And the hurrying travellers will not have time to enjoy the charming drives among the olives in the valley, or to visit the many places of interest which can be reached from Perugia. They go home, and say, "Oh yes, we saw Perugia,—a dull old city, without a shop worth looking into."
A part of the indescribable fascination of the place is felt in long wanderings through the narrow streets, often deeply shadowed by tall palaces with grated windows and bricked-up doorways.
Come with me under a lofty archway, made with uncemented stones on either side, so huge that surely giants must have placed them in position. Now we are in a vaulted way, beneath ancient houses built over the street; these archways are frequent, sometimes low-browed and round-headed, mere tunnels through which one almost gropes one's way, and finds at the farther end a sudden descent down a flight of half-ruined brick steps, which turn so quickly that a keen interest insists they must be followed to the end. Sometimes the arch is Etruscan, tall and pointed, and instead of a descent, steps go upwards to another lofty archway with a darkness beyond it that still beckons on the explorer.
Day after day I have wandered up and down those twisting, hilly streets, often losing my way, and as often stumbling upon some fresh interest; some portion of Etruscan wall, or some exquisite point of view; a vista at the far-off end of a street, and often when this is arrived at, a grander and more varied picture, with part of Perugia for foreground.
One may easily lose one's way in Perugia. At first the city seemed to us a hopeless maze of twisting streets; but after a little we succeeded in realising the peculiarity of its form. It is said to be that of a star; but it is more like a lobster, with its head on one side, and outstretched tail and claws; or it is like a comet with star-shaped sides, the head on its long neck inclined westward, and a longer tail pointing south-east.
A great charm for those who stay in this city is the comfortable, home-like resting-place to be found in the Hotel Brufani. On our first visit this hotel was in progress of erection, but its predecessor existed in the house on the spur of the hill, outside the city gates. We have been told that the Albergo di Belle Arti is both very comfortable and moderate.
I shall not soon forget the delight of that first arrival.
The heat was so intense in Tuscany that we could not travel in daytime, so we left Florence at night, and had a dull, sleepy journey, arriving at Perugia towards morning.
As we came into the hall and the long corridor of the hotel, the dim light fell mysteriously on plants and flowers, showing curios on the wall behind them; to our joy, when we reached our charming cool room and opened the persiennes, we saw the exquisite light of early morning crowning the dim, far-off hills.
The day dawned golden with sunshine, the air breathed a delightful freshness. We strolled into the garden, which had at one end two majestic aloes in full bloom and a group of sun-flowers. Oleanders, covered with rosy blossoms, stood at the garden entrance; beyond was a bower of golden-green acacias, wreathed to their topmost branches with blue and white morning glories; below us we saw a varied landscape, the distant hills tinted with delicate morning light.