Today I'm in Terni. The hotel is a comfortable one in the ugly industrial suburbs of the city and at first I thought I'd made a mistake, especially as the promised computer in the room turned out to be a slow, strange arrangement that couldn't deal with Myspace technology - no bulletins, no editing blogs or other fancy stuff. The view from the hotel does include the mountains, beyond the motorway bridges, but you wouldn't venture out on foot....
But now that I've spent a day here I've changed my mind - as I so often do once I settle in. I first parked in a street off the centre, and walked around a quiet business area. I found the usual Chiesa San Francesco,
which was in its own quiet piazza, and a street market selling very pretty things. I shall have to jettison some of the unnecessary clothes I threw into my suitcase at the last moment, to fit in the lovely shells I bought so cheaply. The onyx earrings are much easier to deal with, of course.
The man selling the shells flattered me by asking if I was Russian - for some reason I'm irritated when Italians instantly spot that I'm English, even before I open my mouth. But then, this is the Adriatic coast, not Sorrento. It could have been my new flat boots (bought cheaply at the station in Florence after the cobblestones had ruined the heels on my high-heeled ones). They do make me look as if I'm hoping someone will play a balaleika. I took a photo of this man as he blew a loud trumpet noise on a conch shell. He asked me if it was a video with sound and I rather wished it had been.
Next I looked for the way out of the city to the Falls of Marmore. This turned out to be much easier than I expected. I drove through the civic centre, which is graciously laid out and backed by the beautiful mountains that surround Terni. Then it was easy to follow the signs up to the mountainside where the highest waterfall in Italy tumbles and roars down in at least five stages, raising a huge cloud of spray that soaks everything around it. It's been made part of a hydroelectric scheme but it's also a lucrative tourist attraction, with 5-euro tickets enabling visitors to walk very close to the lowest torrent, and of course a thriving minimarket of souvenir stalls and cafes.
As tourist attractions go I rate it pretty highly. It's the most stunning sight. The water pouring endlessly down, round and over the rocks to the fast stream at the bottom - no man-made attraction could rival that. I sat in the cafe at the bottom and as usual got my sketch book out to record my version. Of course I took dozens of photos as well. But there's something about drawing a place that gives me such satisfaction afterwards, however inadequate the finished work may be. I had to work fast on this one, and managed to cover an A3 sheet with marks in pen and ink that will be the basis for another work I expect.
The sun came out in Terni and it was really warm for the first time this week. I have to leave tomorrow, to go to Arezzo, but I think I'll be back.
I stopped in Terni on my way out, to withdraw some cash and check the route to my next hotel, in Arrezzo. I decided to stop in Orvieto which is on the way. Even though it's Sunday, the internet point I used last night is open and the Indian owners are friendly and helpful. It's right near the bus station, where there's free parking all week, too.
Last night I got completely lost, trying to find my way back to my hotel just off the E45 and only a mile from the centre of Terni. It's a skyscraper block and I could see it all the time but couldn't get near the entrance - I was always on the wrong side of the dual carriageway! Just like Alice Through the Looking Glass, as my life often seems to be! I really must invest in a SatNav next time I drive in Europe.
Last night I had the best night's sleep I've had since leaving England. The double-glazing worked perfectly and I think the room next door was empty. So I'm in very good spirits, driving off to find the A1/E35 to Arezzo via Orvieto.
13th April 2008
I've arrived in Arezzo, the birthplace of Michelangelo. I don't know what he'd make of it now. Like all the towns with evocative names that I've visited this week, it's spread and developed ugly industrial zones like pustules round the core of the historic centre that has been allowed to survive to feed the tourist trade. I know that sounds harsh, but as I'm doing this trip on a budget while trying to be as comfortable as possible I find I've booked hotels on the ring roads and in the trading estates that keep Italy afloat - they are great inside but the environment outside is a forest of concrete and giant advertising signs.
