Civita, a Miniature Medieval Hilltown

Nothing had prepared me for the moment I crested the hill at the top of the town of Bagnoregio and saw the miniature Italian hilltown of Civita perched on its little tufa pinnacle in an undersized version of the Grand Canyon. Below, the long, narrow pedestrian causeway lined with globed lamps crossed the gorge to the little town. It was probably a quarter-mile hike across the causeway, up the steps, and through the gate in the fortifications. I found a medieval wonderland preserved largely intact for hundreds of years. Interiors have been modernized, but outside everything maintains its historic look. The town is all sandy-colored blocks of stone, gray cobbles, and thick wooden doors.

There were no big sights here, but every view had its delights, as artfully careless as a flower arrangement. I wandered in slow motion and soaked up the ambiance. What would it be like living here in the Middle Ages or the Renaissance, safe in this aerie? At the opposite end of town from the gate, the "back door" leads to a footpath down to the valley floor far below. From here there are magnificent views of the eroded gorges behind Civita. This so resembles the American West, it could be a location for one of Leone’s spaghetti westerns.

This little pinnacle, once much larger, has hosted a town since Etruscan times. A catastrophic earthquake in 1695 caused many people to leave Civita. Subsequent earthquakes led to continuing landslides and the erosion of the pinnacle. A whole palazzo collapsed into the gorge centuries ago, leaving only a beautiful gate to nowhere (on your right soon after you enter the town).

The best visit would be to arrive in the late afternoon to get a snapshot of the town in its best light, have a lingering dinner at Antico Forno, and stay at Franco’s B&B (see entries below). There is only the nightlife you create yourself. Civita is magical in the moonlight, and the whole town is so quiet you can hear eternity breathing. This must have been what things were like in the days before electricity. You’ll hardly believe the chaos of Rome is an hour’s drive away. Have your breakfast, enjoy another leisurely stroll of the town in the bright light of morning, jump in your car, and head off to bustling modern Italy. You won’t soon forget your memorable night in peaceful, medieval Civita.

Quick Tips:

If you want to stay at Franco’s B&B, reservations are advisable because there are no other alternatives in Civita, and Bagnoregio’s options are nowhere near as charming.

If you want a great photo of the entire town from the Bagnoregio side of the causeway (highly recommended if you’re into photos), try to arrive late in the afternoon on a sunny day. In the morning, the town is badly backlit. Unfortunately, I have only been here on two mornings before 10am and one evening when it was very overcast!

Best Way To Get Around:

Within Civita, you have no choice: you must walk. The town is most easily reached by car, which you can park across from the causeway or down the hill just below the first stretch of the causeway. It is also possible to get to Bagnoregio by bus and walk a half-mile or so (moderately uphill) through Bagnoregio to the causeway.

You’ll only find Civita listed on the most detailed of maps. Don’t worry as long as you can find Bagnoregio (a little south of Orvieto and a little west of the Florence-Rome autostrada). Once you get to Bagnoregio, a very small town itself, the way to Civita is well-marked.

If you want to spend the night in Civita (and I really recommend it), Franco's B&B, with a literal handful of rooms, is the sole place in town. Fortunately, while simple, it's a sweet little place. Franco and his wife Luana provide a warm welcome. All the rooms are on the second floor and overlook the main piazza and the church. The beds are comfortable and the rooms are furnished with rustic simplicity. The bathrooms are functional, but not spacious or sleek. On a beautiful summer evening, you can sit at the open window and count the stars. In the morning, you can watch the little town slowly awaken from the same vantage. Breakfast is served at the Antico Forno restaurant.

Franco is fluent in English and a dynamo, holding down a job in Orvieto as well as running the B&B and the Antico Forno Restaurant in Civita (see below under Dining). Luana knows less English but works hard to converse. You will probably be given Franco's cell phone to call when you arrive, or alternatively you will meet up at the Antico Forno restaurant (below) to be walked through the piazza to your room. When we arrived earlier than expected, Luana invited us to sit in the restaurant (Antico Forno, below) and treated us to a soft drink. With the help of a phrasebook, we were able to have a little chat about where we had been, where we were going, and why we liked Italy. She also told us, "Americans are kind." Well, you don't hear that everywhere about Americans on the road. Evidently Civita brings out the best in its visitors.

Franco's e-mail is .

If you aren't able to get a room at Franco's, you can try Al Boschetto (address: Strada Monterado, Bagnoregio/Viterbo, phone 0761-792-369, $50-75). I last stayed here in 1995, so my review is dated. Al Boschetto more closely resembles a traditional Italian inn. It is located just outside Bagnoregio on the road to Viterbo. It was scrub-brush clean, redolent of bleach, basic, but adequate, run by Angelo and his lively sons. The rooms were stark but bright, and the view from the windows is of lovely fields. Bagnoregio is the little town from which you reach Civita; this place is perhaps 3 miles from Civita. Al Boschetto also has a restaurant attached which offers adequate but unexciting food.

Voluble and lively Franco Sala, who runs Franco's B&B, also runs Civita's only restaurant. But just because it doesn't have competition doesn't mean it isn't good. Franco cooks while his wife Luana serves. If it's not busy, they may very well join you at your table for a friendly visit as you digest your dinner. In summer, meals are served in as delightful a little outdoor courtyard as I've ever seen, shaded under a spreading tree. The tables even have stereotypical red-and-white-checked tablecloths. There is a rather more formal indoor dining room for when the weather isn't conducive to outdoor dining. There isn't a menu; you eat whatever Franco's fixing that day.

