First, I owe the gentle readers of my blog a bit of explication for the dramatic stylistic change in the last post wherein the author refers ponderously to herself as Elsbeth M. Collins. You probably figured out that I didn’t pen that blog. Yes, the content rings true, the experiences mine, but the difference in form and style should be evident to any reader. Allow me to offer a word of explanation. My publisher sold me a wonderful marketing feature called Blogmaster where they said they would provide twenty-four blogs to help me be more regular in my posting. When I pointedly asked if they would invoke AI to generate them, I was told no. (Here you can see the real author’s eyebrow raising itself in doubt.) At any rate, they will appear periodically (about every two weeks) to fill out my regular blogging rate and theoretically/hopefully boost your interest in my BOOK! As usual, I welcome any feedback.
Anyone who has followed this blog knows by now that I live an extremely blessed life. I have the greatest good fortune to find myself yet again in Civitella Del Lago, Umbria. This time, I managed to arrive with my suitcase and so did not necessitate an emergency shopping trip to the coop in Orvieto to buy toothpaste and pajamas. The flight, a mere eleven hours and forty minutes direct from Los Angeles, was yet another boon of coming directly to Italy rather than via Croatia, as my last trip in 2024 demanded.
My ever solicitous friends Bob and Sally have agreed to host me, shepherd me, feed me and generally indulge me for TEN days, after which point we may never speak again; I think rather that we will sail through with the only encumbrance being my inability to return the favor in this lifetime. Here is a picture of Bob, our intrepid driver on all of our adventures. He manages the hair-raising winding roads around Umbria with precision and grace and their rental car’s safety grading system which he seems to have mastered, getting nothing less than a 96.
The first morning after my arrival, we went from the Casalone in Scoppieta to the Palazzo in Civitella Del Lago where their long time friends Marina and Carlo live. Marina invited us for coffee and we sat on the balcony overlooking the bell tower of the town, which chimed at eleven AM an appropriate eleven times. It is beastially hot here in June, but the cool stone and well-placed shutters at Casalone and most indoor spaces keep the interior temperatures habitably cool during the day.
The first night, after going to bed at about 9:00PM, I awoke three times. During the 3:39AM awakening, I remembered the bounty of the Umbrian sky and pulled open the shutters, only to be faced with the Big Dipper, in all it’s splendor, resting gently right outside the window atop the treeline. I didn’t have my glasses on, so the stars had a larger than usual shape, certainly brighter than usual (light pollution in Los Angeles means we get no star visibility) appearance. It is truly magical here, overlooking the olive orchard and across the valley, Civitella on its hilltop overlooking the lake is a spectacular sight.
After our coffee on the terrace, we drove into Orvieto; I was intent on acquiring the ingredients for my coffee cake. I’ve just popped it in the oven (day 3) and it was a bit of a science experiment, because baking soda and baking powder are not on the menu here. We found a few leavening agents, and so included one of them in the cake (I think it was bread yeast and no, I didn’t patiently wait the 2/3 ora for it to rise). The dance around the table in the tiny kitchen and the unfamiliarity of the stove and how it heats should be a recipe for disaster a very interesting version of this cake. Hold and by the end of this blog I can report.
Every meal here until the tasting of this coffee cake has been fabulous. The pastas are brilliant whether adorned with a simple meat sauce, or flecks of zucchini, as at the Belvedere last night, where we were the guests of Marina and Carlo. The Belvedere is a restaurant started by Sergio, a native of Civitella, who also sells antique maps and books, but recognized the need for a restaurant in his home town and is doing a great business.
But I’m getting ahead of myself. Day 2, after the shopping and a simple lunch of foccacia pizza, we napped (a necessary and very civilized daily ritual) and at 4:30, were invited to friend Ouida’s house, which is nestled on the side of a hill below the city of Civitella, overlooking the lake. She has a beautiful swimming pool with a surrounding terrace, and her collection of rubber ducks grace the poolside. She says she doesn’t collect them; regardless, they congregate poolside.
She had very thoughtfully featured the stage manager duck, pencil over it’s ear, headphones over its ears. (What a gracious host!)
The newest poolside feature is a small refrigerator with bar supplies. We had cool drinks poolside, I had a delicious boxed pear/apple juice, and then we retired to another patio adjacent to her charming bungalow for real drinks under a night jasmine bower and a lovely terrace dinner as the sun went down over the lake. Fresh tagliatelle and a beautiful sauce, a fresh green salad that tasted like it had only left the earth minutes before. The sun went down about 8:45PM and the ravenous gnats moved us inside for desert – a butter cake with fresh apricot jamb and a spirited conversation about how to end world hunger. I hadn’t been familiar with the concept of settlement houses which provide housing and food, mental health and social services. Bob’s career with the New York Community Trust intersected with the ten Settlement houses in New York. I don’t know how I was unaware of this solution, as it is exactly what is needed in Los Angeles. It was glorious!
The next day, we piled into the car at 9:00AM to visit the hillside town of Montefalco. This was about an hour drive through the hills and valleys of Umbria, which is a very special drive. Just about any direction you look you will see another medieval hillside town pop up. Montefalco has a museum/church filled with remnants of 15th century frescoes in the cathedral, and a museum gallery ranging from 14th-19th century relics.
In addition, because Montefalco is “La Città di Vino” and also “La Città di Olio” there is, in the basement an exhibit of grape and olive presses from throughout the eras.
Another gallery in the basement featured the spectacular photos of National Geographic photographer Steve McCurry in an exhibit which was supposed to have closed on May 3, 2026, but fortunately for us, was still there. You would recognize his work from this iconic photograph from National Geographic.
“Most of my pictures are grounded in people. I look for the unguarded moment, the essential soul peeking out, experience etched on a person’s face. I try to convey what it is like to be that person, a person caught in a broader landscape that I guess you’d call the human condition.”
– Steve McCurry
On exhibit in Montefalco was McCurry’s collection of Umbrian photos, he having lived in Montefalco for a time. His photos of Umbria, capture the bright and clear Umbrian light and are so frequently candid of his subjects, framed in this magnificent scenery with an extraordinary eye – gorgeous! To think we almost missed the McCurry exhibit but saw his book in the lobby and retraced our steps back down through the museum. Well worth the double steps involved. You can find information about the exhibit here which has been extended through July 5, 2026.
A word to add about my charming hosts. Being with the Edgars is so easy. The quote above from Steve McCurry captures the pleasure of being with them. Our conversations are fluid and current, except when we are in a church looking at the ceiling by Fra Angelico (Orvieto Cathedral). We frequently find the same things droll or silly. That’s what I remember so fondly about Bob as a teacher. From his quick agreement to open the door to two students asking for coffee before chapel, to his enthusiastic embrace of playing a MisterRogers record at our behest, he has always been game and humble, modeling humanity. We could and did discuss world affairs while listening to the classical music station, but we weren’t beyond breaking into a chorus of “Your body’s fancy and so is mine!” That sounds extraordinarily inappropriate but it wasn’t; we were silly teens who (I can only speak for myself here) had rarely encountered an adult willing to find and share joy in juvenile things. We’ve talked on this trip about how one (a teacher) now couldn’t be so free as to open the door and let students into his/her apartment for coffee before chapel, but those were simpler times and danger certainly wasn’t on any of our minds. Nor is it now. What a gift to be here with friends like them. Every day is an adventure!
lifeinthethe8tre 