My immediate reaction is that I have come to a place I will love.
From the train station we take the funicular up the hillside into the walled city of Orvieto.
The city itself is exactly my image of the perfect Italian town, but I soon discover there are lots of reasons to like this place.
For example, when we arrive at our lodging we discover that the suite we had requested had not been reserved for us. (I am absolutely desperate for space after our minuscule room in Rome, so this is not new I wanted to hear.) But, in exchange for the suite, we are told that we are being given the room with the very best view.
That seems like a good trade.
Once in our room we immediately discover that the “European” adapter (the one that worked perfectly in Rome) doesn’t fit into the outlets here. No one is around who speaks much English, but a sweet elderly nun in the office looks at my adapter and explains that the lighting store will be able to help us and gives us directions to get there. . . at least, that’s what I think she tells us. Still, it is a bit of a surprise to walk directly to a store displaying lamps in the window and have the (mostly non-English speaking) man behind the counter take one quick glance at my adapter and pull out exactly what I need. I buy two for a couple of Euros.
I love this place! It’s beautiful, but it is also real and human.
I think it was that regular humanness that I had trouble finding in Rome. Maybe it was there, but I struggled to see it. It’s obvious here.