Siena and Assisi (Part 3)

ASSISI
(March 4-5)

So, you'll recall that we didn't have much of a plan for Siena. Well, we had even less of a plan for Assisi. At least in Siena we had an idea of where to stay...not so in Assisi. We had heard about one hotel, Hotel Rocca, only because the Austria undergrads, who also happened to be in Assisi at the same time, were staying there.

When we got dropped off on the little, windy hillside that is Assisi, I had a two-fold reaction:

First, I was just completely awe-struck by the beauty the little town. I had thought Siena was so amazing that there was no way Assisi could be better. Guess what, it is! The valleys are more sweeping, the town more ancient, and the whole place truly alive with the spirit of St. Francis. It was exactly where I pictured St. Francis would live. It is humble but beautiful and so alive. You can't help but be one with nature on this mini-mountain. All my ideas about what small-town Italy should look like, every picturesque scene my imagination dreamed up, were all fulfilled in Assisi.

And the weather was absolutely gorgeous! And by gorgeous I mean bitter cold and three times as windy as Siena. But it was beautiful because it's just exactly what the weather should have been like and it made me feel like we were even more in the time of St. Francis.

Below: A view from Assisi, the mountain, down to the valley below, Santa Maria degli Angeli.

My second reaction...Holy Cow! it's freezing out here and we haven't got any place to stay. Enter divine intervention...

Hotel Rocca
We hopped on a bus, which took us even farther up the mountain. We were searching for the one hotel we had heard of, but with 100 undergrads staying there, we were pretty sure there wouldn't be any room at the inn, so to speak. Well, we had to start somewhere, so that's where we started.

We got off the bus at Piazza Matteoti and went around searching for the hotel. Now, in Assisi, it's not like you can just walk up and down the street to look for the place you want to go to. There are only a few roads. To reach the majority of dwellings, you have to venture onto little walkways that twist and turn and creep between walls of houses. Then there are mysterious staircases descending through low-hanging arches, disappearing around bends or simply coming to a dead end. And forget about finding any kind of name for these walkways. Our free little tourist map was useless.

Eventually, we got there. We went up to the reception desk looking like a couple of bums with messy hair and all our belongings on our backs. We asked the guy if he had a room and he said, no. Bummer. But then he said apologetically, "Well, we do have one room on the side. But it's not in the hotel. Forty-five euro a night."

Yes! Hooray! Absolutely! We don't care if its a shed at this point, just put us somewhere!

So, he leads us away from the hotel to this little side area more towards the mountain. We are grateful, but at the same time, we don't know what to expect from this little side room he seemed so sorry to have to give to us.

He opened the door to the room and it was beautiful! Beautifully made beds, clean as a whistle, marble floors, amazing! We were shocked, stunned and amazed! When he left us, we opened up the window! What the heck?!? We have the most beatiful view ever of the vast green valleys Assisi towers over. We sat there awe-struck at our unbelievable fortune! Thank you Jesus!

Below: Part of the view from our hotel window

San Francesco
We settled in then got roaming through the town, which just becomes more and more beautiful as you grow more acquianted with it. We made our way down to San Francesco, a large Church where St. Francis is buried. It was wonderful to pray at his crypt...his spirit is still so alive there! I could have stayed for hours.

We turned in early, and nestled into our little hotel quarters for a peaceful and much needed nights rest.

San Damiano
In the morning we wanted to head over to San Damiano, another St. Francis pilgrimage site. We thought it was close. We actually thought it was a church that was right next to our hotel because there was a sign which seemed to point to it which said "San Damiano." When we found the Church closed, we busted out our little map and tried to figure out a place to go until it opened later. We took a look and thought, man that's weird - they got the name of the Church wrong on the map. Man, I know the map was free, but come on, try a little harder for accuracy, jeez. Well, the Lord humbled me a little when a few minutes later, we realized it wasn't San Domenico at all. The sign was pointing to the street next to the church, not the church itself. Woops. Idiots! Oh well, it's just on the next street.

We go walking along to the next street, which has another sign, then another sign, then another sign. Ummm...we kept getting suckered into following more and more signs, thinking, it's got to be coming up. About six signs later, we're following yet another sign down the steep mountain. We keep walking, and walking. At one point, I think I saw what can only be described as a mirage because I was convinced for a few seconds that this tiny little hut was the Church...St. Francis wasn't exactly into being ornate, after all. Well, it wasn't and we kept going down, down, down. Oh my gosh! We are going to have to walk back up this mountain! No, maybe we just took a side route, there must be a bus when we get to the bottom...afterall, it's a major pilgrimage site.

We finally get there and arrived just in time for Sunday Mass! Sweet! When we got out of Mass, we went looking around for the Portciuncola - the Church that St. Francis built when he heard Christ say from the Crucifix, "Francis, rebuild my Church!" and which Franciscan University built a replica of. But we can't find it. We flag down a sister and ask her in broken Italian, "Dov'e il Portciuncola?"

"One hour on foot!"

What? It's not here?

"Um, we'll just take the bus back up the hill and find it from there."

"No bus."

Yes, we had to walk all the way back up the hill. It didn't turn out to be as far as I thought going down, but it was no mole hill neither. I kept telling myself, it's just Vernal Falls, Yosemite, no problem...I've done this a thousand times.

Santa Chiara
After we made it up the hill and had a little snack, we went to the Church of Santa Chiara (St. Claire). Again, it was beautiful and there were relics from both her and St. Francis and her tomb in the crypt of the Church. There is also a very old set of frescoes illustrating the story of her life. I never really knew much about her, but now that I've had a taste, I want to learn more.

Santa Maria Degli Angeli
We finally figured out where the Portciuncola was and took a bus over to the basilica of Santa Maria Deglia Angeli, which isn't actually in Assisi, but rather the town down in the valley which bares the same name.

The port was beautiful in a simple kind of way. It is actually inside the larger basicala and doesn't really look that much like the University's replica. But the spirit is the same and it was a blessing to be able to go inside and pray. St. Francis has been the patron of my whole trip to Rome, so I was especially grateful to be able to visit his little church. It's actually funny, because in this grand basilica with so many fancy paintings and expensive fixtures, the focus of everybody visiting there is the humble little stone edifice sitting in the center.

There is also a memorial at the spot where St. Francis died just to the right of the altar.

We finally hopped back on the train bound for Rome. But it was a beautiful trip. We planned for nothing and wanted for nothing thanks to the Lord's generosity.