Waving from Orvieto . . .

First, Happy Thanksgiving weekend to my fellow Canadians. No turkeys, cranberry sauce, nor gravy for us here, but I did have a scoop of pumpkin gelato this afternoon . . .

This trip has begun well, beautiful summery weather, and we had some perfect days at our daughter and son-in-law’s home, visited a few new-to-us Roman neighbourhoods, heard about our granddaughter’s school days, enjoyed meals together. But I knew before we left home that we’d want to give “the kids” some time on their own over the weekend (they’ve had a very busy September, and October’s continuing the trend). So I’d booked us a few days in Orvieto in the B&B where I sat with my damaged ankle elevated last spring, and only once managed to get up the hill through the olive grove for a brief peek at the Centro Storico.

I’ve done much better this visit — except now the problem is that we’re out walking and seeing (and eating!) so much that I’m not finding time to post here (I’m doing a bit better on Instagram). And having finally carved a few hours out of this weekend, I’ve come perilously close to pressing Delete on the whole post a few times. What I have time to write seems too slight to stand on its own, but if I wait to “do it right,” I suspect I won’t end up posting for much longer. Part of the problem is that this trip has a different rhythm than my preferred Slow Travel, and I’ve not had the solo/quiet time I’m used to. I’m adjusting — and change can be good for us, right? — but meanwhile, I beg your patience.

I do have one delightful story to tell you, so I’ll start there, shall I? Picture Paul and I walking through Orvieto as dusk approaches, just a bit weary after an afternoon getting our bearings, exploring the winding streets, ogling the wares in the windows, checking out the duomo, getting a few photos for the blog and even (me) managing a bit of sketching. We’re looking for a place to eat, trying to decide if we want to eat another meal at a restaurant or might prefer just to get take-out and head back to our room. As we walk out of a narrow street into a piazza, we slow a bit to consider the restaurants on either side of us, and as we do, I hear an unlikely address, “Frances! Frances Sprout!”

Astonished to hear my name in this small hill-top city where we know only our lovely B&B host, I turn in the direction of the voice and instantly recognize long-time Social Media friend (whom I’ve never met in, as they say, IRL) Suon and her husband. Suon recognized us from blog and Instagram photos — amusingly, she spotted me by the back of my head, the telltale grey curls. And Paul enjoys a growing celebrity thanks to my “Socials,” it seems ;-). . . In fact, I did know that they were in Italy and have been following their trip on her Instagram, but I had no idea they were heading to Orvieto. As you might guess, we invited ourselves to their table and followed their lead in sharing a pizza of our own. What a treat of an evening getting to know them and exchanging travel tales.

Now, let me rely on photos to show you a bit of what we’ve been up to.

Above, one Paul took of me as we headed out Friday afternoon. I’m so glad I switched this dress into my “capsule” before we left. Summer linens are very much de rigueur here in this heat (although I do wish I’d made room for my slip (cotton lawn, wouldn’t have taken much space at all and would have allowed me to stand with the sun behind me worry-free!)

A few photos of the magnificent Duomo here in its commanding setting. The black and white stripes are very similar to Siena’s (I need to research which was begun first, was one inspired by the other, etc.) but with its own stunning architectural ornamentation. At least, ornamentation in terms of its aesthetic appeal, but of course it’s also offering a wealth of narration and instruction while it delights the eye.

An example of the mesmerisingly beautiful ornamentation as it draws the eye up to the heavens. . . .

A close-up of one small section — so many motifs here, patterns and colour combinations to savour.

The inside is much simpler than that of Siena’s cathedral, but that simplicity is effective and allows elements to shine — sunlight filtered through stained glass, landing on striped stone walls, for example.

Outside, a nun points out elements or explains aspects of a Biblical story as told in this elaborate 14th-century bas-relief panel, one of several across the duomo’s front façade.

And of course, I love the humbler, more intimate corners as well . . .

And I’m trying to work my way to capturing some of those in my sketchbook. I’ve posted a few pages on Instagram already, pleased just to have filled one every day. Intimidated by that blank white space, I followed a tip I picked up in one of Koosje Koene’s Draw Tips Tuesday videos. I put my trusty glue stick to work, collaging fragments of paper paraphenalia collected through a travel day, and then drawing and painting around the shapes those fragments made on the page.

I liked the way that loosened me up for the first page (although I wasn’t happy with the heaviness of the blue marker), so I went ahead and “prepared” the next few pages in the same way. I was delighted with the results for my second day, and quite happy as well with the third.

But while I quite like parts of this fourth page in my sketchbook, I find the bottom third a bit of a dog’s breakfast in terms of appearance — although it still functions well to prompt my sensory memories of the day. . .

The time I spent in the late afternoon sun staring at the contours of those hills, tracing the trees’ march up a hillside and paying attention to the different shapes, colours, and tesxtures of the fields, spotting the houses and farm buildings nestled discreetly behind a grove of poplars. . . Also the way a patch of red Caran d’Ache Neo-colour crayon got mucked up by some misplaced water (!) . . . and had to be covered up with some paper lacework. . .

What I’ve reminded myself is that while this is, yes, a Travel Journal that I might want to share, it’s also a Sketchbook, a place where it’s okay for me to try out different tools and papers and composition. The pages are mine to make mistakes in and learn along the way. Yesterday’s page, I’ve decided for now, is the last one I’ll prepare with collage ahead of time. . . but it’s also a page I’m very pleased with.

I told Paul an hour and a half ago that I wanted to get this post finished before we went for dinner. Since then, the sun’s almost set, and the restaurant we’re hoping to find a table at opens in twenty minutes. Time to get ready and head up the hill. . . . Waving to you as I go. . .

Perhaps you’ll wave back? I’m not likely to respond to comments while we’re travelling, at least not in a timely manner, but I will definitely be reading, enjoying, and appreciating them.

xo,

f