Oct. 19: Easy Walk & Lovely Afternoon

We had an easy approximately 7 mile walk from Montefalco to Bevagna. No steep ascents or descents on this one, just walking along a paved road for a while, then on a white road and then a paved bike path before entering the city walls. The weather was fantastic and we felt good from a day of rest. Wearing clean hiking clothes thanks to the availability of the laundromat was a bonus.

We got up early to get organized and packed so the company could move our luggage to our hotel in Bevagna. We were ready to leave that tiny room and Montefalco.

The walk was through farmlands and vineyards and along a river bank. No waymarks, but the directions were clear.

There was one strange encounter. As we left the Montefalco city limits and were walking down the road to find the unpaved path, the directions mentioned passing a small hotel on the left. We found it easily enough, but it was strange.

Snakes in jars, doll heads, some kind of scary Santa and there was something dead on a bench that we didn’t photograph. Betsy took the pictures and then we scurried past this Hotel of Horrors. We tried not to imagine what might be on the inside.

Just as we passed it, a man called out to us from its upper deck, though not by our names, thankfully. He was no Father Phillip. He didn’t speak English, but he said Bavagna? so it was clear he was asking us if that was our destination. Yes, I said.

The road diverged exactly at that point and the directions told us to get off the paved road and onto an unpaved one. The paved road continued left. He pointed left. I pointed to the unpaved road. He said No! He made a more dramatic gesture for us to continue on the paved road. We consulted our directions. Clearly, we were to get on the unpaved road. We walked a bit down the paved road thinking maybe he was correct. Then we thought about all the creepy stuff at that hotel and decided to trust our judgement instead of his, and walked back to the unpaved road and took that route. We joked that he probably wanted us on the paved road so he could find us and take us back to that horror museum of a hotel.

We made the right decision and had a fabulous walk. In retrospect, perhaps his directions would have resulted in a shorter walk as our unpaved road intersected with the paved road a few miles further down. But, the walk is the thing. It’s why we do these holidays. The beauty of the walk is the whole point, not walking along a busy road dodging cars.  

We loved Bavagna. Yes, it is another medieval town with lots of ancient buildings, but each one of these towns has its own personality. This one felt like every day life. We saw children get out of school, ride their bikes through the streets, heard Mothers assign chores to their children as they walked home. We didn’t need to understand Italian to grasp what was happening around us. Older men and women came to the piazza late in the day to visit and watch the sun move down the buildings. People picked up dinner for their families. It was one of the best days we’ve had, spent just watching people get on with their daily lives.

We were hungry and it was noon and we never know when everything is going to close for the siesta. So we quickly changed clothes, walked just around the corner from the hotel and found an outdoor table at a little cafe that serves pizza.

The pizzas were larger than we expected. One would have been fine as we ate about half, and that was enough for lunch and dinner. But, they were delicious.

The whole time we were having lunch, there was a strange woman walking back and forth from about our table to the other end of the cafe and then back again. At first, she was wearing a dress and stack shoes, lots of makeup. Then she disappeared for about 10 minutes and was back wearing a black skirt and top and different stack thigh-high stacked boots, still lots of makeup and still walking back and forth in this little area. I said she was the Italian version of Delta Dawn waiting for a man who wouldn’t show. Betsy’s mind went elsewhere, thinking she might be a prostitute. A man did eventually show up and they sat at a table briefly and then left together. So, who knows. It was odd, though.

After lunch, it was time to explore the town. 

Then the magic happened. We were walking up a small alley and came across a shop. A sign explained it was a shop that made paper in the old traditional way. Betsy peeked inside. I cautioned her not to go in since no one appeared to be there.

She ignored me and that was a good thing. I often lean toward caution while she is bold. In she went and her instincts paid off. Betsy heard someone whistling in the loft upstairs and she called out and suddenly we were meeting Master Papermaker Francesco Proietti. He spoke no English and we speak no Italian, but somehow we communicated and he showed us his paper making process.

From a 2009 article in Montecristo Magazine: “Proietti’s technique for making paper from rags was passed from China to the Arab world, eventually finding its way to Italy through the country’s ports. Today, Proietti’s workshop, called La Valchiera, is the only authentically restored paper mill in Italy.”

He turned on the waterwheel which operates a pulp pounder machine. The water causes large longs to hammer away at linen or hemp rags. A lime mixture helps break down the cloth. Then he puts the pulp into a tub and stirs it with water. He then removes some of the pulp with a wire mould and turns it out to be pressed. A final step is hanging the paper to dry.

Water turns the wheel and those two logs rise and fall, pounding cloth placed in those troughs with some lime mixture. 

He stirs the pulp

Paper hanging to dry

He looks for a piece of paper to give to us.

He also took us into his back yard where he has peacocks, rabbits, ducks roaming around. There is a glass blowing furnace, but we didn’t understand whether he had that skill or if someone else had used the furnace.

The private tour was so incredible and added some magic to our visit to Bevagna.

That’s Betsy on the other side of the fountain where we sat for a couple of hours and watched the world go by.