In the morning they left the quaint, little, Bed and Breakfast “Le Camere del Bocconcino” to climb the bridge to Civita, ‘The Dying Town’, and then continued on to Orvieto and Todi, both beautiful, hilltop towns nearby.
The following day they headed for Bolsena, then Montefiascone, then Marta, and then on to Tuscania and Tarquinia, two ‘Etruscan Queens’, the latter from where they would view and savour the sea.
In the evening they returned, only to descend from their cozy rooms into the delightful little restaurant “Il Bocconcino”, located in the same building on the ground floor facing the street, and of which the very, capable, vivacious, and ‘savoury’ chef is me, Gloria, the same charming hostess of “Le Camere”.
‘They’ are the guests of my little ‘abode’ constructed in the 1800’s and located in the heart of Bagnoregio. Their apartment, which is situated on the third floor, is unexpectedly bright, and is furnished in a warm and tasteful manner. There are four rooms, all of them lovely and airy, each with a private bathroom, and each with air conditioning and heating. The kitchen, a welcome addition, is next to the reading room where all guests may watch TV or use the computer, and an unexpected surprise is the sizeable indoor garden “a secret garden”
perfect for a respite.
A further delight is, as my guest, one will have exclusive access to the most magical place, high in the sky, an “Avatar”, called Sant’Antonio. Here one can listen to the wind of the hawks who soar magestically above the ‘Cathedral of Argil’ which emerges from the eroded clay furrows known as the ‘Calanchi’ distinctive to this spectacular valley and which have inspired the likes of JMW Turner.
From the fabric of this valley is woven my own personal, hospitable, home where nearby flows a picturesque stream and where a plethora of small, wild animals scurry joyously about with abandon, never ceasing to fascinate and charm small children.
The following morning they set off for a tour of ‘my valley’, and for each I have prepared my much requested picnic basket full of delectable, aromatic morsels, affectionately known as the “Cestino Proustiano”.