets, so we got to ride for free I guess, but not really. They got their money at the ticket machine. We get into Rome about 10:30. The Stazione is huge. A very chaotic place. I’m glad now I rented a car and didn’t go from the airport to here and try to find transportation. That would have been too much of a shock for my poor little countryfied self. We walked down the Via Nazionale toward Trajan’s Column. Near it is the Victor Emmanuel II monument that makes it into most of the movies where Rome is shown. We get down to the Forum and go ahead and get the tickets for the Forum, Capitoline, and Coliseum. The place is swarming with tourists. We can’t get near the temple of Mars Ultor either. We went through the Forum Romanum. I thought the Regia would have been larger. Couldn’t see it very well. Also we saw the navel of the world. Rome is the center of the world, and so then the navel has to be in the Forum. They had let weeds grow up in some places; they need to turn me loose with a weed-eater or some Roundup.
The Capitoline Museum is fantastic. Everything practically is there – the list is too long to mention. They have opened up the temple of Vediovis (Little Jupiter) underneath and have a new exhibit with the bronze Marcus Aurelius and the foundation of the temple of Giove (Iuppiter). I had no idea it was once so large and imposing and that it had been built as early as it had. Before the rest of the city mostly. We had lunch with Mrs. B., a friend of Dr. W.’s. We had met up with Meghan by chance too on the street. She and I finished the museum together. We saw the dying Gaul statue; he had a cool mustache. I wasn’t expecting that. We split after that and explored on our own. I went down to the Tiber, the temple of Portumnus, and the circular temple right beside it. The Tiber was a bright green. No sight of horned Father Tiber rising up from the living waters though. Then I walked along the Circus Maximus, just a big field now, to the Palatine. It was quite a hike up there. I didn’t go in the House of Augustus just because the line was long and I was about to have a heatstroke. I did see the Romulan hut remnants. Went back down and to the Coliseum. Crowded of course.
I found a gelateria and took a break. The Domus Aurea was closed too. I walked back up through town to a shopping street to look for some red pants. It seems like all the cool guys here are wearing them. I found a shirt for 10 euros anyway. I then cut back across down the Via del Tritone towards the Pantheon. I got turned around once, but asked a policeman for directions and he sent me on my way. Everybody smokes a lot here. Even the policemen. Finally found the Pantheon. Crowded. I knew what to look for here since I’d seen several shows about the place. I met back up with Dr. W. and Lee here. We walked to the Piazza Navona and sat down to have a drink, but it was so overpriced, we apologized and left. We found a smaller place on a back street. Jovanotti was on the radio as usual. Some teenagers were playing cards and smoking of course. Then we met up with Max and Polly to have dinner. They knew a non-touristy place. My feet are aching at this point. I wonder if anyone has ever tried to cover this much in one day. I didn’t even make it to the Vatican. Dinner was delightful. Roasted chicken in a rosemary and mushroom sauce with potatoes, very simple and basic. We took a cab back to the Stazione. We at last figure out which train to take, except now it’s not the Eurostar. This one got up to speed and sounded as if it would fly apart at any second. We did get to ride for free this time. The ticket guy came around and looked at the ticket we’d bought earlier, punched it and went on about his business. We got back to San Gemini about midnight. I had gotten a parking ticket at Orte. I’m thinking I might get away with not paying it.
July 27, 2008 – Day Six in Italy: Sunday
The bells are ringing at 8:00 A.M. and wake me up. I ought to get my sorry behind up and go to church. I get ready and go to have coffee. I run into Giorgio and he tried to pay my tab, but I had already done so. A quiet morning organizing artifacts, then we had some risotto for lunch. I relaxed till about three and caught up on the journal. Some rain clouds are rolling in. It begins to drizzle. I decided to stay close by San Gemini this afternoon and not make too long an excursion since I was still spent from Rome on Saturday. I drove up to Cesi and turned to make the ascent up to St. Erasmo again. Only stalled out the car once. On the road I saw a guy walking with a shotgun; I hope he was only hunting. I stopped at the Umbrian ruins again. I wanted to hike over to the medieval fortification, but the weather was too uncertain. These ruins are one of my favorite places I’ve seen here. I went on up the mountain today. The road turns to gravel. It took a while but the climb was worth it. The road up is lined with chestnut trees and is really pretty. What’s different is that the forests have little undergrowth, making hiking and camping easier. I saw a few tents along the way. At the top, above the tree line, is a small parking area, so I’m hoping it’s open to the public. Also open to grazing, for there was a shepherd (in a Nissan truck) with his sheep dog and some sheep off in the distance. That really throws a wrench in pastoral poetry. It was 15 Celsius on the mountain and it felt great. Drove back down and turned to go to Aqua Sparta, perched on the mountainside opposite San Gemini. I found the olive farm again, but it’s closed. It seems like things here are closed a lot.
