“What are you going to do today?” asked Sabrina, the owner of Ripa Medici, the adorable two-room B&B I was staying at for a week in Orvieto.  Technically in Umbria but off to the side a bit, wedged in between Tuscany and Lazio, Orvieto sits on the top of a plateau made of “tufa” rock (“tuff”, in English).  “Tufa” is consolidated volcanic ash.  In the case of Orvieto’s high seat above the valleys surrounding it, this volcanic ash was deposited here almost 100,000 years ago.  Locally it’s known as simply “La Rupe” – “The Rock”.

“Well,” I say, “I think I’m going to hike l’Annello della Rupe” (“The Ring of the Rock”).

“Oh!” Sabrina exclaims, setting down a Nutella crepe in front of me.  “Che faticoso!”

Despite Sabrina’s warning that it’s a strenuous hike, I set out after breakfast through Porta Maggiore and walk down through one of the parking lots outside the town walls to one of five entrances to the trail.  The “ring” around the “rock” is a trail about halfway down the plateau that completely circles it, looking down at the valley below while the edges of the city loom high overhead. Its relatively flat (until you have to climb back up to Orvieto) and, in this part of the trail, well-marked and even paved!  Joggers, wrapped up against the winter chill, lope by and mothers pushing strollers chat as they pass in the other direction.

At various points there are large signs pointing out various things to look at along the way.  The first one I come to is in a small clearing, the tall trees giving way to expose an incredible view of the Rock.  It towers above the trail, its sheer immensity overwhelming.

The sign points out small holes in the side of the rock face, like little windows of underground houses.  In fact, these are windows to pigeon caves.  In medieval times people in Orvieto would “farm” pigeons. They dug caves under the city and equipped them with water for drinking and bird-baths, small holes for nesting and a window to the outside so they could leave to hunt and return to eat and, well, be eaten.  You can walk through the caves as part of the “Underground Orvieto” Tour that leaves from Piazza Duomo.

I pass over the funicular track that is constantly bringing tourists and locals alike up from the lower Orvieto train station to the upper, medieval town.  Soon the paved trail disappears – and so do the people.  I walk alone on an overgrown path, the vegetation much more wet and wild.  It doesn’t seem like the sun hits this part of the trail for very long or very often.  It makes me feel like I’m traipsing through a forgotten wood, a fairy getting ready to drop out of a yellow maple or a gnome to pop out of a hollowed-out tree stump.  This is definitely my favorite part of l’Annello della Rupe, no question.

And what are these conditions perfect for? Growing mushrooms, of course! Two large caves that were originally created when the stone was quarried for building were later used to grow mushrooms.  I’ve never thought of anyone having to actively grow mushrooms, but of course they do!  The caves have gone out of use, now, though.

The trail becomes a bit more defined right before I arrive at Necropoli estrusca del Crocefisso del tufo, the Etruscan burial site designed around 600BC as a small city (read my article on the Necropoli HERE). Covered in grass and algae and almost level with the ground around them, the tops of the tombs blend into their environment.  You can enter the necropolis – and even some of the tombs! – and walk down the small streets laid out like a grid in the shadow of the Rock.  If you can read Etruscan (anyone?), you can identify the deceased assigned to each tomb; their names are still etched above the entrances.

A little farther on I come across the church that houses the cross that gave the necropolis its name, Chiesa del Crocefisso del Tufo.  You’d never know it was a church; it just looks like a small door in the side of the cliff.  The church – and the crucifix, actually – are carved into and out of the tufa of the Rock.  Legend has it (though scholars scoff) that a soldier named Floriano in the 6th century was falsely accused by his comrades-in-arms of theft and murder.  Distraught, Floriano threw himself from the top of the cliff clutching tightly to the crucifix he always wore around his neck. Miraculously, he landed completely unharmed and, as a sign of gratitude, began to carve a new crucifix out of tufa rock… with his hands.

After about three hours – and about three hundred pictures of trees – I turn a corner around the cliff wall and see Porta Maggiore ahead of me.  It hadn’t been as “faticoso” as I had been warned. In fact, it had been a beautiful, relaxing morning, a stroll through a bit of history, a varied and delightful walk through nature.  If you have a few hours to spare when you’re in Orvieto and want to get away from the typical tourist sites, give l’Annello della Rupe a try; you’ll discover more than you expect along the Ring of the Rock.

“But, what are you going to DO in such a small town for five days??”

Well, one of the things I was looking forward to doing was exploring the plethora of Etruscan caves and crypts, starting with the Necropoli di Crocifisso del Tufo.  It was named after a cross of “tufo”, or volcanic rock (that creates the plateau on which Orvieto sits), that was carved in the 16th century in deposited in a nearby church.  The necropolis itself wasn’t discovered – or, there are no documents mentioning its discovery – until the early 19th century when locals were building a road nearby.

So I woke up, had a wonderful breakfast at my B&B, and headed toward Porta Vivaria. 