My 12-year-old son and I were served a tasty pasta dish, sausages, and a salad. Dessert was a wonderful panna cotta with caramel sauce. Panna cotta, which we had never tried before, is a rich, creamy molded sort of pudding that's somewhat like custard, but it also contains gelatin. It is always served with berries or a sauce. We've had some versions here at home, but nothing to top our first experience of this marvelous dessert. Or, perhaps, it must be eaten on a balmy August evening under the tree on Franco's courtyard to reach perfection!

The Church of San Donato is the only "sight" in Civita, if it can be called that. Located according to tradition on the Main Piazza, it isn't elegant or ornate. It boasts no great art, famous relics, or fabulous stained glass, and it's on no one's list of significant architectural achievements. It resembles in architectural style many of the Renaissance churches of Florence, but it is utterly stark and unadorned. Inside it's dim and simple, with a faint damp and chalky smell. Nonetheless, it's a very old building, and it's a heartfelt place. There is a leisurely restoration project proceeding at the glacial pace of much Italian reconstruction, hindered in part by very limited funds.

We happened to be in Civita on San Donato's feast day, August 17. San Donato of Ripacandida was a Benedictine monk who died in 1198 at the age of 19. His feast day is celebrated in a tradition unique, so far as I know, to Umbria, the infiorata. This involves making elaborate designs with flower petals and leaves on the floor of the church. All the petals and leaves must be from native plants in their natural colors. Most of the dim aisles were filled with beautiful arrangements which, even when simple, must have taken quite a while to assemble. This is nowhere near as elaborate as a similar annual festival held in Spello in June. For Spello's infiorata, which draws crowds of tourists, designs are laid out over many of the town's streets in a competition; those judged winners are honored by being trod over as part of the holy procession to the church. Civita's much simpler festival, however, is for Civita alone.

Parco dei Mostri (or Sacro Bosco), Bomarzo {between Civita and Viterbo)
0761-92-40-29
Open 8am to sunset

When his beloved wife died, an Indian maharajah built the Taj Mahal. When Julia Farnese, wife of Vicino Orsini, died, Orsini built . . . the Monster Park. This eccentric construction makes you wonder if Orsini was driven mad with grief, taking some interesting Renaissance drugs, or maybe making an underhanded statement about what he really thought of his wife. Strangely enough, the sculptures are the work of the same sculptors who did St. Peter's with Michelangelo!

It's hard to square these bizarre sculptures with their late Renaissance time period – the park was built between 1552 and 1580. The first structure you see is a little temple built to commemorate Julia, and it's by far the most normal thing you'll see during your visit. The most famous construction is a sort of monster cavern, a huge face frozen in what looks like open-mouthed fright. You can walk through the mouth into the cavern, where there is a stone table and benches. I guess Orsini liked to have a picnic here once in a while – although it's rather dark and gloomy. There's a woman standing on a turtle, which is strange enough before you notice it's titled "Winged Victory." Perhaps Orsini had a vision of turtles flying? There's a two-tailed mermaid, an elephant, a dragon, a giant fish, a winged horse, a crazily tilted tower. You wonder what sort of fever dreams inspired them!

The park is not exactly lovingly tended. Most of the sculptures are situated under trees, which causes them to be picturesquely sun-dappled, but also less picturesquely mossy. Compared to nearly every other historic sight in Italy, this one is quite accessible to be touched, photographed, even climbed on. This may be the only artwork from the 1600s that no one is trying to preserve!

The park is a great place to bring kids because it is very informally set up, there is lots of room to run, and many of the sculptures and structures can be climbed on or walked into, making it a little like a giant playground. It's not necessarily a fascinating destination for adults, but it's a nice break from more serious sights and the natural park setting is very attractive.

It's easiest to get here by car. Just drive to Bomarzo and keep your eyes peeled for the signs for "Parco dei Mostri" or "Sacro Bosco." There’s a spacious free parking lot. If you don't have a car, take the train to Attigliano and then transfer to the local bus. The park has a gift shop and a not-too-bad but not-too-cheap cafeteria, based on the prosciutto e melone I had.

If you visit a popular hilltown in Tuscany or Umbria, such as San Gimignano, Siena, or Assisi, you'll have a list of important sights to check out. You won't want to miss the famous museums and churches. You'll want to take pictures of those same views you see on postcards and in guidebooks. You'll walk through the piazzas shoulder-to-shoulder with other tourists, your eyes craned up at the towers or trained through the glass windows of souvenir shops. Don't get me wrong--these are all great places, and for good reason, and when I visit them I see and do the same things. But if you want to see a hilltown up close and personal, Civita will give you an entirely different experience.

Civita is tiny, perhaps two city blocks wide by three blocks deep. Walking briskly, you can cover it all in ten or fifteen minutes. Paradoxically, this means you must slow down to enjoy its special delights. There are no great museums or renowned cathedrals you must check off your to-do list, but this doesn't mean that there is nothing to see. Instead, saunter, dawdle, meander, look up and down and over gates and walls, and see what you can discover of the little things which mark out the slow life this place has known for centuries. The details of this town are worthy of your notice, and it's also easier to look at the little things here than in one of those bigger, busier hilltowns.

See if you can find the items pictured below (remember--it's a really small town!). Or see if you can find some modest treasures of your own. Tucked away in one corner of Civita is a house where St. Bonaventura spent some time. There's an ancient olive oil press. There’s a pair of wheels to a cart or wagon which has long since vanished. There’s a handprint in the cement of some child who is bones under the rock by now. Where is the most interesting door? The prettiest window? Who has the best garden? Find your own unforgettable view of Civita.