Today we head out of the city and into the Umbria countryside, to Orvieto.
A word of advice if you’re buying tickets at the Rome train station, get there early!
We spend a grueling amount of time in the sweltering station, watching in misery while an attendant meticulously pieces together a transportation card; taking the same amount of time a four year old would to make a greeting from glue and paper.
On board the packed trained, I try to make conversation with Ali in Finnish, I have a feeling our presence as Americans might not be that welcome, but luckily we have the secret tool to confuse most anyone of our whereabouts- the Finnish language.
Arriving at a peaceful station, with no taxis, and little sign of people, we take a tram up to the city, which sits atop a large mountain.
Through the windows along the steep vertical climb we view vineyards clinging by their ancient gnarled roots to the dry craggy mountainside. Up- top the beautiful Umbrian landscape unfolds, soft green rolling farm terrain dotted with picturesque farmhouses.
Overcome with hunger we feast on a mozzarella salad, pizza and beer, and then wander down the many cobblestone streets. We find the side allies peacefully devoid of tourists.
After our walk about we settle down for a cocktail break at a corner cafe and amuse ourselves with the local entertainment; a clown dressed in a cheap outfit, his plastic clown shoes barely cover his tennis shoes, grease make up is smeared into an exaggerated smile but deep concentrated wrinkles furor his brow as he painstakingly produces what might be described as animal balloons (this requires a leap of imagination).
He has a steady stream of young customers, unfortunately he is not very fast, he works intensely, un-smiling, often a balloon pops or floats away and he has to begin the laborious task all over again. Sometimes he just hands them a single long skinny balloon- I guess this is supposed to be some sort of sword. Many young hopefuls gather around in their strollers to watching with amused anticipation, while the parents anxiously a-wait the triumphant moment of balloon completion.
It turns out that this weekend is a festival for street performers and families from many of the neighboring towns have come to Orvieto to see the shows.
After dinner wherever we wandered to we would catch an act.
We discovered our balloon man had stiff competition when we noticed children with elaborate fairy wings and majestic balloon hats, we knew this could not be the work of our perspiring corner clown. The new balloon man walked on stilts, mesmerizing the adults as well who peered up at him with child like awe as he expertly whipped up some extravagant creation, for a final insult to the other clown mans talent he could even tie them behind his back!
But the town was so full even the laborious corner clown maintained a steady stream of customers.
We noticed a huge crowd gathered next to the massive gold gilded church, we joined the circle to watch a clown in long pointed dress shoes, suspenders, and white tank top create his magic. We stood behind, with a view of the children who sat at his feet, their up turned faces full of gleeful delight. He stopped once to allow a moment for the church bells, removing his top hat, and bowing his long nosed head, then the show resumed- in excellent theater performer, he had us all entranced.
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