Assisiiiii e me

I slept like a maiale (pig) from 10pm till 8am and got up to grab a standard caffe latte and brioche before catching the 9.30am (3,10E) bus at Piazza Parmigiani to Assisi, a hilltop town one hour away. It was extremely ventoso (windy) and un po fresco; the sky threatened to pour. The trip was quite rilassante as we passed through verdant hills and climbed the steep slopes where the looming vision of the Basilica di San Francesco came into sight. Exactly 10 years ago, Umbria was hit by serial earthquakes and the Basilica at Assisi bore the brunt of it. However it seemed to survive the damages and is now the most visited town in Umbria, especially among followers of their local hero St Francis as well as St Chiara.

I found my way easily to the first stop, the pretty Cathedrale at Piazza Rufino which led to the gorgeous Santa Chiara, a pink-white basilica with a big-arse crowded terrace piazza overlooking the scenic countryside below. I then made my way, shielding my eyes and fly-away hair from the violent wind, to the main Piazza Comune where old men chilled out with the pigeons and people-watched insieme.

Finally more cosy lanes led me to the stunning Basilica di San Francesco where I secretly took a forbidden photo inside (terribile me!). There were the Upper and Lower sections, plus the underground crypt where St Francis' tomb lay. I'm not the most religious persona but it was rather enchanting to see the devotees praying on their knees, hands clasped to his tomb while strains of monks chanting echoed in the background.

Not hungry again (imagine me!), I bought a panino and thè limone and sat by a pretty ledge to savour the views before getting restless and walked around the whole town to hunt for cats. Assisi was stupendo, each backlane was quaint like Cortona, but almost prettier. Each doorframe was decorated with blooming flower pots and I was always drawn to the ornate doorknobs and weathered frames.

I tried to shoot 3 cats but they were hard to pin down and the settings were not ideal. At this point, I seemed to have more photos of pigeons (dead and alive, si a bit morbid) as well as overhanging lamp posts. Maybe I'd change the photo exhibit to 'Cats & Pigeons' next year, hahahahaha. I was ready to go but have to wait for the bus at 5plus so I wandered around more to explore every little lane.

Anyway you must be wondering about the dinner with the guy right?? Lui si chiama Arturo (I never heard of it before), he's 35, orignally from Calabria and is in Informazioni in Medici. I asked him 'Dove andiamo?' and he suggested a pizzeria (I was screaming inside 'noooooooooo') but said 'ok, va bene' and we strolled down the breezy Corso Vannucci, talking about how our day was. I asked him to show me the Università Per Stranieri which he did and then he tried to hold my hand to which I said noooooooooo and brushed his hand away. He got the message and from then, we just hang out - like two strangers who needed desperate company.

I felt like his therapist, come Bruce Willis in the film 'Sixth Sense', while he poured his problems to me. He confided that he has a sort-of ragazza (Polish) whom he was trying to woo with a bunch of flowers and lettera he sent today - to which I told him 'che fai qui con me? Devi andare da sua ora' (what are you doing here with me? You have to go to her place now). But he said she didn't like him to go over on weekdays. He liked her but she's un po fredda (cold). I nodded thinking secretly this guy has no chance with her and advised him to 'stai tranquillo, non c'e fretta. Noi donne non ci piace fretta'. (Chill, don't rush it, we women don't like rush)

He spoke poco inglese but surprisingly I understood most of what he said - guess he must be quite patient with all the straniere (foreign girls) he used to date. Over a Margherita pizza (surprisingly not bad), he told me about his ex Indonesian girlfriend who was much younger than him and un po come bambina (childish). They had argued and she went out to sleep with another man, and he got infected cos 'non c'e protezione' and he had to go on antibiotics for 2 months (I almost choked on my birra when I finally understood what he was saying). He had slept with 20 donne and I laughed in jest 'Che bravo!'.

Apart from his love-sex life, we spoke about Italia, la vita, lavoro, ecc and that 'Perugini sono stupidi'. The funniest thing he told me was that he hates Italian ragazze cos they 'fanno poco sesso' and were mostly lesbians - to which I mocked 'No! Non ti credo'. 'è vero', he affirmed seriously. We strolled around and hang out at Piazza IX Nov till 10pm cos he had to sleep and he told me I gave him a lot of 'serenita' that night and I was molto 'intelligente' while he was 'stupido' for not speaking inglese. Hehe. That was really a funny episode, not as bad as you'd imagine. I guess he's just a harmless lonely man looking for a listening ear. Well, he found the right candidate as I had all the time in the world.