Sketching in Assisi

I love drawing in Assisi. Narrow, medieval alleyways. Two hilltop castles. A church on every corner. Plentiful walls, benches and stair steps to sit on. Dramatic views over the Umbrian farmland below, or up beyond the city into the depths of Mount Subiaso Park.

The morning yoga view from our B&B.

Sara and I have seen many artists painting or sketching here. Lucca has a major art school but we didn’t see anyone out sketching the city itself. Ten minutes after we arrived in Assisi, we met watercolor painters from Australia, Maria and Geraldine. In the days since, we’ve seen several urban sketchers out and about.

After Assisi, Maria and Geraldine are traveling to Fabriano for one of the world’s most famous watercolor shows. Maria’s paintings have represented Australia in three past exhibitions (mariafieldart.com).

The light here is incredible. The past few days have seemed to be constantly in magic hour. I’ll have to add color to some of my sketches later. There’s simply too much to draw and only so long I can ask Sara to walk around in circles with Wombat.

I’m not the only one who has noticed Assisi is a popular destination for sketching and painting. While I was drawing on the steep hillside below Rocca Maggiore (the big castle), a harried-looking tour group trudged past my position at the side of the road.

My sketch of Rocca Maggiore.

I felt some curious eyes on me, so I prepared myself for some looky-loos. The most common variety likes to admire my sketches by standing directly in between me and what I am trying to sketch. “You don’t mind if I watch, do you?” If they linger, they might mention their son/daughter/grandchild/vague acquaintance is also an artist. “Have you heard of them?”

My favorite looky-loos are those who mistake me for an Italian and have an entire conversation about me in English (mostly complimentary), then give me a thumbs up and a heartfelt “Molto Boner.”

But I wasn’t fully prepared to hear: “Christ. Another damn artist.” In a beautifully thick, if slightly out of breath, Texas accent.

Now, I’ve spent a good part of my life in Texas. My first thought was this man was teasing me. But he definitely wasn’t. No sign of humor when I glanced up. This poor man was clearly too far from his cruise ship buffet.

I have decided to make a t-shirt to shock those of his ilk from their black moods. Emblazoned across the front and back (with perhaps splashes of tie-die): Yes, another damn artist in picturesque Italy. Accomplished, consummate, elitist tourists since 1670. Approach with caution, or an offering of apertivi and snacks.

But enough meta-silliness (tourist complaining about the behavior of another tourist). Let’s have some more sketches of Assisi!

For those of you who might be missing footnotes…

See: The Voyage of Italy, by Richard Lassels, 1670, Paris and London. The t-shirt above represents a self-serving corruption of his “Grand Tour” idea.

Personally, I blame painters like Mary Cassat and John Singer Sargent for this recent (relatively, as in more likely to follow Baedecker than Pausanias) plague of tourist-artists in Italy. Within the current century, perhaps Nathan Fowkes and Gabriel Campanario (the originator of urban sketching).

Come to think of it, all that’s a bit too lofty for Sara and me. Just serve us a nice pasta and put on Under The Tuscan Sun. We’re pretty much halfway to the airport.

If we really want to put on airs, we might claim that E.M. Forster’s A Room With a View has inspired our trip. Especially the Merchant Ivory film. Here is where the birds sing! Here is where the sky is blue!

Come to think of it, my Texas friend could probably use a dose of the eternal “Yes!” Then again, the sight of Mr. Beebe bathing could well cause the poor man’s head to explode.

Rainy Days In Lucca

Drizzly weather our first week in Lucca. The medieval wall is my favorite sight so far, and I don’t mean that in a disparaging way. The delightful, car free, two-and-three-quarter miles walk around the top of the wall is something I wish every city had.

The tree-lined path at the top is wide enough for bikes, walkers, runners, and wayward dogs to share. There is plenty of shade and cool grass. Benches and water fountains are plentiful. The wall is restful and high enough it feels removed from the city below. The walk features constantly changing views in and outside of the old town. Green Tuscan hills and mountains frame the views in the distance.

The old town within the walls is fun to walk through without any sort of agenda or plan. We have attempted to get lost a few times but the old city isn’t really big enough to stay lost for long. Still, you can wander for several miles down the twisty medieval streets.

Front door of San Michele.

Alley view from Cafe Turandot.

The weather has been too rainy and chilly to sit and draw for very long. I hope to sketch more after Easter.

