I have a new rant today. This may sound absurd but I am tired of Italian food. There is a very good reason for this. You do not have to say Italian restaurant when in the hinterlands of this great country like we are. There is no other kind. Ok, maybe two Chinese restaurants within a 100 mile radius but that is it. Italians like to eat the food their mothers cooked. That is fine behind closed doors at home but at restaurants too?

Now in the US of A we have Mexican food, French food, Soul food, Thai food, Japanese food, Northwest cuisine, Southern cookin’, down home Midwest meat and potatoes, German food, Greek food, Indian Food, Middle Eastern food, Argentinean food, Canadian food (That would be gravy on French fries) and Russian food. These do not even count real American food: hamburgers, hot dogs, a patty melt, Tex-Mex, steak and baked potatoes, and last but certainly not least the mighty, peanut butter and jelly sandwich. None of this exists in this area.

Ann just burst my balloon by reminding me that for lunch today I had polenta di farro with gorgonzola cheese and slices of fresh salami. Please disregard the previous paragraphs. I like Italian food.

We drove to the innards of Umbria today, past Perugia and on to Bevagna, Montefalco (The balcony of Umbria), and Gualdo Cattaneo. These are tiny towns well off the usual tourist track making them appealing to us. There is one problem with towns that the tourists miss – There is little to see there except stunningly ancient cities virtually untouched from medieval/renaissance times.

Gualdo Cattaneo is a very tiny town perched on a high hill with a main square about the size of our property at home. We found this town because we were headed the wrong direction (again) out of Montefalco and did not turn around when I saw a road sign for the town of Bastardo. Wouldn’t you go there? Gualdo Cattaneo was the next town up on a hill. There is one tiny church here in the one tiny town square and one very narrow road winding up the hill. The church is famous for its mosaic religious scenes. BUT, in this deserted church – it was lunch time when everything in the town closes for two to three hours – I saw stairs leading down under the altar of the church. It was pitch black but I went down to explore. When I got down into the crypt, the lights came on and I expected the one man police force of the town to appear with gun drawn to arrest me for religious trespass. It was just a motion detector light switch. I then realized I was standing next to a priest in his black robe – in a glass coffin in the wall mummified and about 500 years old. Not your every day occurrence. I got back up to the main church and Ann asked me what was down there. “Oh, a 500 year old mummified priest in a glass coffin.” She said she would pass on that.

As we were almost home, we spotted a golf course – the Golf Club di Valdichiana. This is a nine hole course with an elevation change of no more than six inches. Getting there required a half mile drive on a single track dirt road. We talked to the lady in the office and got prices for green fees. I don’t know why. I passed on a quick 9.

For dinner we went out to a restaurant and had Italian food.

Lesson for Day 31: Sometimes small churches have big surprises.