Misty Bevagna

Bevagna is special. It’s a rare medieval town located on the valley floor alongside the Topino river, rather than perched on a hilltop. Beyond the unique location my visit is special for several reasons. For starters, I feel like the only non-Italian tourist in Bevagna. I wander within its protective walls and peak around alleyways in relative tranquility. If there is chatter, it is only Italian.

My walk to Bevagna is lovely. After descending from the clouds high atop Montefalco, most of my 11 km walk is on flat terrain in glorious sunshine. My first view of Bevagna is under a brilliant blue sky. Soon after entering the walls I spot a handwritten sign in the window of a delicatessen: torta al testo. It’s a traditional Umbrian flatbread filled with meats (I choose succulent porchetta with crispy skin) and tangy marinated greens. I seek out the last of the sunlight inching across the main square to enjoy my hearty snack. This is mid-December and once inside the walls the sun disappears fast!

My walking notes suggest that sleepy Bevagna “struggles to fill in the area within its walls.” It is quiet. On the little streets that stretch out to the perimeter I am most often alone. But closer to the centre there is life. A Christmas market (mercaniti) sells handcrafted items. Men plant new greenery in large pots around the main square. One evening I hear cheers erupt from a cantina as Argentina wins the World Cup. People climb the long staircase to Teatro Torti for a live show. Kids dance and sing holiday tunes on the lower level. I am surprised at the number of shops – delis, bakeries, fruit and vegetable, cashmere and other clothing – in such a small town (about 2500 people live within the walls, another 2500 in the surrounding area). 

The main piazza, Piazza Filipino Silvestre, is special. Its lack of symmetry and varied assortment of features adds to its appeal. Water trickles out of a goblet-like vessel atop a beautiful fountain. There are not one, but two 12th century churches. Both have sparse Romanesque facades and thick carved wooden doors. An impressive staircase leads to a gothic style palace converted into a theatre; climb up for a birds eye view of this delightful piazza. A Roman column tucked to one side hints at the Roman ruins found under your feet in Bevagna. Behind this lone column the main bar-café hums with activity. This is where I have my first taste of the Italian coffee culture that becomes my routine in every town to come. A quick caffè (which is an espresso) at the bar perks me up and wards off the chill of the mist.

Ah, the mist. The sunshine is short lived. For most of my visit Bevagna is shrouded in mist. 

Like your go-to scarf to finish an outfit, the valley mist acts as a cloak to complement this medieval town. It seems to reaffirm the stillness. Accentuate the ambience. Since Bevagna is on flat ground, you aren’t there for the views outside its walls. Low lying clouds don’t interfere with getting up close and personal with Bevagna’s shady lanes and alleyways (which I learn from the street signs are called vicolo). The scent of woodsmoke wafting through the air is ever present.

It’s helpful to know a few phrases in Italian. The host at the tourist office hands me a page with some sights explained in English. Still, I understand little of the Italian tour I join but very glad to tag along. The guide shows us Roman sights I never would have found on my own. Nor could I have accessed them as you need a key.

First she leads us to an ancient Roman port below ground (it’s believed Bevagna’s port was a transportation route to Rome). She uses another key to enter the Roman Baths. The frigidarium (the bath of cold water) is well preserved. Beautiful mosaics of fantastical sea creatures adorn the floor: octopus, crustaceans, dolphins and a sea horse with a snake-like tail. This wondrous display is tucked on a little street in a seemingly unmarked location.

Later, exploring on my own, I get my second lesson on Saint Francis: his respect and care for all creatures, including animals.

In the church of San Francesco (built at the end of the 13th century) I learn of the Saint’s “sermon to the birds”, one of his best known miracles. It took place in a field outside of Bevagna. The birds, a mix of crows, doves and avocets, did not fly away but rather craned their necks and unfurled their wings as they listened intently to the Saint’s gentle words.

Tucked behind the alter of this church is a most delightful nativity scene: a miniature Bevagna. I easily recognize the sights around town, including the distinctive central Piazza with its off centre fountain and Roman column, and the very church I stand in with its gabled facade and muted green door framed by a rounded portal. Soft music plays as the lights slowly dim and turn back on. Magical.

I also listen to classic Rock and Roll in Bevagna. I have two wonderful and very different dinners. Restaurant Floyd has bright colourful chairs and classic posters of Led Zeppelin, Rolling Stones, Pearl Jam and Pink Floyd. I enjoy the delicious food and the music. The owners, husband (an exceptionally welcoming host) and wife (a great chef), named the restaurant after one of their two cats: Pink and Floyd. At the more traditional Ristorante Ottavius, I sit by the fireplace in the cosy stone dining room. My eggplant parmigiana and pillowy soft gnocchi in a rich Sagrantino wine sauce are decadent. As the gentleman checks on the fire he asks me “Di dove sei?” I ask him as well where he is from (it’s one of the few phrases I learned in Italian) and like almost everyone I meet in Bevagna, he is from Bevagna. All the way back to his “nonno.”

I am warmed by his company, the fireplace and the comforting good. Then it’s back into the misty night. The fog continues the following morning as I head out across the valley to my next stop: Spello.