As soon as the weather did break, we climbed one of Lucca’s famous towers: Torre Guinigi. Trees have been growing at the top since the Renaissance. The views are stunning.

We have also been enjoying the local produce. Lucca is in a major agricultural region. Around the corner from our apartment is an amazing produce-focussed grocery store. The walls are stacked floor to ceiling with fresh produce.

Meal planning goes like this: Walk along the wall to the best foccaciaria in Lucca for breakfast (hummus and grilled vegetable foccacia with chickpea cecina and coffee). Wander back to the produce market. See what looks good or smells good, stuff a bunch of it into little paper bags, then ask the “vegetable concierge” what kind of pasta we should try with our selection of random vegetables.

Tomatoes that taste like tomatoes. Carrots that taste like carrots. Huge malformed bell peppers that make me think I didn’t know what a bell pepper was supposed to taste like. So many kinds of mushrooms. More garlic than we have eaten in the last year. Fresh crispy asparagus. Arugula. Cannellini.

Between the rain, the foccaciaria, and our local produce market, Sara and I have gained a few pounds since hiking in Cinque Terre.

Corniglia Balcony Sketches

The skies cleared after a rainy morning. I spent the rest of the day sketching on the apartment’s roof deck (in between breaks for dog walks, focaccia, farinata, and vegan gelato).

Magical Italian Tomatoes

This is the prettiest tomato we have found in Corniglia. The ones we have already eaten bulged out in odd places and had worrisome dark spots. But so tasty! When you simmer them for a while with olive oil and fresh basil they get creamy.

We’re a little afraid to eat this “pretty” one today. It has the waxy, tasteless look of a tomato back home. Perhaps we will go back to the market and trade it for an uglier one.

(Also, we’re a little in love with these fish plates.)

Hiking the Cinque Terre

Sara and I bought the Cinque Terre card and were able to hike all of the trails we wanted over four days. The card is only good for three consecutive days, but only the coastal trails require it.

The trails go in and out of terraced farmland. Compared with many trails in the states, these are very well-marked. There are many signs and red and white stripes are painted on rocks and stone walls so you don’t end up wandering through someone’s lemon grove.

This trail started out easy. These are old trails. Many sections are paved with stone—which is nice, but not the softest surface to walk on.

It didn’t take long before we were climbing uphill.

And further uphill. Up very steep stairs.

We had stunning views of Corniglia below.

After the first hour, Sara decided there is a limit to how many stairs a person can take before second breakfast!

So… many… stairs…

Wombat, who might have more sense than us, decided to take a break in some nice cool grass.

But, lo! Salvation! A half-way cafe with fancy lemon and pomegranate mocktails!

Refreshed, we enjoyed the stunning view from the top of the crest.

A walk in the clouds.

Of course, what goes up must come down. This is where my injured heel really started bothering me. I stole both of the hiking poles for a while. Let’s just say that stone is not the preferred surface when you have a bone bruise.

But we made it. Wombat and I struck our triumphant poses!

We wandered around town for a bit, then took the train back to Corniglia for a lounge on our deck. (Yeah, Sara finds really good places to stay.)

Was there a better way to finish our long day of hiking than a glass of local wine and the sunset? I think not.

The ups and downs of hiking here.

The Cinque Terre is stunningly beautiful. The trails are extremely well-maintained. The terraced farms are impressive to say the least. The coastal trails, at least, are within most people’s ability to hike. (I can’t say the same for the mountain trails.) And there are refreshments!

However, there are some things to be aware of. While the mountain trails are free, the coastal trails require an entry fee. Sara and I opted for the 3-consecutive-day Cinque Terre card, but even in the shoulder season the price is steeper than you might expect. One day passes are ridiculously expensive.

On the last of our three consecutive days we ended up descending a steep and slippery slope in pouring rain. We almost beat the storm, but not quite. More experienced hikers might not have a problem with the slippery rocks, but the hike down wasn’t our favorite experience. At times, it was terrifying. At many places the narrow trails overlook a cliff. This provides a great view, but in bad weather…

The narrow trails were also crowded with hikers. Sara and I can only imagine how packed the trails must be during the high season. I didn’t include pictures of the crowds. Most of the hikers seemed to be high school tour groups (we counted one group at over 200 kids). As a former high school teacher I chose not to mark the memory with pictures.

I had intended to do some sketching on the trails, but there weren’t many places to step out of the crowd’s way.