When I got back to town, we had dinner with Max and Polly. I tried a veal stew served “subito” since I didn’t want a pasta dish first. Hopefully it is not “bruta figura” to skip the pasta. The stew was very good. I think Italy is actually named after veal, “vitela,” the ancient and modern word for the same. There was also a small concert in town that night at the cloister of a man who is the conservator for a certain artist’s work. A “duo flauta e arpa” – two girls from Perugia. They were very good and very pretty. I was sure to tell them “buonissima” afterwards. They also played a power point of pictures from Switzerland during the music. Dr. W. and I thought that “Greensleeves” however evoked more Englishness than Swissness. (Is “Swissness” a word???) Half the village was there. We were talking to guy outside who, when he found out I was American, said that I was lucky to have been born there. I never caught the “per che.” He was an older guy and said it in all seriousness. I wonder what he meant. Anyhow, a good concert. Intriguing was this plaque also that had been unearthed in the garden behind the cloister. The plaque mentioned “leones” and other things that indicate that there may be a Mithraic connection – I guess they will excavate this guy’s garden now. Afterwards, we went down to the main piazza to hang out a while. They started talking about the garbage problem in Europe and hauling it to Hungary and then about small Icelandic horses. I was really proud of myself that I knew what was going on in the conversation.
July 28, 2008 – Day Seven in Italy: Monday
What to do today? Had some of this strangely good chocolate cereal, coffee, and got ready. Then to the Bar Centrale for more coffee. I wanted to check my e-mail, but Polly was at the computer. So I try and read a little of the Umbria newspaper instead. I’m really wearing down from this busy week. It has been nearly an overload of sights and sounds and tastes and smells and even touches. I touched baby Romulus’ toes in the Capitoline Museum. I'm pretty sure I’d have been in trouble had I been seen. I hatch a plan to head up to Lake Bolsena. I arrive by the back way from Orvieto. It’s long but scenic. A pretty lake almost perfectly circular formed in a volcanic crater. It has a nice beach, and the road going down to the lake is lined with the largest sycamore trees I have ever seen. I walked around a while and explored and then bought some grapes. I sat there at lunch deciding what to do the rest of the day.
Tarquinia is so close. After a drive through the backcountry of Lazio, I arrive. Never thought I’d be dodging tractors on the roads in Italy like I do at home. The main thing I wanted to see, the Etruscan Necropolis, was closed, “tutti lunedi.” I just about lost it. I was truly outdone and upset. I just went down to the beach at Tarquinia and walked around a while. The Mediterranean was as blue as it looks in the pictures. Lots of bronzed Italian women. I left Tarquinia without noticing I was low on gas. I had to turn back around and go back into town. I’d have never made it to Viterbo on 1/8 tank of “benzina senza piombo.” I drove by some sort of swimming pool out in a field – never figured out what this was, but there were a good many people there; maybe it was a heated or cold spring. On the way back, I made great time by staying in the left lane with the Alfas and Bimmers. Went up to the monastery when I returned and organized some artifacts and then went to check my e-mail. I had an aperitif with Dr. W. and met Niko, a Greek fellow there teaching some of the students about art. We had dinner at the monastery, pasta with peas, salad, bread, etc. I go back and start to pack, for I fly out on Tuesday. I’ve been kind of sad today. It’s always like that near the end of anything that’s been fun, an adventure, a good group dynamic, etc. I relaxed a while and watched Italian TV. Apparently bare breasts are no problem here. They probably got a good laugh out of how we made such a big deal over Janet Jackson at the Super Bowl a few years back. This is a cool country, and I hate to leave it. I know there are bad people and good people here just like anywhere else, but I have really enjoyed my time here. I guess I’m ready to go home. Back to pine trees and gnats, Hee-Haw hell. I grew to enjoy this place quickly, even with having a wreck in Terni and the high prices for everything. I think too about how if I didn’t have things to worry about at home that I can’t now leave behind how I might one day make another place my home. What is home anyway? My home is home just because I’ve never lived anywhere else and there’s too much obligation there.
July 29, 2008 – Departure: the day from hell.
