OReilly

The drive to Spello

This intrepid explorer set out for Spello, taking the N.79 toward Todi, and hoping for a miracle to locate an unnamed road, on the regional map, toward the hamlet of Bastardo and then onward to Spello.

I found the road to Todi quite quickly, but was disappointed to join a convoy of three local buses and several cars. Eventually, I tired of staring up the rectum of diesel extruding bus and pulled over to let the traffic pass. The N.79 twists and turns like the small intestine, up and down through the fertile hills. It is a very lovely drive, highly recommended for those of you that are familiar with a manual clutch. I was a little concerned at the narrowness of the road, as it was at least twice as thick on the map as my “unnamed” road from Todi to Bastardo.

I was so tempted to stop at Todi. I had visited once before, several years ago, and thought it absolutely charming, with one of the finest medieval town squares I have seen. If you are in the region, you must visit.

Miraculously, I did find my “unnamed” road to Bastardo, but hesitated for a few moments considering the alternatives. You see, it was not really a road, more of a goat track with tarmacadem strewn over it. I perused my map and discovered that the alternative routes to Spello would have meant taking a very circuitous route. What the hell, I thought, how bad could it be? I should have learned by now that when I utter those words I challenge the “Car Furies”; those wicked demons, my constant traveling companions, who insist on turning my driving weekends in Europe into waking nightmares.

For the first 20 minutes, I drove through authentic rural Umbria and I felt I had made the right choice, as I was close to the farms and houses one usually only glimpses from the motorway. I rarely managed to get out of second gear, because of the potholes, but I was happy, because I was surrounded by bucolic scenery and absolute tranquility. Discovering the sign for the hamlet of San Damiano, I was assured I was on the correct road. S. Damiano must have been a very minor saint, as this hamlet is so tiny that it should be classified as a “rasherlet” and its most distinguishing feature was the sign itself. The road sign for Bavagna gave me hope of a better road, but I was soon disappointed.

5 minutes out of San Damiano, the tarmacadem ended abruptly and ahead of me stretched a ribbon of sparkling white sand. Only a few minutes before I was hoping to escape the pot-holed tarmacadem and now I was faced with a worse alternative: NO tarmacadem, just potholed sand dunes; miles of it, with no end in sight! I wondered if I had happened upon a fairy road, a road that might lead to the Italian equivalent of “Brigadoon”? (Explanation: I was listening to a book on tape at the time: “Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell”, about magic and fairies and an altered reality/universe and am known to be highly impressionable). Well I hate retracing my steps, and am always ready for an adventure, so I eased my sexy Cabriolet forward, at 10 KM/hour, over the sparkling white sand into terrain that was definitely 4-wheel drive territory. 15 minutes of tense driving later, I made it to the N-316. I would NOT recommend this route to anyone!

Regards Ger

wlzmatilida

Ger,

I feel like I was right in the car with you!

Spent a week in Umbria a few years ago, and have intimate knowledge with FastBastardus as they tried to crawl up my bumper. I'd be sailing along, speeding merrily away, glancing in the rear view mirror, able to see forever - no one there.

Glance #4 or 5, casually alighting eyes on mirror -- EEEKKKK.....there's a Mercedes / BMW / fill in car type on my butt! Mind you, anyone who knows how I drive at home cannot believe that anyone could want to go FASTER (much less sneak up on me).

Ditto your comment about signs being posted warning tourists to bring their own donkey. I once had to fold the side mirrors in to make it through a street! I'll be driving in Chianti in the Fall, so I'm sure the same thing will happen!

Melodie

Kavey

Ger, if you keep writing like this you know I'll be destined to spend the rest of my life following in your foot steps, or in this case, accelerator pad presses...

maitaitom

"I would NOT recommend this route to anyone!"

Ger, since I am driving from Fiumicino to Spello in September, I appreciate the info. I think I'll get a more detailed map and I have informed my navigators to be on their toes.

How did you like Palazzo Bocci?

OReilly

Hi there:

Sorry this is taking so long, but I am up to my eyes with work, which makes my trips possible, so I can’t complain

Kavey: I’ll be in London next month, I’ll keep you posted re the dates.

