The Giant Oat

April 3

I arrived in Assissi on Friday andpromptly had my first schooling in the ways of men in these parts. The train dropped me in Santa Maria Degli Angeli, which is at the base of the hill on which Assissi finds itself. While waiting for the shuttle to arrive to give me a lift, a suave looking “local” started chatting with me in French. He was young, well dressed, and did not have any luggage with him, but I still thought him a tourist. Anyway, he helped me witha  ticket, adn on the bus we were chatting away. I asked about where the hostel is, and he said he did not know of any hostel. Strange, I thought, since there is one there, adn he said he had been workign in Assissi for seven years. He is from Morocco.

He promised to help me find a place to stay, and boy did he take on the task. Up the hill, with fifty pounds on my back, we raced from one place to the next, adn he really pressured me to take every place we went to. I started to think it was not a great idea for him to know where I was staying. He kept askign me to stop to have coffee or food. I just wanted to get to an info office. He would not let me talk to people… he did it all for me. Finally, after he was way too vague answering my questions about what he did in Assissi, I just told him to bugger off and that I was scheduled to make a call home. When he left me, I was relieved that my suspisions were wrong…until he returned and looking as if the idea had just popped in his head, he whispered to me “would you like to sleep with me tonight.”. I laughed, told him to go away (I had the word “basta” ready to use…Thanks, Ned!), and was rid of him.

After roaming the all too touristy town for a bit, I finally opened the guide book and called the hostel. Apparently, out of town here means five minutes walk down a hill. I made it to Ostella della Pace, a beautiful stone building (though spartan inside), set among olive groves. I soon met Zoe, a fellow Canadian, with whom I shared a nice, though touristy, meal up in Assissi.

April 4

Waking to the sound of birds, which really did not stop the whole time I was in Assissi, Zoe and I, along with our new Mexican hostel-mate Natalia, set out for a day of exploring Assissi. The town is very small, but beautiful. Though still low season, the number of peopel astounded me. So many tourists, so many chachki shops. The streets are pink, narrow, and windy. The gelato is plenteous, adn I had straciatella for lunch. We climbed a hill and took in the views. When we descended for lunch, we shared two pizzas and a LOT of laughter. We sat for three hours almost, eatign two pizzas and waiting for the bill. At one point the manager came over and wrote me a love note, though it was not very nice.

Of all that I saw in Assissi, I will remember teh lower church of the Basilica de San Francesco the most. It is unbelievably painted, with really rich colours.

We made a picnic in teh evening, hung out with two new arrivals, a Bavarian girl walking to Rome and an American guy studying in the Seminary in Rome, and delved deep into religious and philosophical discussion over wine deep into the night. I went to bed exhausted. From the lower bunk, Natalia said to me “you do not seem thirty at all” and suddenly I felt very old.

April 5

This morning was Palm Sunday, and I found myself still in Assissi. The place, despite touristyiness, really is special. The natural surroundings, the olive trees, the melodic birds that do not quit, the trees whose silhouettes do magical things in the morning mist, just make you want to stay forever. I hiked, with my pack, the long way, to San Damiano, the church that is part of the monastery where St. Francis lived. I was there for mass, or part f it since I was late, and i then headed for town. I was hoping to see grand processions or soemthing, but all i saw were lots of people holding olive branches.

I decided at the train on a trip to Florence, since it was the next train to arrive. Now in Florence, Im thinking Sienna may have been a better call. There is something beautiful about Firenze, but it is dark beneath the high buildings, adn it is dirty and feels unfriendly. Perhaps I am just in that frame of mind. I am sure that with my love here with me, it would be different.

With the help of a few nice british ladies, I found a convent to stay at for a mere forty euro. You would think the nuns would charge a little less, but still it is nice and close and secure.

The Duomo is massively impressive from the outside, adn I plan to climb it tomorrow morning. I suspect the rest of Florence will need to wait for another visit. I havent the energy right now. Ive been feeling a little under the weather and just want to get back into the lovely Tuscan and Umbrian country side.

Bologna is next on my city list, though, adn I have high gastronomical expectations. Then Venice, where I will meet up with Zoe. We made a pact to visit the romantic city together, so we wouldnt feel too lonely!!

I am turning golden from the sun, and today I even sported a skirt. No locals are showing any skin yet, but it was at least 20°. Besides, there,s more than a skirt to give me away as a tourist. I,d say the backpack pretty much does it.

And the journey continues… (apologies for the spelling…these keyboards are sticky…)

Tags: Italy

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