Orvieto

Hello Family and Friends!
The weather has been unstable here the last few days. Beautiful sunshine over the Bay of Naples one moment, and then dark, foreboding clouds the next. Then comes a brief downpour and it's over once again! Of course, I had my daily gaze at Vesuvius, and then went upstairs for our final breakfast with Rosa.
After breakfast, we packed up and walked down the street to Luciano's, an outdoor cafe with small round tables for our last caffe, on Corso Vittorio Emmanuele Street (which runs past Casa Chiara).
Ron ordered a croissant filled with apple. He commented that we must have walked around 20km yesterday. I mention that I'm baffled I don't seem to be losing weight these days.
Ron exclaimed, "Oh I think you will." "Will what?" I say. "Will lose weight!" Ron said. "Will lose weight? You mean you don't think I have?" He quickly back peddles and said he thought I had lost weight. Okay, then...
Suddenly, there was an instant downpour again. A lady appeared in the doorway and ushered us inside. We stood in the entrance, and soon the waitress, along with a man in a purple apron, dashed outside, picked up our table and together carried it to a small corner of the caffe. The cups and dishes stayed intact on top. We were humbled by such a display of kindness!
One funny thing we've noticed, is that the service staff frequently and loudly call around the establishment to each other, even as they are taking your order! Back at home, we would just frown on this, but here it's rather entertaining and that's just the way it is.
We went back to Casa Chiara to collect our bags. I stood on the balcony for one last look at one of the most magnicent view I have ever seen - Mt. Vesuvius, The Bay of Naples, and the Isle of Capri. I heard a lady scolding someone loudly off in the distance. Rosa called a cab for us, kissed us good bye (Arrivederci), and waved us off. I saw that she tucked a small jar of homemade lemon marmalade into my bag.
The driver took us to the airport where our little car awaited us at Europcar. It cost 23 euro to get there a flat rate -(regulated by the government. Thank goodness.
Our driver sped along the busy, narrow roads, twisting and turning around the bends. All was well, until it became apparent the driver had no idea where the car rental agency was. He sped along narrow streets, navigating carefully past oncoming vehicles. It beats me how any side mirrors on these tiny cars actually make it through a day. Our driver screeched to a stop eight different times to make inquiries. After arriving at a dead end, he backed up, turned another way, and finally found the agency.
We got our silver Fiat Punto without too much ado. Only one suitcase fit in the trunk, the other had to go in the backseat. After a brief car inspection, we jumped in and drove out of the parking lot to continue on our adventure. We had a 310 km drive ahead of us to Orvieto. Ron ordered, "Watch for a sign that says Rome or Florence"!
We got onto the A-1 highway. The speed limit was posted at 100 km/hr, but a few rebels tore past us at around 150 km/hr. There were nice stopping areas along the A-1 called 'Autogrill' which seemed to occur at least every 33 kms. They are gas stations, as well as large stores with fresh food, snacks, coffee, wine, toys, magazines, etc. We walked over to the coffee bar and ordered caffe Americano. It came the same way each time we ordered it, - 30 mls or so of Espresso, a side of steamed water and a side of steamed milk - and always in a little cup with a saucer and a little spoon on the side. You just don't see the 500 mls of coffee in a to-go paper cup here. And people never drink coffee while driving. Here,for the most part, you stand at a counter, enjoy your coffee, and then leave.
It's chilly and cloudy today. It was a beautiful drive, very hilly and lush. We saw snow capped mountains in the northeast. We passed one hilltop village after another. On the other side of the highway, we saw black smoke billowing into the air. As we drove by, we saw the engine engulfed in orange flames.
We're soon to arrive in Orvieto. We booked a place in an old monastery called Villa Mercedes, Casa Religiosa Di Ospitalita. Now, I'm wishing we were driving up to a comfy hotel that had an iron. I pictured Padre greeting us in a long robe with a rope tied around his waist and a friar hair-do. I see him ushering us down a dark candle lit hall to very austere quarters, and whispering, "This is your room!" There is Gregorian chanting somewhere. I sigh... But you never know, I told myself...
My thoughts were interrupted by a stop at the toll station. We had to pay 20 euro for the privilege of driving the A1 (Autostrada).
We drove the windy road up to the ancient, walled hill city of Orvieto. Incredibly lush area. We drove right across the piazza in front of the Duomo. This just didn't seem right, and I kept looking over my shoulder expecting the Orvieto Polizia in tiny, blue cars to roar up with red light flashing. Ron found the old monastery,(which is now a B@B, run by priests). We met Father Dino, who escorted us to our room. Once again we found ourselves in a lovely room. No iron, though. The bathroom was so large, it echoed. There was a shower, a bath, and even a bidet. (I know someone who rinsed out her underwear in a bidet once).
Once, we got settled in our room we went for a walk. We walked past the magnificent Duomo. Sunday evening in Orvieto...We were hoping to try out a restaurant called Zeppelin, but it was closed Sundays, so we stopped at an outdoor Caffe called ClanDestin for wine and bruschetta. We listened to "I'm A Believer", playing loudly, and then "Great Balls Of Fire". This isn't really the kind of music you'd like to hear when you come to Italy.
We were surprised at how commercial and touristy Orvieto was. Many shops were selling similar ceramic products, and we saw lots of jewellery and clothing stores.
As we sat enjoying bruschetta and cold Orvieto Classico wine, we noticed an elderly, dark-haired lady walked by pushing her walker unsteadily over the cobblestone. She wore a blue sweatshirt that read, "I Am A Boy".
And yet again, we were reminded of our uni-lingualism. A lady walked up and asked in English, "Can I take this chair?" She took the chair, and reverted immediately to Swedish with her friends. We looked at each other and we're quite sure we have a sign on our foreheads that reads, "English Speaking Only".
We left and saw a large crowd gathered in front of a cathedral. There were several priests in pale blue robes with white caps, elevating a statue of Mary. Ron excitedly said,"Karen! I bet they're going to the Duomo! Should we follow the procession?" I said, "You go ahead, I'll wait here..."
We decided to head back to our room. It was so windy and chilly, and quite unpleasant weather-wise this evening.
We get back to our room and Ron says, "Man - is it ever quiet here - you'd think we were in monastery....