I had visited Orvieto briefly several years earlier and had always wanted to go back and spend more time there. Located in the province of Umbria (lying just to the east of Tuscany), Orvieto is a classic Italian “hill town.” We arrived at the train station, eventually figured out where the car rental agency was, and before too long were following the GPS device’s instructions to our country inn just across the valley from Orvieto, called InnCasa.
After arrival and some settling in, we met on the cliffside patio of the inn for some wine, as we studied this legendary city across the valley from us. Click on this photo of Orvieto and you will see that it, like many Italian towns, is built on top of a large hill, not because life was particularly easier on top of hills 2,000 years ago, but because hills offered important strategic benefits if the city ever had to fend off invaders. National armies capable of protecting individual towns, so common in today's world, didn’t actually come along until the late Middle Ages in Europe. Do-it-yourself was any town's best survival plan. 
When the first Roman armies advanced this far north of Rome in the early expansion of their kingdom, the 500-year old Etruscan city of Orvieto was a principal obstacle. Looking down from its high city walls today, into the beautiful valleys below, one can imagine the legions camped along the facing hillsides, pondering how on Earth to take this formidable city. Why did this city present more of an obstacle than the normal Etruscan hill town? Because Orvieto, from a distance, has the look of a hill town that hit the “UP” button and increased its height several hundred more feet, all thanks to Mother Nature. It is built atop a large volcanic uplift of tufa stone that has the look of having been ejected from the surrounding countryside. It’s a hill, and then some. The sheer cliffs that surround the city offer virtual impregnability, at least in the short term. No attacker could build ladders long enough to scale these city walls, positioned as they were. Or, if they could be built, they could certainly never be lifted into place.
Although solid enough, the subsurface tufa stone was not particularly difficult to slowly hack your way through. Even in pre-Roman times, the citizens of Orvieto had been excavating into the mountain below their houses and shops, creating a maze of underground chambers, stairways and passages larger in volume than all of the man-made structures of the present day city combined. This was done principally to find sources of fresh water within the mountain, accessible at the many wellheads in the city up on the surface. More wells meant longer survival during times of an enemy's siege to the town. When well shafts failed to hit water, here and there, the "unsuccessful" excavations would simply become shafts to perfect dry, cool storage areas for salted meats, wine, cheese, and even homes for thousands of the city's pigeons (commonly used as a meat source). If you ever wondered what a "real pigeon hole" looked like, click on this photo. Fascinating tours of the Orvieto underground are available today (tickets are handed out at the tourist information office across from the the main cathedral). Looking across the valley over our glasses of chilled Orvieto Bianco, we could clearly see the great Cathedral of Orvieto silhouetted against the evening sky, as the tops of ancient buildings held onto the last of this day's sunlight.
We decided to finish our olives, cheese and wine, and then jump in the car and go have dinner in Orvieto rather than stay for dinner at the inn. How blessed it is to have a moment in your life when you can say, "Hey, let's go over to Orvieto and have dinner there tonight." So, off we went. We drove the narrow spiraling road to the top of the mountain in about 15 minutes. Parking was no problem, and from the parking lot, after a brief stroll up the street, we found ourselves in front of the magnificent front façade of the Great Cathedral of Orvieto.
It may sound trite, but “this is no ordinary cathedral” - - not by any standard. It took almost 300 years to build, through a succession of popes hiring a succession of architects to complete yet another tower or to embellish yet another system of arches. Even so, there is great unity of concept in the overall effect it has upon first viewing. With the setting sun shining into the vast gold plated ornamentations, your jaw drops, and all you can say is, "Magnificent." Clearly this is a "papal" church, not a village church. If you happened to see the recent TV series “The Tudors,” you might remember that when England's King Henry VIII
sent his ambassador to negotiate with the pope, he didn't go to Rome … instead he travels "to Orvieto." Rome was the home base of the Papal States in the Middle Ages, but the city fell periodically into the hands of invaders, like the Spanish or French. Orvieto was the pope’s traditional safe refuge, where he could hibernate in relative safety until peace could be worked out. The detail of ornamentation on the church’s front façade was breathtaking. The gold leaf seemed to be polished for a special occasion. Every inch of the surface seemed to provide a detail of design that was overwhelming, with works of art displaying the lives of Jesus, the Apostles, and, above all, Mary. That is one of the interesting distinctions of European churches and our churches in the United States. These are not so much Christian as Marian. Mary is elevated and centralized, outside and inside, as the principal focal point of religious adoration. Jesus is present, but often depicted as no more than an infant in the arms of Mary. Click on the photo of the church (above) and look carefully at the main arched pediment over the central door to this renowned cathedral -- and at the principal mosaic above that arch. That says it all, and contravenes the premise of Dan Brown’s “The Da Vinci Code” which tried to convince the reader that the Catholic Church has for centuries attempted to suppress the “mother god” or the “feminine sacred.” Hardly!
We found a wonderful little sidewalk café and ordered ample treats and wine – again, the establishment was nothing famous, but if it existed in my home city, it would be the talk of the town. How do they do it? We enjoyed our dinner as we watched the townspeople come and go. Nuns, kids, and my favorite, small clusters of old ladies who have obviously known each other their entire lives. 
Our agenda for discussion was how we would spend the next day. We would only have two “touring days” in this part of Italy and wanted to make the most of it. Of the many possibilities, I recommended we take advantage of the fact that Orvieto lies fairly close to one of the most striking little hilltop villages in the world – Civita di Bagnoregio. Walt and Brenda said it sounded perfect for our excursion, so we finished up our meal and made our way back to the country inn to get a good night’s rest.
