“Vicolo dei Fiori che Parlano” translates to the “Alley of Talking Flowers”. That’s what Spello holds! A tiny ancient town located in the province of Perugia, resembling a medieval village, Spello is a hidden gem surrounded by walls and lined with flower-filled alleys.
I discovered this city for the first time on YouTube, searching for quiet destinations between Rome and Florence. Spello is widely known for its “flower festival”, which takes place in June, when the streets are covered with beautiful flowers. Unfortunately, I did not come then, but still had high hopes for this town, which, aside from its floral distinction, was very peaceful and tucked away in the midlands of Italy.
My partner and I visited for one evening. I didn’t expect it to be so memorable once the trip had passed. After some unnecessary stress with just about everything involved with Trenitalia, we finally made it after a long journey from Amalfi.
Upon arrival, I started to realize we might be in the middle of nowhere. Our train car was ancient—it even used a metal lever to open the door. It felt like stepping back into what I imagine trains in the 1960s were like. Once arriving in Spello, we actually missed our exit completely. The metal lever in our train car was jammed, so next thing you know, our train is headed to Assisi on the next stop. After switching trains back in direction to Spello, some kind locals helped us out (in refusal of speaking English), probably thinking to themselves, “these stupid Americans!” (I promise I’m Canadian and just want to explore your side of the world!). Finally, we got out at the correct station, which is just outside the old town meaning.
While walking in and around these very narrow alleys, I started to ask myself, where is everybody? Once arriving at the hotel, I began to also ask, where is the reception? Who owns this place? It was a big house with multiple rooms, converted into a hotel that resembled an Airbnb. After about 5 minutes of walking around the property, nobody was to be found – but the front door was open. Then, I heard this noise coming from what appeared to be a basement, just below the lobby. As I walked down the stairs, saying “hello?”, I entered what looked like someone’s messy garage. I look back and see this doorway that had a beaded curtain. I began thinking about what was going on on the other side of this room, with what appeared to be an incredibly old man sitting on the couch watching TV. Then, rushing out comes the owner, this wonderful lady who spoke zero English. I was impressed; her posting on Hotels.com looked pretty good. After we said hello and exchanged names, she was nothing but kind. She then ushered us to our room with no issues, and all was okay.
Next, we walked around and did a whole tour of the old town. You can do it quite quickly as it isn’t a large town. Yet, I was quite surprised – it was nice. You’re surrounded by vineyards and fields in close proximity, followed by numerous hills in what felt like a great location for a castle. For peak season, there was barely anyone there. Spello is not a popular tourist attraction, but a cute, small village nestled in the midlands. The alleys are quite the view as flower pots are decorated with passion and Italian flair.
Picture quote: “La vita è troppo breve per sprecarla realizzando i sogni degli altri” translates to: “Life is too short to waste it making other people’s dreams come true.”
To end the evening, I purchased a cheap bottle of Sangiovese (which was way too cheap for how good it was) and watched the sunset from the north side of Spello. In the distance, there was a thunderstorm a ways away, which added beauty to the moment as we talked and drank away the evening. It was so incredibly hot that week in Italy (July 1-7). Before I went to sleep, I surveyed my phone for news on the upcoming Trenitalia strike – expected to begin the next morning. Our plans for the next day were to visit Siena; luckily, we were taking a FlixBus to our next destination. The only issue: we needed to get to Assisi to catch that bus. Usually, there are trains between the two cities every 30 minutes on weekdays. However, with the strike, both Google Maps and the Trenitalia website weren’t clear. I had found out a cab would have cost 60+ euros, but those are difficult to find in Spello at 7 in the morning. So, we slept on it and set an early alarm for 4 am to check the train times then.
Funnily enough, I didn’t need an alarm to wake me up as I woke up at about 2 a.m. to the loudest thunderstorm I’ve ever experienced – directly above my head. It was loud enough to write a blog post about. It felt close to unsafe, but there was nowhere we could go. I’m not religious, but I do like to use the saying “the gods are angry” whenever thunder is loud. But, this was next-level. Spello felt like a ghost town, and this storm only added to the sense of isolation. The gods of Perugia were not happy. I couldn’t sleep for the rest of that night, not because it was frightening, but because it was so loud it just kept me awake! Looking back, I actually enjoyed the whole thing. There was something kind of cool about being stuck in this deserted little town, trapped by this massive storm. We waited for it to pass, knowing our next problem was already waiting: could we even catch a train out of here with the strike happening?
The evening then passed, as did the storm. Thankfully, we were able to catch the only morning train that would have made us depart on time, which was at 6:45 a.m.
Overall, one evening in Spello turned into a trip I won’t forget anytime soon. Between the train mishaps, the eerie emptiness of the village, and getting woken up by the world’s loudest thunderstorm, it was quite the surprise. Not every travel day goes according to plan, but honestly, those are usually the ones that stick with you. Spello might be a quiet little town in the middle of nowhere, but it gave me nice story to remember.
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