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Bevagna and Le Case Gialle

By 1:00, we were starving, so we drove to Bevagna in search of lunch. We arrived at Occtavio at 1:45, their last customers for pranzo. Brad ordered gnocchi Sagrantino, and I had a delicious picchiatelli with guanciale and pecorino.


After lunch we walked through the sweet little town of Bevagna. There were charming little streets with multiple arches overhead that appear to keep the buildings on either side from leaning in toward each other. We walked through the whole town after getting a map from the tourist office. Bevagna has an ancient Roman theater, and several charming piazzas.


From Bevagna, we drove 10K to Foligno in search of a supermarket. This was Brad’s first experience in an Italian grocery store, so he learned how to get the grocery cart for a Euro, choose his loaf of fresh bread, and bag his groceries. We were next in line at he cashier, when a tiny, ancient lady came up behind us with only a few items. I told her to go ahead of us. She thanked us and proceeded to speak rapidly in Italian for the neck several minutes while I kept smiling and nodding. I understood about 75% of what she said. When Brad asked me what she said, I translated: “I live alone now, so I don’t need much and I don’t cook much, but I like my fresh bread, but I don’t make it any more. My husband of 65 years died, and I am 93 years old.”

She asked me how long we had been in Italy. I told her we had been here one week so far, and we were staying another two weeks in Italy. I said we come every year, but this was only our second visit to Umbria, and our first day in Foligno. I told her we lived in California, and she complimented my Italian. Then she frowned and asked, “How do you like living in THAT place?” I said it was pretty and warm where we lived, but I hadn’t gotten her meaning. She said, “No, I don’t mean what does it look like. I mean do you like to live where your country does so many bad things in the world?” I was at a loss for words, and not fluent enough in Italian, so all I could think of to say was, “Mi dispiace.” By then she had paid for her food, and Brad was bagging her groceries for her. When she had all of her things, she came back to say good-by to us and wish us well. I wish I had taken her picture.

We came back to our apartment (HOME on the GPS), and unloaded our bread, cold cuts, cheese, coffee, milk, water, soda and snacks. We took a nice nap, then enjoyed our usual early evening wine and coffee on our beautiful terrace. We weren’t very hungry, so we had a snack of a slice of bread with gorgonzola dolce and salumi with wine for dinner. We sat quietly looking at he lights of Montefalco in the distance, and read our books until 11:00.


Comments (2)

Moi ;):

I have to say that when we were in Italy last month, we also received very anti-American sentiments. We were treated more rudely than we ever were by the French......and I think the people who treated us kindly you could count on two hands.

One thing I noticed when we were in Italy this past month was all the anti-American graffiti.

The TV news programs seem to shelter their people from what is really going on in the world. Their news is superficial, whatever they tell about the US is very negative and all centers around the war. Not that you can blame them, but that may at least give an explanation for the woman's reaction.


That lack of Internet access is definitely hampering the blogging this week, huh? See you soon.

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