Chapter 2 - Civita at Last: A Taste of Tuscany

Within minutes of leaving the La Giustiana train station, we found ourselves headed north through the rolling green hills of southern Tuscany in spring, colored here and there with the bold yellow of rapeseed flowers and the crimson red of the common poppy, Papaver rhoeas. Approaching Bagnoregio from the south, I had turn the car around to spend a view minutes poking around a tiny forest church, with a single pew that, at most, would accommodate half a dozen parishioners.

Quaint forest church

Church interior, with its single pew

We rolled into Bagnoregio around 4 p.m. and checked in at the hotel, only to learn, with sadness, that the owner and original namesake of our Hotel, Pucci, the daughter of a diplomat who spoke four languages and who’d been so helpful to us on our last visit, had passed away and the hotel had changed ownership. The college-aged woman who helped us was pleasant and welcoming in her own right, however. She spoke little English, but made up for it with determination and a smile. I think we were the only ones who stayed there that night, as the hotel was closed the next day, and, when we let ourselves out the next morning (as per prior arrangement), the place was as quiet as a church. The hotel proved the cheapest of our time in Europe at 80 Euros per night, discounted to 70 because the Monday closure meant no breakfast. For that we got a large room, tastefully decorated with the exception of the curtains, which were a bit kitschy, a full private bath, a comfortable bed, and a lovely view of the neighboring clocktower.

Switchbacks leading to the front gate

With our bags stowed it was time for the main event: Civita! They have big parking lot there now for a couple of Euros an hour. We tried and failed to help some Chinese tourists there figure out the ticket machine. (Two days in, and we’re now pros!) We paid the entrance fee, bought a “artisanal” gelato that was by no means artisanal (probably the worst of our trip), paid the entrance fee (roughly 5 Euros each as I recall) and then began the long walk up the donkey path. Okay, it’s not a donkey path. A donkey path used to run along in that direction, but now it’s a long, white footbridge, which, while convenient, lacks any real charm. Here’s this quaint hilltop town, with its stone walls and thousands of years of history, and this long, lumbering, elevated footbridge to it that looks like it was built in the 1970s or 1980s. Fortunately, the town itself looks nothing like the 1970s or 1980s ...

They call Civita the “dying” town, and it’s true. It’s basically dead as far as a town goes because it was too remote and inconvenient to making living there all that practical. (The smart ones moved to Bagnoregio over the years.) For the most part now it’s made up of shops, restaurants, B&Bs and a few second-home type places for people who live and work elsewhere. 

View looking out the front gate

Etruscan cave 

I’m thoroughly glad we visited it late in the day during shoulder season, because I would *hate* to see it during the high season and packed with tourists. What would all those tourists do beyond mill about, buy a postcard, and/or order a coffee? Nothing, really, because that’s about all there is to do in Civita. Having said that, it’s super cute and super quaint. Quiet alleys, stone buildings, and cobblestone streets. Art and knick-knack shops. Garden terraces with spectacular views. Great doors (I love the doors!) Classic hilltop-town stuff. Around Civita, we noticed a lot of stone rings that had been embedded in the walls and wondered whether they were used to tie up the donkeys that, historically, supplied the city. Turns out that’s exactly what they were used for. (Their Italian name is the lovely sounding annelle.) At the far (east) end we found some interesting caves carved into the sides of the hill, some of which are still used for animals, others for storage, and even one that’s kind of a rough chapel with a crucifix and a donation box. A little higher is an old Etruscan cave one can duck into for 1 Euro. It’s well worth the single Euro as it’s stuffed with interesting antiques, including an old olive press, a wine cellar, hidden tunnels, and more. And that was Civita.

A Civitian cat, so much cooler than other cats

We enjoyed a quiet dinner at our hotel after we found our first two choices (one in Civita and one in Bagnoregio) closed. The hotel’s food was solid-- typical Italian fare--though not spectacular. The next morning, as Becky was retrieving the car, I ducked into a little fruit and vegetable shop across the street. A store like that would never survive in the U.S., with our hyper focus on cost and economies of scale, but in Europe, as in much of the rest of the world, small shops survive because people don’t have big houses or the big pantries that go with them, and so they shop several times a week at little places within walking distance. The fellow that runs this particular shop likely gets an added boost from the tourist traffic, though it’s far enough from Civita that it doesn’t make for an obvious tourist stop. In any event, it proved a delightful little shop, where all the fruits and vegetables looked fresh and wholesome. We bought a fruit smoothie from him with kiwi, pineapple, strawberries, and ginger, and it was delightful with no added sugar--just fresh fruit and raw ginger, blended up and poured into a glass. I also bought a pint of fresh strawberries from him for 2.5 Euros, which we ate as we drove north. They were fantastic--like the strawberries I remember picking in my Grandfather’s garden when I was a boy--real strawberries, not the pretty but bland things one so often finds in the supermarkets these days.

Madonna and Child woodcarving, Civita