Under the Umbrian Rain (Perugia to Assisi)

The trip from Perugia to Assisi on June 6 was the most adventure-filled day of the entire bike tour - and all the more so, due to the element of surprise.

The previous evening, during the city tour of Perugia, we went to a patio overlooking the countryside, and our guide pointed out Assisi - our the next day's destination. It was so near, we could almost grasp it! Only 20 km away! It would be a relaxing, easy journey, so the guides gave us a "late start" day (we'd get on the bikes at 9:30 a.m.) ... and went out clubbing after dinner.

So after a sleepless night (for me, this was because my hotel room, immediately over Reception and adjacent to the uncarpeted open internal staircase, doubled as a sound box, not only amplifying street sounds and lobby sounds but also giving me a continuous and full understanding of the whereabouts of the guests in the room above mine), we gathered for our relaxing, easy journey to Assisi.

Our bleary-eyed guide led us down the streets toward the city gates. Unfortunately, we lost one-third of the group en route and people had to go back up the hill to find them. We waited at Via della Viola for a group that - coincidentally - included a young woman named Viola.


Once everyone was reunited (hooray!) we proceeded to the gate.

Victoria (our guide) led us triumphantly out of the gate and took an immediate left up a steep street that hugged the city walls. She had to stop almost immediately, however, because of a rather inconvenient building blocking the way. She called Jacob (the van driver) for directions, then led us back through the city gates, up the hill, up some stairs to our right, and then down around again to a different city gate. We were a little bit reluctant to follow her down another hill, knowing we might have to walk back up it again.

But this time the direction was fine, and we begain coasting down a winding hill outside of the city. We stopped at an intersection toward the bottom of the hill. There were two choices -- one involved merging onto a highway, while the other involved more of a local street system. So we merged on to the highway.

After a few minutes, the guide called us to a halt. We then descended the median to the local streets. The men took charge of making sure the bikes and riders made it through and down the slope successfully (thanks, guys!).


We milled around for a bit.

Then we started up on the local road parallel to the highway -- but retraced our steps by heading exactly the opposite direction. We made our way to some farm areas, and went into the woods along a stream. This was very nice, except that we were going too slowly so it was difficult to make it the small inclines. Eventually, I made it to the front of the crowd. (The guide, as usual, was leading from the middle.) After vacillating between the low road (by the stream) and the high road (by the fields) multiple times, we stuck to the low road. This led us to the end of the fields, and to a small bridge. There was only one path at the base of the bridge. It led over the bridge. So we crossed over and waited. My companions urged me to go on ahead, so I did. Finally, I was flying! It was a short but glorious ride to the end of the path, no intersections or doubts. I got to the end of the path, and waited. And waited. It was strange how long I was waiting. I thought about calling Victoria to find out what was going on, but figured they couldn't be too far behind. I left my bike there at the end, and began walking back to see if there was some crisis. I met two of my fellow cyclists (Rodney and Mr. H) who were coming to find out what had happened to me. It turns out the group had gone to far (and of course I had gone even farther) and we all had to turn back. So we zipped back to the group, people pumped up their tires and drank water, then we went back. We went all the way back across the bridge. Then, we ran roughshod over the fields on the outside of the trees, until we found a path heading away from the trees and stream. We followed that path and never got lost again. (As PDQ Bach wrote in his immortal aria in The Stoned Guest, his reknowned half-act opera in two parts: "Happy ending! Happy ending!")

Here is a small video clip showing a panorama of the countryside en route to Assisi.

More of the countryside. Note the gathering clouds. This is the one day we actually had a little rain.

The "old town" of Assisi (where tourists and pilgrims flock, but where, according to our guide, no locals live ... they come only to make money from the stranieri) is nestled up on a hill. [For a contrary view, provided by someone whose cousin lives in Assisi, see the comments to this post.] In this picture, Assisi is mostly a grey or white blur.



As we approached, the town came more into view, in an almost magical way....
We stopped at a church below the hotel. We didn't go in to this particular church, but had some water under the watchful gaze of the angels.



I like the attitude, with the crossed arms.

In the old town of Assisi, we took a tour of the basilica. It's actually two (or more?) churches on top of each other. Here is a picture of one of the stranieri perched on the wall by the upper church. Dang furriners!