Wednesday 3rd
Having spent the night at the Heathrow Hilton the 10.30 flight to Rome
Fiumicino did not require a crack of dawn wake up. So I woke to a
sun-drenched room and had a bright walk to Hatton Cross tube station. BA's
unautomated check-in was slow, security pretty quick and the acquisition
of the Pret Americano and almond croissant even quicker.
At the airport our group, numbering 24, transferred to a coach, which took
us along the Tiber Valley into Umbria. This took about two and
three-quarter hours, with a comfort stop. In case you're wondering why we
flew to Rome when nearer airports are available, it seems that British
Airways not flying to those airports is an important factor for tour
companies. Discoaching in Perugia we checked into our hotel, the Brufani
Palace. It seems a big an swanky dark-wood kinda place, but my room is
handsome, tall and quiet. The telly is too big but the bed is refreshingly
free of cushion. After a rest we met at 7.30 to walk to our first group
dinner at La Taverna 1988. The food wasn't special but the chat was good.
Thursday 4th
After an unspecial breakfast we were issued with our Wispa/Vox devices and
left the hotel at 9.00 to spend a day in Perugia, all in the centre, never
more than a five minute walk from our hotel. The cathedral's Piazza (see
right) has a
special fountain, created by Nicola Pisano and his son Giovanni - yes THAT
Nicola and Giovanni Pisano. Paula's voice, ailing yesterday, had given out
completely overnight. Geoff took over explaining the fountain. In the
Duomo Paula was able to whisper into the Wispa to tell us about the
Barroci Deposition altarpiece. It was special, the Duomo not so
much. The coffee break I spent wandering and buying a tasteful painted
mug. Next up was the church of San Severo and the chapel fresco of the
Holy Trinity, a mixed up collaboration where the work of the pupil,
Raphael, got completed by his master, Perugino. It shows how slow Perugino
was to learn from his own pupil.
Group lunch was at a restaurant called Il Cantinone and it was, you
guessed it, not special. I had my first gelato on the way to our next
visit, though, a perfectly fine pistachio and lemon. First up was the Sala
di Udienza del Collegio del Cambio, a guild meeting hall with more
frescoes by Perugino. Then to the National Gallery of Umbria, in the
Palazzo dei Priori, long closed but last year reopened all reorganised and
bright. We began with the special exhibition devoted to, you guessed it,
Perugino. Then into the main gallery sequence, highlights of which include
a lovely little panel by Duccio, a polyptych by Ottaviano Nelli, an
obscure favourite of mine after a trip to Gubbio a few years back, and a
Piero altarpiece. The discovery of the trip though , for me, was Benedetto
Bonfigli, for being an fascinating mess of varying influences. Here he has
some impressive in situ frescoes, in the Chapel of the Priors, and
two rooms devoted to him, with an Annunciation I fell for (see
right), odd for
having St Luke and his bull included, with the bull swathed in scrolls,
looking like a cat playing with ribbon.
We then broke up and I staggered back to the hotel. I decided I needed
more gelato, and so picked up a magnum-type of thing with an amareno (sour
cherry) gelato filling and a nutty white-chocolate covering, which was
very nice. We had a free evening but I ended up remaining in a heap in my
room watching some new Star Wars cartoons on my tablet and not feeling
hungry enough to be fussed with dressing.
Friday 5th
I have waited so long to see Assisi,
done so many courses, seen so many slides and PowerPoint presentations the
danger of disappointment was very real, but I didn't need to worry. The
coach took about an hour, the Piazza as we approached was blissfully empty
and our allotted friar guide, Father Patrick from Zambia, was warm and
welcoming and more than happy to let Paula cover the art whilst he
provided the spiritual perspective.
We started in the lower church, where Simoni Martini and Pietro and
Ambrogio Lorenzetti reign supreme. A quick circle of St Francis's modest
tomb in the crypt was dutifully done. The controversy over what Giotto
personally painted rages through books and courses, but when you're here
you just soak it all up. I did notice, though, that the plastic guide
boards often said 'Giotto e Giotteschi' which is fair enough. After
Patrick covered the crossing, which is covered by vault frescoes that do
not look like the work of the man himself, we made for the upper church,
with the wall frescoes of the
Life of Saint Francis which very much mostly do. After seeing so
many reproductions the real things seemed oddly big. But great stuff.
Duly spiritually sated we made for our group lunch at La Locanda del
Cardinal. This too was special - the best meal of the trip so far with
some very imaginative veggie courses, all very photographable too. But the
glass floor through which the remains of a roman villa floor could be
admired several feet below was more than a bit unnerving.
Our planned visit to the ancient Roman remains of the Temple of Minerva in
Assisi’s main Piazza got cancelled as the Piazza was full of one those
Italian battle commemorations involving drums and blokes in medieval
costume chucking flags about. We did get a quick and quiet visit to the
Basilica of Santa Chiara though, which has a shrine to St Claire,
Francis's female follower and founder of the ‘Poor Claires’, striking in
its grandeur in comparison to Francis's. The exterior gives good flying
buttress though.
We returned to our hotel crawling with film crews, making a Dutch Netflix
comedy called Dadchelor. After a rest I decided I'd been too slobby last
night and went out for a wander. I got, I confess, totally lost, just
following my nose up picturesque streets and stairs. I ended up going into
a wine shop and pleading for directions in fractured Italian. The guy
understood my predicament if not my Italian and directed me back the way
I'd came, downhill to the Etruscan gate, which I remembered and had
photographed, as it was so pretty. By this stage I'd noticed he also sold
jams so picked up some fig, apple and pear, and jar of apple, cinnamon and
chilli mostarda, before bidding my man a weary farewell. Back in
the centre I found nothing snacky enough, thinking that what I needed was
a branch of Capatoast, the toastie shop I'd found in Ferrara. Then I
turned a corner, and there was... you guessed it. Having scoffed a Vegano
on integrale - hummus, rocket, mushroom and vegan cheese - I headed back,
getting myself an amarena and cocco cono too. What a day!
Saturday 6th
The puzzle of the morning at
breakfast were the five Italian ladies dressed up like Jane Austen
characters. I was tasked with asking and it turned out they were dressed
up 'for Charles', this being Charles III’s Coronation Day. The tour
company had decided to rearrange the day's visits so that our group could
watch the coronation in a meeting room in the hotel, with complimentary
prosecco and nibbles. Sigh! As the actual crowning didn't start until 12
our time, and we weren't all royalists, Geoff gathered a breakaway group
to meet at 9.30 to visit the oratory of San Bernardino next to the church
of San Francesco. The former's façade being a polychrome marble and
sculptural gem. We then returned to the centre where a couple of us had
coffee and a cake. By the famous fountain we'd seen our Jane Austen group
with many dressed up pals promenading, ahead of their ball in our hotel
this afternoon. I then decided to revisit the gallery, but five minutes in
an unmoving queue was too much for me, so I wandered back north, found
myself up the hill overlooking the church we'd visited earlier, visited a
couple more churches, returned to the gallery, where the queue was much
shorter but no less stationary, and so I returned to the hotel for a rest.