Almost the entire time I was there, the countryside around Orvieto was covered in a cloak of fog, the city itself jutting above the cloud on its high seat.  As I descended through the walls of the city, it was like I was entering that scene in a horror movie where everything looks creepy but the birds are still chirping and no one is screaming yet – you know the scene I mean.

The “Rupe”, or rock, on which Orvieto was built was formed over the course of three hundred thousand years (!!) from the final volcanic eruption in the Volsini Mountains. As you walk down the path toward the necropolis the rock looms above you, moss and algae growing along its jagged edges.

I was tempted to stop for a bit when I saw a bench, read for a while in this tranquil spot, but then I looked to my right an saw it: Necropoli di Corcifisso del Tufo.  Those squares of green are the “roofs” of the tombs.

My only problem was how to get down there… There didn’t seem to be a path that led down to the necropolis, and the only other path I had seen seemed to go in the opposite direction.

So I improvised.  This kind of looks like a trail, right?

But then, after walking for about five minutes through the wet grass and clover, I found myself at the bottom of a long flight of steps.  A flight of steps that curved around from above, back the way I had come.  I guess the path I had seen at the beginning, where the trail forked, actually did eventually lead down to the necropolis!  Oh, well…

Admission for i Necropoli di Crocifisso del Tufo was included in my “Carta Unica” (the Orvieto tourism card), but would’ve otherwise been only €3.  There’s a “map” at the entrance, but unless you’re good at reading blueprints I’d suggest just wandering around.  That’s what I did!

You have to take a few stairs down into the necropolis, as the “roofs” are pretty much at ground level.  The entrances to the tombs, however, are built half-way up, meaning that the tomb is half underground and only half above ground.

It’s laid out like a city with several streets intersecting to form a grid.  This is said to be its outstanding feature (which leads me to believe that this type of plan or layout of burial sites was unusual in the 6th century BC, when it was built).  Archeologists think it was laid out to follow the edge of a nearby road at the time.

You can climb down into the tombs if you’d like to – there are no gates or ropes preventing you from doing so – but this little spider, his massive web and those of all his little spidey buddies kept me from entering most of them.

I did enter a few, though, and found most of the layouts pretty similar.  Most were one simple room; only a few had a wall divider separating the chamber into two.  The walls and ceiling are all made of the same dry, tufo rock.  The ceiling is vaulted – one of the tombs had no front and back, giving a good view of how it was constructed.

Two benches usually lined the walls.  The deceased and their funerary objects would be arranged on these, when they were not cremated (which was supposedly quite common).  The position of the benches reminds me of the living room benches in Herculaneum or Pompeii, when everyone would lay on their left side to eat and drink with their right hand.  Probably has nothing to do with it, but that’s what it looks like.

One had an escape hole out the back  (haha)

It was quite a dramatic view, looking up upon the rock of the city while strolling through these ancient burial sites.  A little eerie.

Above the entrance to each tomb, etched in the tufo, is the  name of whomever is buried there.  Anyone read Etruscan?

I walked around for a while, peeking into tombs – climbing in when I could – and enjoying the quiet.  I didn’t see anyone else the entire time I was there.

After a while everything started looking the same, so I climbed the steps on the other side of the necropolis, past the orange tree that somehow still had fruit hanging on in the middle of winter, and walked the path back up to Orvieto.

Orvieto is in my itinerary for my next trip to Italy.  One of the things that seems to be a staple of the small hilltop town is St. Patrick’s Well (Pozzo di S. Patrizio).

The well was commissioned by Pope Clement VII in 1527 after the sack of Rome forced him to take refuge in Orvieto.  He became concerned there wouldn’t be enough water available in Orvieto in the case of a siege.  It took Antonio da Sangallo the Younger of Florence 10 years to design and build the well, which was completed in 1537 (during the papacy of Pope Paul III).

The well seems to be on the far side of town from the main piazzas:

It’s quite a grand entrance to a WELL (thank you Google Street View):

It looks like you buy tickets right at the entrance.  5 euro per adult (3,50 reduced).  Some people talk about a combination ticket with the Greco Museum for a couple euro more, but its not listed on the official site. The Greco Museum is said to hold a few dozens bronze statues and artifacts – doesn’t sound too exciting but for two euro its worth the chance, I think.

The well itself sits right on the precipice of the cliff.  On the exterior it’s a one-story, round building made of brick.

The well reaches 53.15 metres (174.4 ft) deep and is 13 meters (43 ft) in diameter.  You reach the bottom by making your way down one of two double-helix staircases.  Double-helix means there are two separate spirals – a donkey going down to get water wouldn’t block the path of one taking the other spiral staircase coming up.  70 windows provide illumination to the staircases from the top, but it still seems like its probably damp, dark and somewhat claustrophobic.  In other words, awesome.

(photo courtesy Julie Morris)

Opening Hours:

January – February – November – December: 10am to 4:45pm

March – April – September – October: 9am – 6:45pm

May – June – July – August: 9am – 7:45pm

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