I've walked into the centre of Arezzo tonight - "Only a kilometre" said the nice receptionist as I left. But a kilometre is easily far enough for me to get lost in, and I must have walked about two miles, wishing I'd brought the car. I've promised myself a taxi back to the hotel and as I'm right by the railway station now, that should be easy to arrange.
But back to my day.... Orvieto turned out to be the exception to the rule I've set out above. Like Arezzo, it's just off the A1, which runs between Rome and Florence, but being high on a hill it's escaped the ravages of modern life, unless you count being turned into the most chic and pretty tourist town I've seen so far as a ravage.
I found myself missing Terni and its soft green mountains almost as soon as I set off. The road ran through gradually lower land until the attractive lumpy mounds of Umbria changed gradually to Latzio, where the uplands were set well away from the road, just in sight across a wide plain. There are clay and I suppose marble works along the way, and the trees are dusted white in some places.
The forms of the landscape along the autostrada remind me of the various areas of North Devon that I know - except that you don't get all those lovely narrow conical cypress trees in England. The delicate greens of the deciduous trees here are lovely at the moment, too. And the buildings are warm cream and yellows and peach colours.
At Orvieto I first went up the Funicular from the station, thinking that this was the only way up to the old town. Once I reached the top I realised I'd better take the car up because I was going to need more parking time than I'd calculated for when I left the car outside the station.
Having gone back for the car I drove up the hill past the strong mediaeval walls that barricade the place from all invaders - or did in the Middle Ages, before we were all invited in. It was a very good choice of citadel - I can imagine any army that laid seige to it getting a good helping of boiling oil and arrows on its head from the battlements.
Now, however, Orvieto is a very charming town, full of flowers and expensive stylish shops. Plenty of souvenir shops too, but tasteful ones.
The shops were closed as it's Sunday but I found a good bookshop open and bought a guide book to read later. I'd parked outside the Chiesa S. Domenico, rather an austere church but with a faded little fresco above the main entrance. It is faced in part with the dark and light marble patterns that are a feature of Tuscan churches, it seems. From there I walked towards the Duomo, discovering other churches, towers and beautiful ornate doorways on the way.
The Duomo itself, though, was as much of a surprise as Florence's cathedral. It has a gigantic gothic facade, which took 300 years to complete, was started in 1290. Several architects were involved, therefore, and the building had safety problems - the transepts were in danger of collapsing from the start because of inadequate foundations, I read in my guidebook. The whole facade is a riot of decoration in carving, fresco and mosaic. The barley-sugar twisted pillars are there, with inlays of mirrored and coloured mosaic, and there are wonderful panels of relief, depicting sacred scenes, along the facade. Behind the facade the nave and transepts are faced with stripes of dark and light marble.
Inside, there are beautiful frescoes and carvings, free-standing figures and a lovely organ that I tried hard to photograph. The huge rose window and other stained glass is also very lovely from inside. I spent a long time trying to take my own photos of the interior, laying my camera flat on the floor and propping it up on things, but I really needed my tripod.
Almost everyone in the streets seemed to be American or otherwise English-speaking. I got a lady from Australia to take my photo in front of the facade of the cathedral but I was wearing my rather strange blue Russian looking tunic and jeans that were a little tighter than was flattering so my vanity won't let me post it here....
I went into the little Museum of Etruscan Archaelogy, too, to look at the archaic smiles on the faces of the statues and the delicate depictions of stories about conversations and flying horses on the black and yellow pottery.
The sun was coming and going and by now it was about 4pm and getting cooler. I got back on the road and realised I was going to have to get some petrol before I went on to the motorway again.
Now, you learn something every day and today I learned that you can't trust automated petrol stations in Italy any more than you can in England. All the gas stations seemed to be closed (it is Sunday) so I took the risk. The thing rejected my Visa card, my Mastercard, and demanded cash. I fed it 20 euros and it clammed up. No assistenze button, no cancel button and no petrol. I gave up, wrote 20 euros off to experience and drove on. Just round the corner was an open and friendly manned Shell station where I filled up. So there was a relatively happy ending to that story...
No comments:
Post a Comment