Soriano Nel Cimino, Italy
I left Florence for Soriano Nel Cimino, the Italian version of Kings Landing for GoT fans. After missing a pre-arranged taxi due to a delayed train. I was stuck in a small town about 40 mins outside of Rome with no cell service or Wi-Fi. A bus pulls into the station and with much gesturing to the people waiting around, I determine that it goes to Soriano nel Cimino, my destination. I was ready to board, but had no ticket. I had to run to a bar, yes, a bar, buy a ticket and run back to the bus. A lady graciously watched my luggage and held the bus door open while I made the mad dash. The bus driver lugs my suitcase unto the bus and we set off. What a wait to start a visit!
I see road signs for Soriano so I know I’m headed in the right direction. Except 30 mins later the driver stops the bus and looks at me. Without a word of English, I realize he’s telling me that we are at the end of the line and Palazzo Catalani, a 17th century palace that was converted to apartments, is nowhere in sight. I get off the bus and after a lot of Italian and even more gesturing, I realize the bus driver is telling me to go back up the steep hill we had just driven down and to make several turns, all with his hands indicating a steep climb. I looked down at my heavy suitcase, my carryon and my purse and set off up this winding road with cars zooming by.
At the top of the hill I see an elderly gentleman with a little dog: “Scusi, dove Palazzo Catalani?”, I say and the response is a string of Italian.
I recognize the Italian word for steps, but my heart sinks at the multiple zigzag movements he’s making with his hands. He walks me to the steps and sends me on my way.
I haul the luggage up the zig and then the zag with my heart racing and my breathing heavy. Then the first raindrop hits my nose and I falter and the tears start to form. I have no idea where I’m going, I’m in a place where I don’t speak the language, it’s about to rain and I have to use the bathroom. Mio Dio.
I looked behind and saw how far I had climbed, and a burst of strength comes to me. I say to myself: I am Francesca, of House Scarlett and I will not be defeated. This experience was just a part of the journey like everything else. When the second raindrop falls, I put one foot in front of the other, luggage in tow and just kept going. After several more zigzags, a quick stop to confirm that I was heading in the right direction, a sharp left and yet another steep brick path, I see the hotel awning and make my way in.
While I am waiting to get the apartment key, the receptionist looks outside and comments, “It’s hailing!”
By the time I settled into my apartment and looked out the window, a rainbow had formed .
Good looking out angels and ancestors.
Soriano is a medieval town with a castle on the hill. The the pope took it as his home after excommunicating the original aristocratic owners and banishing them to live in the lowlands. Yes, just took it. The Catholic church was so powerful in the Middle Ages that you didn't dare to stand up to the pope or you would eternity in hell. You see, the castle's vantage point made it excellent for defense because you could see the enemy coming from miles away. The pope had been driven out of Rome and the papal seat had moved to Vitterbo, a town, not too far away. The people in Rome had grown tired of the Catholic Church's wealth accumulation and corruption while they struggled - the papacy was more fragile than the history books shared. The next day , I took a train ride to Vitterbo, to see the vestiges of the former center of Christiandom. I had to walk sown the same hill I had to climb on my first day - what a difference a few days make.
The people of Soriano were gracious. and the food terrific. The Palazzo had a Michelin star restaurant and I ate there once, but most of the time I bought incredibly fresh food from the shops and cooked it myself. The food was so fresh that the potatoes still had dirt on them. Ahh! The chef at the Palazzo hosted a cheese tasting of cheeses he had made himself using a variety of ingredients and aging time to achieve the acquired flavors. It was fascinating to taste how an item like grass can influence the flavor of cheese.
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