Travelogue: Italy
In Which I Reach Substack's "Email Capacity"
The Songbirds1 and I have just returned from a trip to Italy, one of my favorite places in the world. Going there feels like going home. The insanely-pruned trees, little gardens, and piled-up houses all remind me of my great-grandfather, who emigrated in 1920.2 (Also, the food, obvs.) We’ve been planning this for years, after our last trip was cancelled at the start of the pandemic.
We spent five days in Orvieto, a little Umbrian city atop a volcanic tuff, followed by two days in Rome. The trip was tangentially related to my new memoir (i.e. totally on topic for my newsletter)3 in that I first visited Orvieto while I was in grad school, and am still debating whether or not to include these stories in the book. Here’s a snapshot of our travels.
Monday, March 27 - Tuesday, March 28
We flew from Indianapolis to Rome. The baby (Teeny Bird) missed his nap and slept for maybe four hours on the plane, on top of me, despite having his own seat.4 The twelve-year-old (Little Bird) slept on a pile of pillows that Christian continually adjusted. He and I made desperate eye contact all night. From the Rome airport, we took a car to Orvieto and arrived at our Airbnb, hosted by a wonderfully generous and thoughtful local named Taira.
Wednesday, March 29
Up early, we all decided to walk the Anello della Rupe, the path around Orvieto. After some confusion about how exactly to find the path,5 the sun6 was shining and I was absolutely thrilled to be winding our way on a sometimes-treacherous path. The others were not thrilled. I mean, it’s true that I wasn’t pushing the stroller per se, but I did offer to run ahead at least twice to see if I could find an entrance back into the city. Eventually, we scrambled up some (medieval???) steps and back inside the city walls. We found our way to il Montanucci for many, many breakfast cookies.
Later, we visited the Duomo, lit candles, and marveled at Signorelli’s mural. I also had Little Bird kneel on a pew to see what it was like.7
Then we went on the Orvieto Underground tour.8 Beneath Orvieto, there are over 1,200 tunnels and caves dug into the tuff (lava ash) over the course of 3,000 years. These were used for various purposes like housing pigeons in case of seige, food storage, animal shelters, and producing olive oil. Most of the caves are still private, because in Orvieto if you own property, you also own the cave beneath.
In the afternoon, we followed Corso Cavour all the way down to to Porta Soliana, one of the historic entrances to the city, built into a fortress. The park there was small and pretty, and Teeny was thrilled to befriend some fish in a little fountain that he tried to climb into. That night, we ate at Ristorante Charlie, which appeared to be filled exclusively with readers of Rick Steves travel guides. The pizza and Orvieto Classico were amazing.
Thursday, March 30
We visited the market in Piazza del Popolo and picked up strawberries, potatoes, bread, and oranges. A nice old Italian lady was obsessed with Teeny and bought him a bouquet of roses, which made the rest of the Italian ladies even more obsessed with him. They were not obsessed with me. Teeny’s main interest was chasing pigeons, then flapping his arms when they flew away. I tried to stop him from picking up (and eating) feathers from the cobblestone and am 80% sure I stopped him at least once.
During Teeny’s nap, Christian and I went on a date at La Palomba, probably the most famous trattoria in town. It has a Michelen star. We ordered ventresca con bruschetta (bruschetta with bacon), pasta fresca al cinghiale (pasta with wild boar sauce), and umbrichelli al tartufo (pasta with truffles). Orvieto is part of the Slow Food movement, so meals are carefully prepared with fresh, delicious ingredients.
In the afternoon, Taira offered to pick us up and take us to her farm in the countryside. There was no carseat but we figured it’s totally fine and nothing at all to worry about on small, winding Umbrian roads. At the farm, which she rents out each summer, there were chickens, a duck, dogs, two roosters, and a field under which she discovered Etruscan tombs. Teeny got to pet a chicken and nearly died of happiness. Meanwhile, Little Bird and I planted tomatos.
Back in Orvieto, we decided we needed gelato before dinner and that we should see if the little buddy could handle another late night. We ate at Il Malandrino (recommended by Taira). The waitress brought Teeny some water with a straw. He blew bubbles. She smiled. He blew more bubbles. Anyway, Christian and I ordered pasta fresca al cinghiale (again) and cacio e pepe. It was my favorite food of the trip. Anyway, Teeny could not hang and Christian took him home. Little Bird and I stayed and gossiped about the cascade of relationships within the sixth grade, which is one of my favorite topics.