That isn’t to say we didn’t have stretches of the trail to ourselves. Wombat might be in good shape (she bounded up those stairs like a mountain goat), but Sara and I aren’t used to this kind of steep hiking. Let’s just say we chose to take these trails at a leisurely pace.

A last-minute packing change…

It’s hard to believe we leave for Europe in less than a week!

Sara and I have been planning this trip for the last three years—about as long as we’ve had Wombat, our little chihuahua-something. Somewhere along the way, we made the decision we wouldn’t take any trips without her. So she’s coming. Which has added a few complications and taken up a third of our luggage space. But could you leave this face behind?

Ironically, Wombat is not the one causing our last-minute packing issues. No, dear friends, that honor belongs to moi. Through a combination of clumsiness and vanity.

Clumsiness

First, let’s talk about lack of coordination. I split my ankle open in February and gave myself an nice little bone bruise. Five stitches, four of them doubled up. I’ll leave it to you to consider how I managed to do this while swimming. What can I say? I have a talent.

Anyway… I just started wearing proper shoes again last week. So comfortable. Nothing like constant pressure on an ankle bruise beneath partially healed skin. As we have quite a bit of hiking planned for this trip, that means a treasure trove of moleskin, kinesiology tape, bandages, compression wraps, and various physical therapy devices including a full size yoga mat.

We will be checking a bag, which we hate to do. A small yoga bag. And I do mean small, because our entire luggage burden needs to remain train-friendly. But bonus! Those hiking poles slowly rusting in the back of our closet are coming with us! And Wombat’s food is stuffed inside my rolled up yoga mat! It’s almost like I did everyone a favor by getting injured. (I’m going with that.)

Vanity

For the last decade I have sketched almost exclusively with grey markers on toned paper. I like this method. I’m good with markers. And if I’m going to share pictures… well, you know. I like to share the good ones.

But… I don’t know. Sometime around Thanksgiving I started to get a little bored with the markers. Sara was playing with a set of colored pencils. She was drawing maps in her journal with them. It looked fun. She wasn’t worried about perfection. She was playing. I wanted to play too. (I mean, maps. My inner 16-year-old Dungeon Master was drooling.)

And yet, I resisted. I haven’t used colored pencils since 1998. Not colored ones. I have been known to sketch with a black one from time to time. Maybe a burnt sienna if I was feeling a touch of Renaissance. But, ooh, color. More than one color at the same time. Mindblowing. So deliciously yummy.

Yeah.

Vanity. Definitely my favorite sin. (Hey look! An Al Pacino quote!) When Sara and I did a test pack, I included the markers. So safe. So comfortable. So not playful. I’m not proud of it.

Seneca would have sadly shaken his head at me. How far from the path I have fallen. Oh, Lucilius! He warned Lucilius that travel wouldn’t fix his life. To paraphrase Seneca: wherever you go, there you are (and you thought it was Buckaroo Banzai). Problems in your life won’t change with the scenery. At best, a trip presents an opportunity to try something new. But you have to take advantage of that on your own. Not everyone does that. Perhaps not even most.

No judgement. I love a good roller coaster. I binge-watched Lidia Poët in preparation for this trip (Ammazza! The clothes!). I like a good beach read—even when there isn’t a beach. Sometimes you need a break. Have a Kit Kat.

But I don’t want to be afraid of playing around with ink pens and colored pencils simply because I’m already good with markers. So, it’s off to the art store for new supplies! Damn you, Seneca!

I sketched a quick palette in my new journal. No more beloved toned paper. Then again, new art supplies! (I even got a new pencil case, not pictured.)

Here’s the new kit:

• Moleskine art journal (the paper’s smooth and ink doesn’t bleed through)
• Small yellow Leuchtturm pocket journal
• Pigma Micron pens (01, 08, Brush)
• Faber-Castell Pitt Big Brush Pen
• Jelly Roll white pen
• Bic ballpoint pens (yummy)
• Prismacolor Landscape Set
• Olfa knife (because many of the Prismacolor leads are too soft for my long-point sharpener)
• Sandpaper and drywall screen (because if I have to carve pencil tips…)

I’m not taking the ruler. Not even sure why that’s in the picture. These sketches are going to be loose, sloppy, unconstructed, and playful. At least, that’s my intention. You’ll have to let me know after ten weeks.

Thankfully, these are about the same weight as my markers. I get to keep my extra pair of pants! Take that, 17 lbs carry-on limit on Lufthansa!