I got up at 5:30 and made some coffee. Got everything packed and Dr. W. saw me off from San Gemini around 6:30. The traffic was light on the way down to the autostrada. Got to Orte with no problems and got my toll tickets. I hung in there with the Mercedes and BMWs today to hit Rome early. I got into traffic as I approached the loop around the city. I made a pit stop at the Autogrill and picked up an Italian GQ and another magazine to read on the plane. There just happened to be an article in GQ about Alberto Tomba. I remember pulling for him in the 1988 Olympics at Calgary. He embodies that Italian sprezzatura. I finally get onto the right road to head towards the airport, to Civitavecchia – Fiumicino. When I turned the car in, the guy tried to charge me for losing the tag although it was in the back seat. I think he took it off, but I had to get the receipt and go, to not miss the plane. Terminal 5 was where I needed to be. I’m still sad about leaving, but I think I may be glad to get home in a way. I found the shuttle to the terminal. I’m not so sure that Leonardo Da Vinci would really approve of this airport named after him. It’s not really artistic at all. When the shuttle gets to the terminal, there are several carabinieri wielding submachine guns outside. Even they are sharp dressers. Made it inside and went through the multiple check points. At the baggage check, I start hearing some English again. I talked to some Americans that had been all up and down the Italian peninsula and to a wedding in Tuscany. I think a wedding up at St. Erasmo would be nice too. Finally to the departure gate. Apparently lots of people were headed to the U.S. The flight was overbooked. I guess they knew their euros would go further in the U.S., considering the dollar’s plight. The young Italian couple is ahead of me. Some Romanians too. A Spanish couple – the guy has a cool mustache like a character that ought to be in Don Quixote.
We all get on the plane. I switched seats with a newly married Italian couple who wanted to sit beside each other. I finally ended up after switching again at the front of coach right by the TV. Now I’m sitting by a Romanian who speaks perfect English. Behind me, there is an Italian guy who breaks out his English books to study on the plane. Poor dude – we native speakers can’t even get English sometimes. We take off and Nim’s Island starts. Then Drillbit Taylor. After two movies, we’re just over Ireland. Trapped in the flying aluminum can again for 9 hours. I get up. I sit down. The Romanian is headed to NYC for vacation. I hope he has a good time. He’s travelling with a Norwegian. I try to sleep. Finally, 2:45 to go. Over Newfoundland. Then New England. Long Island finally. We touch down at JFK airport. The passage through security is a nightmare. The passport checker seemed to drop my boarding passes I had stuck in my passport with pleasure. They decide to randomly search my luggage. Maybe I look suspicious. They lady checks it thoroughly and questions me to death. The rocks I picked up – they’re just rocks I say, free souvenirs. This is a strange new airport to me and not that nice. My cell phone won’t work. I went to a pay phone and couldn’t get anybody on the phone at home or otherwise. Just to be cautious, I called my credit card and placed a block/dispute on the rental car charge so I can make sure I am not getting overcharged. At this point, I’m mad, sad, pissed off, stressed out, tired, lost-feeling, and really want to cry a little. I saw a Chili’s and make the decision to have some drinks and food. Ah, much better now. A guy at the bar from Mississippi started telling me about his three friends who teach English. They all want to be writers, but he said one of them really isn’t so good.
The flight on to Atlanta is really uneventful. They did have the little TVs on the seatbacks for each passenger, so that was nice. I think the plane taxied for an hour though. I watch the Transporter II. Atlanta at last. The only thing is is that it’s 11:00 P.M.; my flight on back to Albany doesn’t leave until 9:20 A.M. – Wednesday. I have to pick up my bag again. Then I’ll have to recheck it again tomorrow. The shoulder strap breaks. I just go sit outside the front of the airport a while. Nothing to do but endure the night. At 2:00 A.M. I made a pillow out of towel and slept on a stone bench for a few hours. The “Breakfast at Tiffany’s” song is my wake up call. The night cleaning crew also drives around these zamboni looking things that sweep the floors – very loud. I actually feel some better on waking. I checked my bag around 5:00, got my boarding pass, and went back through security. Then to concourse C. I took the tram this time. I’m too tired to walk. The restaurants open at 5:30. Coffee. I wander around the concourse and do one thing and another. I randomly think that now that I’ve left Italy, all the Italian I heard that’s still reeling in my head is sticking a little. 225 = “due cento vinte cinque.” This lady from Kentucky is talking about cosmetology school at the gate.
Finally touch down in Albany. I realize it is so flat here and so hot. I think I’m having reverse culture shock. Everything seems strange. Jay picks me up and we go to lunch. It was neat though how the plane flew in over the city. A full view, in by the mall, over downtown, and finally to the airport. It’s a weird feeling I have. Is this where I’m from?
I’ll need a few days to decompress. I get home and the whole house looks so strange. I feel like I’ve been gone a lot longer than a week. I’m so glad I went, and I did enjoy it. I’m ready to go back. It was expensive, but worth it, definitely. I realized toward the end of the week I went whole days without even thinking about home. I needed that. Now I’ve got to face the music of reality again. But I’ve got all my memories to sustain me. My cup runneth over.