Friday, March 31
Christian, Teeny, and I scouted a path to see how far it was to get to the Etruscan Necropolis. This time, we entered the Anello della Rupe from Porta Vivaria and it was a smooth, extremely beautiful descent on a clearly-marked trail. On the left were the towering city walls, made of tuffo; on the right was a wooden fence and views of the Umbrian countryside, peppered with cypress trees and olive groves.
Christian and Little Bird went to lunch at Ristorante Grotte del Funaro, a touristy place that is in an underground cave. Little Bird was offered wine (?) but opted for a Sprite. Christian brought back an entire pizza for me, because he KNOWS me.
In the afternoon, we visited Fattoria Madonna Delle Macchie, a winery and olive oil producer. We walked through the dark, hand-picked tunnel where barrels were originally stored, and had an amazing wine tasting with appetizers in what I can only call a cave. After several glasses of wine (it was basically an open bar), I asked to see the modern part of the facility. Serena, the owner, grabbed her keys and walked us up a hill to see the stainless steel machinery. It’s less pretty than the old stuff, but still a marvel to learn how it works. There was also a real live tractor there, and Teeny was beside himself.
Saturday, April 1
In the morning, we made our way back down the Anello della Rupe to view the Necropoli Etrusca Di Crocifisso Del Tufo, or the Etruscan Necropolis named for a crucifix engraved in the tuff inside a rock chapel. It’s a city of the dead with over 200 tombs with walkways to each little…house? In one, it definitely looked like there was an Infected on the wall,9 so I walked very quickly past it and am unscathed as far as I know. Anyway, the Necropolis is quiet and beautiful, and there's a little cafe with delicious cappuccino and pastries at the entrance. We spent the rest of the afternoon socializing with Taira and her friends, and wandering the city.
Sunday, April 2
After a flurry of shoving things into suitcases and cleaning up the apartment, we lugged our shit to the train station and we were off to Roma!
Substack has informed me that I’ve reached email capacity10 so let me just say that in Rome we saw The Colosseum (amazing), the Roman Forum (fantastic) the Pantheon (other-worldly), the Trevi Fountain (pretty, but packed), the Spanish Steps (literally just STAIRS), St. Peter’s Basilica (exterior only, sigh), and I walked by the Altar of the Fatherland, which is a beautiful monument with chariots on top.
Then, after sixteen or so hours in transit, we finally returned to our house, thrilled to have traveled overseas with the kiddos, and equally relieved to be home.
This is what we call ourselves, The Songbirds. We sometimes shorten it to “Bird” and we can all pretty much tell who is talking to whom based on tone. Christian said the origins of this nickname should die with us, so I’m sworn to secrecy. All I can say is that if you watch a certain popular/terrible/amazing tv show, as we did in the very beginning of our relationship, you’ll see Tammy Taylor Rayna Jaymes say the word songbird, and THAT is the origin of our family nickname that will last at least another hundred years. Thank you, Tammy! Sorry, Songbird!
From a place in Reggio Calabria that Wikipedia calls the "cradle of kidnapping" due to the stronghold of organized crime in the town. So, um, that should give you a sense of my background.
I think we all know by now that the true “topic” of my “newsletter” is to write about my marriage in the footnotes.
Before we left, my BFF Bethany lightly suggested I bring a change of clothes for both Teeny and me on the plane. She described a distressing poop incident from traveling with her own baby. I nodded but thought to myself, “He’ll be fine” and meant to pack at least an extra pair of pants for him. Instead, I forgot any extra clothes for him or me, and I forgot THE WIPES. Which is how Christian and I found ourselves shoved into an airplane bathroom at 9pm wiping liquidy shit off the baby’s ass and marveling as it smeared across all of our clothes, which we had to pretend not to notice for the next twelve hours. This is a clear wake-up call that I should listen to Bethany on all matters because SHE KNOWS.
Pro-Tip. If you’re in Orvieto with a hungry one-year-old and you take the Foro Boario entrance onto the Anello della Rupe, you have to take a LEFT off the elevator to find the path. If you take a RIGHT, you’ll need to cross a parking lot, climb some stairs, and pass through a residential area to get back on. Do not try to take a RIGHT.
THE UMBRIAN SUN, which is different than the American sun.
My extended family is very, very Catholic (of the Latin Mass ilk) so I’ve had to kneel and I just felt like she really needed to know what it was like.
Well, Teeny and I went on part of the tour, until he screamed bloody murder and I brought him home for a nap.
I highly recommend the show The Last of Us, even though it will give me nightmares probably until I die. If you’re scared of zombies, like I am, then start with Episode 3, which is the best one. This is how Christian convinced me to watch the show. He is the Bill to my Frank.
What does that even mean? But also, fair.