Friday 28 October 2011
Saint Francis of Assisi lived other places but most people haven't heard of Saint Francis of Cortona. Undeniably, he spent time there and we visited his monastery tucked into the hills below the mist. Colleen, Lisa, Charles, Dian and Nicole all piled into the car at 10:30 AM for a drive that could have taken place anywhere, it was that foggy!
As we entered the area that a wealthy landowner had given St. Francis and his followers back in 1211, the clouds began to burn away and there was “Le Celle.” Two workmen were eating their lunch with legs dangling over the wall leading to the church. For some reason, (preparations for All Saints Day?) the church was closed, but Saint Francis’ little chapel adjoining his cell was open and we sat for a few moments in contemplation. At some times of the year there’s a swift running stream that passes right outside his window but when we were there it was nearly dried up. The grape ivy that covered the bridge was a brilliant crimson and the birds were chirping loudly in that sacred place. Dian met a monk who came out to greet a few tourists (from L.A.!), and Charles bought a few souvenirs.
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| Workers taking a break on the side of a wall |
With the other Frances just a few kilometers away, we made a side trip down the road to the home of Frances Mayes, author of “Under The Tuscan Sun.” Her terraced garden and house above were beautiful but we didn’t stop. Instead we headed into Cortona to have lunch and pick up a map that Colleen had had framed. The shop owner, Ivan, was kind enough to let us see and shoot pictures of his ancient well in the basement of the store. He had fish backlit by a beam of light and an old urn resting on the bottom that made for some interesting shots by Nicole/Ansel Andrews.
We ate in a lovely restaurant across from the theater and had pumpkin/vegetable soup, lasagna, truffles with melted tomino cheese and a pseudo Greek salad among other selections. Have we mentioned how good the food is here in Italy?
Back at home we took a siesta then prepared for karaoke with Lisa at the local bar. We hit a home run with "Country Roads" and tried valiantly to sing along with the kids who knew every Italian song, and performed them with gusto! At midnight, when the local ordinance required them to shut down the music, the small crowd was treated to mussels, shrimp, pizza etc. by the bar owner. Dian gave her a hand-painted rock.
Saint Francis of Assisi lived other places but most people haven't heard of Saint Francis of Cortona. Undeniably, he spent time there and we visited his monastery tucked into the hills below the mist. Colleen, Lisa, Charles, Dian and Nicole all piled into the car at 10:30 AM for a drive that could have taken place anywhere, it was that foggy!
As we entered the area that a wealthy landowner had given St. Francis and his followers back in 1211, the clouds began to burn away and there was “Le Celle.” Two workmen were eating their lunch with legs dangling over the wall leading to the church. For some reason, (preparations for All Saints Day?) the church was closed, but Saint Francis’ little chapel adjoining his cell was open and we sat for a few moments in contemplation. At some times of the year there’s a swift running stream that passes right outside his window but when we were there it was nearly dried up. The grape ivy that covered the bridge was a brilliant crimson and the birds were chirping loudly in that sacred place. Dian met a monk who came out to greet a few tourists (from L.A.!), and Charles bought a few souvenirs.
We ate in a lovely restaurant across from the theater and had pumpkin/vegetable soup, lasagna, truffles with melted tomino cheese and a pseudo Greek salad among other selections. Have we mentioned how good the food is here in Italy?
Back at home we took a siesta then prepared for karaoke with Lisa at the local bar. We hit a home run with "Country Roads" and tried valiantly to sing along with the kids who knew every Italian song, and performed them with gusto! At midnight, when the local ordinance required them to shut down the music, the small crowd was treated to mussels, shrimp, pizza etc. by the bar owner. Dian gave her a hand-painted rock.
wonderful wonderful
ReplyDeleteall i can say
hugs to you fabulous Gypsies
Hi Vicki, from Dian -- your Italian roots are showing! I became a blonde and now my roots are showing too! Being gypsies is fun but we can never really forget our roots with friends like you. Lots of love.
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