La Romita - O How I Love Her!

Where the bus dropped us off and 

picked us up each day

I woke up full of excitement on Friday June 23. This was the day I'd meet the rest of the poet pilgrims. And this was the day my adventure INSIDE of Italy would begin. 

I woke up early and sat on my little balcony outside my room in Fiumicino (which means "little river) and pondered, "Here I am on the banks of the famous Tiber River! Sheila? Whatever are you doing here, girlfriend?!" 

Meanwhile, I watched the wharf begin to wake up and bustle with activity...fishermen began to arrive, motors began to hum and chug, and voices began to lift to my balcony seat. Italy was coming to life.

Finally it was time to take my luggage down to meet the shuttle and leave again for the airport, this time to meet my new "family" for the next 10 days. It was good to see Richard, Somae and Jodie again, then to meet new friends: Donna, Sarah, Tonya, Nancy, and Cathie. Eight women and one man - but there's no better man to take 8 women to Italy than Richard!

Our driver, Raniero, and the art teacher, Nina, arrived with the bus and off we went! Destination La Romita Art School in Terni, Umbria. Umbria! Umbria is an Italian region bordering Tuscany, Lazio and Le Marche. Often called the country's green heart, it’s known for its medieval hill towns, dense forests and local cuisine, particularly foraged truffles and wines. 

As we drove from Rome, I loved watching the landscape change. There were the beautiful cypress trees that always make me think, "Italy", but there were also umbrella pines, olive groves, hills, mountains, and hilltop cities everywhere. There are a lot of fault lines throughout Umbria and there have been many earthquakes there, so the land is beautifully rugged - never a straight line anywhere (except maybe the rows in the vineyards and sunflower fields). It's a beautiful land, a feast for the eyes.

About an hour and a half later, we arrived in Terni. I can only tell you that it was as if electricity flowed through my body for head to toe, and every hair on my arms and the back of my neck stood up as we entered Terni's city limits. It amazed me how emotional I got, as my eyes filled with tears. It was as if I was home. And I experienced that same emotional response as we arrived at La Romita. I could feel the ancient walls of La Romita welcome me home.

Raniero dropped us and our luggage off and the gardner whisked our bags off to our rooms. We only had time for a quick face washing and one glimpse out the window before it was time for lunch.

View from upstairs landing

My room with a view - 

home for the next 10 days

One of my favorite treats 

was to open and close these windows 

every morning and evening. Pure joy!

Our first time to "break bread" together

After a beautiful lunch, Edmund took us on the grand tour of La Romita, giving us a little history of the place and adding his own flair and humor. He was a delight the whole time we were there, pure gift to the place.

Meet Edmund, "the man" of La Romita.

He's been with them forever and 

is one of their greates assets 

(the others are the cooks and the gardners!)

O, and the owners aren't too shabby either! 

Wonderful people!

La Romita was once a monastary

and this was the church. Imagine painting

for two weeks inside this sacred space!

A feast of color in the main courtyard. 

They have an awesome gardner!

The formal gardens on the other side of the church.

Sally, the cat. We got to be friends!

After a tour, we unpacked and napped, and truth be told, the rest of the day is a blur. I think the poet pilgrims got together for their first time and just met. Richard talked - I think he may have shared this poem with us...one of my favorites of the trip.

Walker, It Is Your Footsteps

Walker your footsteps

are the road, and nothing more.

Walker, there is no road,

the road is made by walking.

Walking you make the road,

and turning to look behind

you see the path you never

again will step upon.

Walker, there is no road,

only foam trails on the sea.

by Antonio Machado, translated by Willis Barnstone

and he may have shared this one from Mary Oliver, one of my favorite poets:

The Journey

One day you finally knew

what you had to do, and began,

though the voices around you

kept shouting

their bad advice - 

though the whole house

began to tremble

and you felt the old tug 

at your ankles,

"Mend my life!"

each voice cried.

But you didn't stop.

You knew what you had to do,

though the wind pried 

with its stiff fingers

at the very foundations,

though their melancholy

was terrible.

It was already late

enough, and a wild night,

and the road full of fallen

branches and stones.

But little by little

as you left their voices behind,

the stars began to burn

through the sheets of clouds,

and there was a new voice

which you slowly 

recognized as your own,

that kept you company

as you strode deeper and deeper

into the world,

determined to do

the only thing you could do - 

determined to save

the only life you could save.

Tomorrow, San Gemini and our first writing adventure together.