Maitaitom: The road to Todi was fine, but my “off-road” experience was not one I would want to repeat. Do you intend to visit Orvieto on the way to Spello? It is not the most direct route, but it’s a great way to spend the first day. I’ll post later about the Hotel Bocci: I think you will be pleased with it!

Regards Ger

OReilly

Spello and the Hotel

I reached Spello in the late afternoon and my heart lifted with my first sight of its ancient buildings, radiating a pinkish glow in the late afternoon sun. Then I got this gut-wrenching feeling, knowing that, once again, I had to negotiate another hill town. Here I go again. I always have this strong desire to stay in charming establishments in remote hill towns and, although my driving skills are generally equal to the task of negotiating the narrow, winding, uphill streets, my stupidity factor always checks in and I end up getting myself into situations that even a stupid person would be ashamed of.

I reviewed the town map before entering and found exactly where the hotel was situation, but somehow missed it. I decided to exit the town and reenter, but stupidly followed a local driver down a steep, narrow cobbled laneway, only about a couple of feet wider than my car. I got to the end of the laneway and discovered I would have to turn the car on a hairpin bend of about 15 degrees to continue. It was impossible! As I sat there, with a wave of panic coursing through my veins, the malevolent “Car Furies” had obviously decided I had been punished enough for my sins and sent me an angel to assist me. This kind local man, seeing my difficulty, told me to be calm and guided me through a 25 point turn to get the car around the hairpin bend. Without his help, I would not have been able to move the car at all; at one point he actually had to push the car back, as the front tires were not making traction with the road. I thanked him profusely, in Italian and English, and was sure that I would be a figure of ridicule in his local bar tonight: The idiot tourist who got herself stuck in a laneway.

I was not trying that again, so I parked the car outside the town, in the main car-park, removed my very heavy carry-on wheelie, which contained my notebook computer, and started up the steep hill to the town. It was hard going! Back when I was in school, when the nuns of the Loreto overheard us declare that we were “sweating” after a basketball game, they admonished us for using such vulgar language. Mother Dolarosa informed us that pigs sweat, men perspire and ladies glow. Well I was glowing like a pig from exertion when I entered the hotel. What a sight I must have been, in crumpled beige linen, red-faced as a beacon. I would have been ashamed to enter a four-star establishment, but the fact that I had the confidence of head-to-toe designer labels!

maitaitom

"Do you intend to visit Orvieto on the way to Spello?"

No, we're going straight to Spello the first day. We are going to see Orvieto from our base in San Quirico d'Orcia later in the trip.

I am emailing the couple traveling with my wife and me. They'll get a kick out of your experience trying to enter Spello. The four of us have encountered many of those type dramas before. Looking forward to hearing more and keep that glow.

OReilly

Hotel Palazzo Bocci

http://www.palazzobocci.com/en/

I chose this hotel based on recommendations from “buongiorno” and other posters on this site. All other sources (Fodors, Tripadvisor and others) had many good reviews. It is located right in the centre of Spello and is an excellent base from which to explore that part of Umbria. Just a few days before leaving, my business plans were rearranged and it looked as if I might not be able to travel. The web-site clearly stated that cancellation within 7 days of travel meant I would forfeit the entire amount for a two-night stay. I sent a note to the hotel, explained the situation and asked them how much they would charge, with a vague hope they might just charge me for the first night. Their answer would be reason enough alone for me to recommend this hotel. I received a lovely note informing me that they understood the problem and would charge me nothing at all and would keep the room available for me for a few more days in case I could come.

I had booked a double for single occupancy (120 Euros) and on check-in discovered that the room had a shower, but no bath. I told the very kind receptionist that I would prefer a bath, if possible. She rearranged some bookings and showed me up to a very large triple room (a double bed and a single), with large bathroom and a small view over the valley. The décor in the room was 70’s-80’s suburban, a bit dull and dark, not to my taste, but it was spotlessly clean and spacious, comfortable bed and good-quality linen, so I was very pleased. The bathroom was large, with a nice deep tub and a marble counter-top where I could spread out my various face potions and make-up (a VERY important aspect for some women). The hairdryer (for Budman ) was the ubiquitous low-powered, wall-mounted unit that offers nothing other than a soft, warm breeze. The most exciting feature of the room was the “trompe d'oiel” ceiling; very well executed.

The service throughout my stay was extremely friendly and kind and I highly recommend this establishment.

