The Legendary Day that Was (pause for effect) Deruta

WHAT a day.  We've been trying to go to Deruta for three days.  It rained/snowed on Tuesday, and we got the bus time wrong on Wednesday.  So today was the big day.  I was determined.  Kim, never having been, didn't see Deruta as much of a priority, but I persisted.  (Cliff note: Deruta is where pretty much all Italian ceramics are made.  Some immensely beautiful stuff.)

We were at the bus stop 10 minutes early this time: 7:30.  In girl time, that meant Kim and I had to wake up at 6 and 6:30, respectively.  An early morning for these Assisans.  We rode the bus down to the train station, and the machine wouldn't sell us a ticket to Deruta.  Strange.  I knew we had to transfer in Perugia, so we just bought a ticket to go there.  NOTE: we almost went back home.  What if we can't get there?  But persistence and the promise of gorgeous ceramics prevailed.

Once in Perugia, we found no schedule with a Deruta stop.  It wasn't in their machine, either.  However, it was now 9am, so there was a friendly train staffer to sell us each a ticket for 1 euro to get to Deruta.  Success!

Our stop was only a 9 minute train ride away.  Stepping off the train, we felt triumphant.  We knew it was a bit of a walk to town, but we've walked such distances before.  (Sidebar to the Alesandrinis - we totally walked from Santa Maria to Bastia and back the other day.  Holla!)  But looking around the station, we noticed something eerie.  There were no people.  No snack machines.  No ticket machines.  How the heck would we get back home?

That's a problem for another hour.  On to Deruta and her fine ceramics!  My keen intuition, aided by googlemaps, told me that Deruta was due east of the train tracks, so we followed the sun.  The road didn't want to do the same, so we weaved a bit, semi-confident in our direction.  As we walked further, we were concerned by the fact that there was no town in sight, nor any people.  Hmmmmm.  

We pressed on, boldly following the sun's guidance and familiar road signs.  Just when we thought we'd found a road heading in the right direction, it dead-ended into a farm.  Embarrassed and slightly desperate, we approached some of the workers and asked for help.  They were very kind, offering confusing directions, friendly smiles, and ultimately, a ride into town.  But not from them - from the elderly owner.  As he started his car and waved us over to the garage, his daughter pulled into the drive.  Mama came out of the house.  "No.  You go with her now."  Yes ma'am!  So she explains the situation to daughter Marta (later to be dubbed Santa Marta), who drops her visiting plans to drive us into Deruta - a 15 minute drive from our location by highway.  (!)  Marta gives us her phone number and says to call if we can't figure out how to get home, and she'll come get us.  Seriously.  From this day forward - Santa Marta (Saint Marta).

Now we're in town!  We stop for a coffee to warm up, and ask for ideas about how to get home.  The mother/father/daughter team in the caffe/bar is incredibly friendly.  After a few minutes of conversation, mama tells us that if the tourist office can't give us the help we need, we should come back and their daughter will drive us the half hour home.  (!)  Could these people be any nicer?

Then we shop.  Apparently we looked cold when we walked into the first store, so the owner hugged me and rubbed my cheeks to warm up my face.  Yeah, we bought some stuff there.  The woman at the next store kissed us goodbye when we left.  Everyone was extra friendly and sincere.  We found the tourist information office and figured out how to get home by bus.  Mission accomplished again!

After a tasty pasta lunch, we stopped in one more store.  The owner, all smiles, immediately began a long, chatty conversation, all the while hugging us, pinching our cheeks, and patting our faces (a little forcefully, I might add.)  When he learned that we'd have to walk down to the bus stop, he explained that he has another store down there and offered us a ride.  So he closed his store, and we got into a stranger's car for the second time today.

As we walked into his second store, I realized I'd been there before.  In fact, my sister had been in his studio - he taught her to throw pottery.  So I tell him about my family, and he claims to remember.  Sure, sure.  Making the sale.  A few minutes later, he puts a photo album in my hand and points to a picture of Emily.  There she is, plain as day!  He (who we now know as Rolando) then proceeds to take us both downstairs, and soon we're all throwing pottery and getting all muddy.  

You should know that the cheek pinching has now upgraded to full groping status.  Rolando is regularly patting my rear-end, and Kim mysteriously has clay on her boob.  (Ok, not so mysterious.  I saw him put it there.  No shame!)

Finally, we make our purchases and say our goodbyes.  Kim and I force ourselves to do a little more window shopping (torture, really), and then we find our way to the bus stop.  With ten minutes until the bus's arrival, there's our friendly salesman, Rolando, shooing us into the nearby bar for a coffee.  He insists on treating us, so it would be rude to say no.  This will be my third espresso of the day.  After a few more minutes of hugging, kissing, and groping, we get on the bus to Perugia.  Whew!

Two more bus rides and 3 1/2 hours later, we're home!    Now that we've spent way too much money, learned the non-ease of taking public transportation to the ceramics capital of Italy, taken multiple charity rides with strangers, and been thoroughly groped by an old pottery-thrower, I do believe we've conquered the juggernaut that is our Deruta.  For the full set of the day's pictures, click HERE.  

Good night!