Concern about overtourism has been much in the zeitgest lately, especially when it comes to Italy. For instance, Chandi Wyant recently did an excellent series in which, among other things, she called out the rampant “panino porn” generated on Instagram and TikTok, and its devastating consequences for the city of Florence:
There’s a panino place in Via dei Neri in Florence that somehow became known as the best sandwich place in Italy. Originally a hole-in-the-wall, like most traditional panini places, it expanded after getting famous and now has four storefronts on both sides of the street. The lines on each side of the street merge in the middle in high season creating total blockage.
I’ve witnessed this same phenomenon where I live now, in Amsterdam. Certain streets in the historic centre have become unliveable for locals, and unpleasant even to visit due to this or that shop suddenly going viral for “the best” grilled cheese or fries or bubble tea in Amsterdam. As a local, whenever I’m in the mood for brunch, I look up what the current hotspots are and go anywhere else. To this darling café in my neighbourhood, for instance, where you can get great Columbian coffee and play vintage video games in a chill atmosphere that’s just oozing with quirky charm.
(Pipes & Beans, in case you want to go a little off the beaten track in Amsterdam.)
Amsterdam has dozens, if not hundreds, of charming cafés like this. The point is not to go in search of this one specifically, but to close your social media apps and maybe wander lost for a bit, and duck into whichever café materializes in front of you like a magic door.
In this spirit, I loved Eric Beall’s list of Ten Things to Experience in Italy Before You Die. Spoiler: they’re not the usual listicles of already overtouristed famous museums and sandwich shops. They’re the kind of small moments of magic that are both impossible to plan or find on a map, yet at the same time ubiquitous and easily attainable if you step off the beaten path and give yourself space to breathe. As Eric points out,
The truth is that Italy is not really filled with tourists, not even at the height of the season. The problem is that all of the visitors have gathered in the same eight places, sometimes even the same sandwich shop, at the same time. Towns like Urbino, Ravenna, Narnia, or Agrigento are full of art and history and yet still offer the kind of sightseeing experience one sees in turn of the century picture books, where the lone writer or artist wanders in quiet solitude, scribbling in his or her journal.
When I saw my own little town, Narni, on Eric’s list, I experienced a surge of delight and pride, quickly followed by a stab of anxiety. Could such a mention catapult my favorite city into the same hellish popularity as Florence and Rome?
It’s easy to feel proprietary about a place you’ve fallen in love with, and wonder if you should keep it to yourself. At the same time, Narni is older than the Roman Empire; it doesn’t really belong to me at all. It feels like a selfish urge to keep this enchanted place a secret, which is part of why I started this Substack in the first place. I’ve recently bought a little stone house in this most charming of Umbrian hill towns, and I’m well on my way to living out my storybook dream of owning a tiny bookshop halfway up to the fortress on the hill.
Which feels like the kind of dream it would be churlish not to share. And Eric’s whole point is that there is plenty of room in Italy; we just need to spread out our love so it doesn’t end up smothering the same few famous places. So with that in mind, let me give you a little tour of my favorite city.
One thing I love about Narni is its setting, high on a hill with the most amazing views. One of the roads into Narni leads through the Nera River valley, which means it very much rises out of the midst of a green paradise of stunning natural beauty. You can see this valley from one whole side of Narni, where there’s a wonderful boardwalk and benches to sit and admire the view. Incredibly, even at the height of tourist season it’s often empty, whether at midday like this, or when the sun is setting and the moon rising over the ethereal monastery on the hill.
From the boardwalk, there’s a steep little path straight down through all that green if you fancy seeing the river up close. If you do take that path, before long you’ll arrive at the ancient Roman shipyards, built right on the Nera River, which even in February when I was there is a fantastical shade of turquoise blue. In the summer you can take a dip in a perfect natural swimming pool. The locals call it “Miami.”
The view from the other side of Narni could not be more different: farmland and a whole collection of other picturesque hill towns like San Gemini, Cesi, Amelia, and Lugnano in Teverino, all well worth visiting in their own right too. Here’s a view of what that landscape looks like. In the distance, just above the hay bale, you can see La Rocca, the fortress of Narni, crowning the hill.
And here’s the sunset view from inside the city in that direction.
The real magic, though, is once you enter the gates of Narni. The city is built on the tiptop of a steep-sided hill, so urban sprawl just hasn’t been able to happen. Every street is as picturesque as the last, and you never lose the feeling of having stepped through some portal into another century.
Narni is built right into and out of the limestone hills. There are places where it almost feels like you’re walking through the bones of the mountains.
It’s big enough to get lost in, yet small enough that you can walk across it in a matter of a half an hour, even if you’re constantly stopping to take it in. Everywhere you look feels like a photo framed just for you, a moment of magic caught in time.
And it’s a vibrant, living place, with several cafés and restaurants, a couple of little grocery stores and bakeries, and two picturesque piazzas to choose from for the aperitivo you’ll be sorely tempted to make a daily habit.
Oh, and did I mention Narni has its own miniature opera house that hosts several festivals and many musical events and plays throughout the year?
Narni is just over an hour by car from Rome, and easily accessible by train as well. There’s a lovely small cathedral and several churches, a few museums, a whole subterranean level reachable through a secret door, and a walking route through the city and surrounding countryside where you can see the views painted by centuries of artists who have come here for inspiration.
It’s the perfect place to experience the timeless, soul-enriching side of Italy that can be so easy to miss if you stick to the same old overtouristed cities that are under so much strain right now. The kinds of moments you experience in a place like Narni feel less like checking off boxes you’ve seen on Instagram, and more like a wander into a place you thought only existed in your dreams.
And who knows? Maybe you’ll come across me there by the fountain in the square, and we’ll sit down for a cappuccino and a leisurely chat—an hour where we step out of time and have nothing to do but be.
Great piece Sarah. You managed to capture the essence of Narni and exactly how I feel about this little town. It captures both my heart and imagination. Almost twenty years since I moved here and I still get that sense of wonder as I walk around. ❤️
Am I the only one who kept wanting to add and A, and call this magical place, Narnia?