Civita di Bagnoregio: The town that is dying

Civita

Winding our way through the narrow streets of Bagnoregio, towards the old town I was blissfully unaware of what we were about to see. Nat said it would be a great surprise and to trust her, that I would love it. Squeezing out the other side of the small town I started to wonder whether she had overhyped our destination because the scenery started to look familiar and devoid of any people. A corridor of trees lining a walled piece of road looked bleak and rounding the last few corners we started to descend along with my hopes of a special hill town. And then, there it was as if it had fallen from Walt Disney’s imagination or lifted from the cover of an old Yes album, Civita di Bagnoregio.
As if carved from the point of a volcano the town’s edges ended abruptly in massive cliffs dropping to the deepening valley. Balancing perfectly on top a fairy tale town of ancient origins was glowing in the midday sun casting a dramatic shadow to one side emphasizing the buildings and structures within. Leading up to the town gates, a modern and narrow bridge that climbed, steadily soaring over the valley below. Surrounding Civita, absolutely breathtaking views of rolling valleys lush with vineyards and olive groves and edged in the far distance with dramatically eroded gorges exposing incredible shades of colours in the earth’s stratification. A view so massive that it exceeds your peripheral vision, emphasizing the surreal town waiting at the top of the bridge.

Onto the bridge

Paying our €1.50 each to enter the town, we stepped onto the bridge and started our ascent.
The entrance fee, a small price to pay, directly funds the rebuilding and maintenance of this special place because slowly it is crumbling. Already seemingly defying the laws of physics it is no wonder due to its size and height and the somewhat fragile nature of the tufa it sits on. The Italian government has now become involved in saving Civita from its slow destruction and efforts are underway to reinforce and support the town to hold off mother nature.
Nearing the 3/4 mark across the bridge after stopping many times to capture another perspective on camera we noticed a fresh landslide that had come down just to the left of the town entrance an indication that time is of the essence and Civita’s fate is at hand.
Finally reaching the town’s entrance, slightly out of breath but excited to discover what hides behind the town walls, we walked through a series of arches, up a short street and into the tiny town square. Apparently not too long ago Civita had its own palio horse race that took place here in the town’s center. It was truly hard to imagine such a tight course lined with spectators but pictures throughout businesses in town showed the race in progress with saddle-less jockeys leaning hard around the tiny circular track.

Sun faded pink

The church, painted in a sun faded pink, dominates the square and town and is quite modest as far as Italian churches go. A few pieces of ancient artwork adorn the walls along with a beautiful painted screen hung near the back. Simple stone work emphasizes the gold and silver alter along with a beautiful stained glass window in the front.

The old town itself is tiny and the 3 or 4 streets it holds can be walked in less than an hour but every step holds a photo opportunity and epic views of the valley expose themselves between the buildings and at the end of alleyways.

On this day, in late November, we were almost completely alone to explore the town and the magic of its isolation really had a chance to work on us free of any bus loads of tourists plowing their way into our views and distracting us with their inevitable noise.

The wind whistled up from the valley mixing the smell of fresh crisp air with burning fires and cooking from the various restaurants in town. Even before I saw the sign listing porcini soup as a lunch special I could smell the distinct scent of cooking porcini wafting through the streets.

One old and rustic signed business drew us in to see its small museum of the old olive mill and press. Dating back a few centuries, the mill was last updated in the mid 1800’s and still stood as it did in those days within its ancient walls. In the middle, a huge grinding stone that would have been powered by mules pulling the stone into action to crush the olives into paste. A couple of presses stood in the corners accompanied by all the old and original tools that were used over the years. The interior was very cave like and looked carved from the rock as opposed to build up. Around the olive pressing equipment were tables to sit and enjoy lunch.

A warm espresso macchiato

We were hungry and a warm espresso macchiato was in order so we decided to stop and have a panino and warm up. Running the business was a middle aged man who was very nice and happy to have what may have been his only customers for the day. Sitting alone in the old mill we looked at pictures, banners and flags from the old palio races. It looked as though the owners had some winning horses back in the day.
Our breath clearly visible, sitting inside, warming up was not going to be on the menu but then lunch arrived and the fading heat of our coffees helped. The panino was pretty much as bad as possible made with bread so stale it disintegrated and a meager slice of prosciutto topped with a couple of chunks of pecorino, cold dry and bland. Both of us laughed as we tried to finish it off remarking that in any other business we would have returned the food asking if it were a joke but looking at the struggle he faced making a living here in the off season we decided that the price of the sandwich would be a donation to his continued efforts.
Fortified somewhat we continued our uninterrupted exploration of town and quickly filled the camera with beautiful images while stopping at small stores where we felt almost obligated to support them by making a purchase in honour of their small town and the beautiful place they live.

Returning to the car we stopped at a belvedere at the top of the hill, to take in the magical view once more, before leaving.
Civita is definitely worth the time and effort to travel to and although I am sure it is inundated with tourists during the high season you may still get to have a solitary adventure during the winter months in one of the most fantastical towns we have ever seen.