The receptionist told me how to get the car into the car-park, just opposite the hotel and provided me with a license to park over-night. I dragged myself back down the hill to the car and this time parked outside the hotel, where the porter was waiting to take my luggage to my room, and drove into the car park.

OReilly

La Molina

I soaked in the bath for a while and, had I not been so hungry, would have gladly fallen into bed. I had a reservation at “La Molina”, the hotel’s restaurant, just opposite.

The restaurant was full of Italians and noisy; a convention of some sort, I think. Despite that, the service was excellent; I not only had my own "almost-English-speaking" waiter dancing attendance upon me, the head waiter also insisted on looking after me.

The menu was in Italian, not that that is so important, as we are all familiar with most Italian dishes, but I was so hungry I wanted MEAT and I don’t know the Italian terms for various types of meat.

I ordered the pasta with truffles to start, but it was off , so my waiter recommended the pasta with baby asparagus. It was very good, but a little medicinal for my taste. There was confusion over the main course; perhaps I had pointed to the wrong dish, perhaps I got someone else’s order. The waiter told me that the dish I pointed to was pork, cooked on the open spit, and I love pork, but what arrived looked nothing like pork.

I was presented with three black turds that looked very unappetizing indeed! I cut into one of the turds and discovered, to my horror, that it was LIVER. I HATE liver, unless it is the youngest, finest and most delicate provimi liver, thinly sliced and lightly pan-fried in olive oil. The head-waiter rushed over and reminded me that I had forgotten to order a vegetable dish. As I was still struggling with what to do with this abomination before me, I asked him to choose a vegetable dish for me. A few minutes later, a plate of spinach arrived. I hate spinach almost as much as I hate liver. Liver and spinach: This is what my Mammy used to feed me on a Tuesday, and would not let me leave the table until I had cleared my plate. Back then, I had a secret weapon, my dog, who would hide under the table until she had left, and I would then wrap the spinach (or cabbage, another favorite of my Mammy) around the liver and feed it to him.

I looked under the table, and, finding no dog, decided I had to make the best of it. The spinach dish was actually quite good and I managed to eat enough of the liver to satisfy my waiters, who checked on me every few minutes, to make sure I was eating my liver and spinach, just like my Mammy used to do.

Luckily, I had ordered a glass of red wine and they had provided a whole bottle, assuring me they would only charge me for what I drank. It was a very good local wine, and I drank more than I planned, to make the liver and spinach palatable. I declined desert and coffee, having exhausted the calorie intake for the evening on the half-bottle of wine I consumed. Total bill was about 35 Euros. I left a decent tip, because the service was so charming and delightful, and my waiter was effusive in his thanks.

Thank the gods that the hotel was just a short totter across the street; extreme tiredness, half a bottle of wine, sling-back shoes and cobbled streets would have made a longer journey very unpleasant.


Next: Assisi

Kavey

Oh gawd, not the dreaded liver AND spinach too! You must have wondered what you'd done to deserve both of those in one sitting. Shame I wasn't there as they are two of my favourite things! Let me know your dates, it will be nice to catch up...

Re that little road that turned into a path - we did similar back in 1999 during our first trip to the Loire. I was navigating and we'd been generally enjoying driving the smaller roads and making our way leisurely to Villandry. I spotted a road that headed right to the centre of Villandry and off we set, enjoying wonderful views of a river running alongside. Until the road turned into a cobbled path more suitable to donkeys than cars. And we were driving our old 2 wheel drive Vauxhall back then! I seriously thought the road might fade out into a field (as has happened to be once before in the UK when I was confronted by very grumpy military men telling me to get the heck out of their military training grounds) but luckily it ended up becoming a road again and did indeed lead us to the beautiful town where we enjoyed a walk around the famous gardens. A little more excitement than we needed though, especially as we'd have been in a real jam if we'd have gotten stuck as no one passed us during the entire trip along this "road"!

maitaitom

Ger, you're dinner story regarding your main course and too much wine reminds me of what I want put on my tombstone.

"It's better to be a good liver than to have one."

maitaitom

Hi Ger,

It is about a month until I make the drive from Fiumicino to Spello. Any helpful hints on directions (especially getting to the correct parking lot near Palazzo Bocci) would be more than appreciated. Many thanks.

maitaitom

ttt in case you were on another long weekend.