We left our hotel at 3.00 pm and
coached it to Spello and Santa Maria Maggiore, to see the very fine,
recently restored, frescoes by Pinturicchio in the crowded Cappella
Baglioni (see above right). There's also a weird altarpiece sculpture of the Virgin's Holy
House being transported (see right). Refreshment (beer, coffee, wine, tea,
gelato) was then taken in a bar's huge garden, which Geoff had found on a
previous trip.
We then drove the short distance to Bevagna for a wander in the main
Piazza Silvestri, including the church of San Michele Arcangelo (see
stone detailing, right) followed by dinner at Ristorante Piazza Onofri,
recommended by Marco our coach driver, and another one of the trip's best
meals. Francis of Assisi's alleged preaching to the birds took place in a
field outside Bevagna.
Sunday 7th
The hotel's breakfast cakes have been a bit unspecial, but this morning I
tried a slice of the apple sponge, which had a lovely cinnamon kick to it.
This morning on the coach at 9.30 again to Montefalco. After a coffee
break (me I had a (very thick) hot chocolate), we made for Montefalco’s
Civic Museum, which complex includes the church of San Francesco, with
some special frescoes of the Life of Saint Francis by Benozzo Gozzoli in the
apse. The nave features a tasty variety of murals too, of very varying
dates and states of fragmentation, including an illusory painted
altarpiece in the Capella San Girolamo (see right) also by Benozzo
Gozzoli. A fresco treat for fans.
Lunch was back in the main square. I had a bufala pizza and our table of
four shared a bottle of the stout local rosso. In the afternoon we took
the coach and two escalators up to the duomo of Spoleto in another
handsome square, to admire more fine apse frescoes, this time of the
Life of the Virgin by Filippo Lippi, his last work, as he died in
Spoleto and has a fine memorial here designed by his son Filippino.
Back in Perugia we congregated for prosecco on the rooftop terrace before
dinner in the hotel restaurant where I was finally faced with the
mozzarella and tomato salad main course, but it was at least a nice fresh
one.
Monday 8th
After checking out the coach took us to Orvieto and the medieval Duomo
with the masterpiece facade sculptures by the Sienese Lorenzo Maitani.
Inside I was commissioned by Paula to take good pics of the Gentile da
Fabriano's 1425 Virgin and Child, then we went into the Chapel of
San Brizio with its Last Judgement frescoes by Luca Signorelli
which are not favourites but have their points of importance and interest,
the vaults frescoed by Fra Angelico and Benozzo Gozzoli amongst the most. Then to the Museo dell’Opera del Duomo next door, which has panels by
Simone Martini and the original sculpture of the Virgin and Child
from the cathedral facade.
Our final group lunch was at the nearby Ristorante Maurizio, which prides
itself on its own locally-produced olive oil and wine and the balsamic
vinegar which a friendly company in Modena makes using the Maurizio
people's grapes. So each course was preceded by a sample of these
vinegars, of increasing age, ending with one that was 59 years old. And a
bit of an acquired taste.
After which there was some time to wander, and buy table linen. Me I got a
fridge magnet and tasteful keyring from the Duomo shop. I had got the
impression that Marco our coach driver was a cat person, which Geoff
confirmed by reporting that he'd said he always has cat biscuits in his
pocket to feed the cats that live in the car park we were using in
the old barracks. Showing him a photo of my two, Lily and Minnie, on my
phone he repaid with a photo of his fluffy tortoiseshell called Mimi.
The coach to Fiumicino Airport took about two hours, our flight was
scheduled to depart at 9.00 pm and seemed to be only running 20 minutes
late. I don't want to talk about the nosy and kicky little girl in the
seat behind mine, as even more of a nuisance was getting in so late
that only the Heathrow Express to Paddington was taken before it was too
late for any other tube options, necessitating a black cab from Paddington
to Tooting in torrential rain. The lateness and wetness and desperation to
get home making the 40 quid
fare seem not unreasonable.
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Perugia - The Tuscan Gate

Assisi - San Francesco

Assisi - Santa Chiara

Spello - Santa Maria Maggiore

Bevagna- San Michele Arcangelo


Spoleto - the Duomo
and the
tomb of Filippo Lippi inside, designed by his son Filippino.
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