Pesaro/Fano to Urbino

09 - 10/06, Monday and Tuesday
After a few very agreeable days between Pesaro and Fano at Camp Norina; which looks as it sounds, like a 1950's labour camp, we set off again. Our stay was in fact so nice that I sound Vera's horn for the second time in good humour (The first time involved a rare patriotic surge as we crossed the German border). We're off inland to Urbino for some culture.

Urbino is advertised as one of the nicest medieval/renaissance hilltop towns in Le Marche. We drive past the outskirts on our way to the campsite which lies 3km away on a neighbouring hill. The site is basic but expensive (€34), clearly benefitting from its monopolic status. As the landlord sternly explains the rules, a glimpse of humour: we needn't be worried about the speedlimit. We're early as the drive only covered 30 miles or so, and we decide to walk into town. Only the last few hundred meters are uphill but negotiate the same height altitude difference as the previous 2.5k. Beautiful little streets and alleyways, but these are the steepest we've ever encountered. Everything is cobbled with red brick, and every couple of feet they've raised a row slightly to provide some foothold. Not many people on bikes here we notice. Drenched in sweat (only me; Bre is far fitter than I am) we cool down outside a little bar in the Piazza della Repubblica.

Urbino was the seat of the Montefeltro family in the 15th century, and owes its main attraction, the Palazzo Ducale, to Federico da Montefeltro. Federico came to power in 1442 and had keen interest in the arts, especially architecture. He employed Luciano Laurana - a then relative unknown architect - to build for him the ideal palace. The result is the Palazzo Ducale, one of the finest early Renaissance buildings in Italy. Urbino today is kept lively by the many students of its university; the main focus incidentally being on art and architecture. (Thank you, Rough Guide..).

The Palazzo houses Le Marche's National Gallery with a large and very impressive collection of monumental Renaissance paintings by, among others, Raphael (who is the town's most famous son) and Piero della Francesca. The most striking for me though are the later works by Federico Barocci, which possess a striking simplicity in form and stroke, and beat the usual life-like, almost photographic, precision of other painters of that period.

One of the more eccentric attractions of the palace is a small study panelled with inlayed wood, forming somewhat of a trompe l'oeuil, and depicting in dazzling detail things like a squirrel, half open drawers with maps, cupboard doors ajar revealing astronomical instruments, and more of the like.

We also descent into the bowels of the building unearthing a freshwater system fuelled by numerous cisterns and grid of clay pipes that feed water into taps in the kitchen and even the Duke's bathroom. At its time it must have been absolutely state of the art.
Our last discovery (we almost walked past the bland entrance), and a very lucky one too, is the exhibit of some of the folios of Federico's extensive library, which had been pilfered by the Holy See as north-east Italy fell under papal rule in the 17th century. The some 20 books which are on temporary loan from the Vatican's vast vaults (ed: discovered the joy of alliterations, just ignore them) display exquisite craftmanship with stunning illuminations in amazingly vivid colours (ed: also the heavy-handed use of adjectives, in case you hadn't noticed).

Back in the sunshine, we're both experiencing that delightedly smug and exhausted feeling that you get after a couple of hours of culture, and after feigning entrance to a nearby church we sit down outside a small restaurant to have some lunch. For once we are living in synch with everyone else. The rest of the day is filled with strolling around, shopping and sipping coffees. I had lost my £80 Oakleys which allows me to replace them with a pair of chic €8 Noname. Bre thinks they look much better on me anyway.

Inspired by a dish we had for lunch we buy wine, tomatoes, tuna, rocket and big white beans called fagioli spagna and take the bus back to the site. We sit outside the van eating and sipping a nice local red, overlooking the valley towards Urbino, and watch a spectacular sunset as glow worms swarm around us. The €34 a night all of a sudden seem a bargain.