The mountain range that separates Umbria from the Adriatic Sea is subject to some pretty severe earthquakes which in Italy tend to mean life will not return to normal for decades at best.
But life goes on and Italians make do in these Instagram countrysides where agriculture continues underneath the new overlay of mass selfie tourism.
You might be forgiven for thinking this valley is half the size of Italy if you judged by the number of photos taken here, especially in Spring at the height of wildflower season.
They call it the Great Plain and since the Internet opened up the worlds back roads for inspection people flock here and enjoy it.
You come across a mountain pass around 4,000 feet and there it is, a couple of miles of straight road in the wilderness. Click with the camera and we were gone. Giovanni my chauffeur is a fast paced tourist where the pleasure is in getting the Audi through the mountain roads.
The great earthquake of 2016 flattened this area and seven years later they have done almost nothing to build back the public spaces.
Stores in cabins and homes in containers are the norm here seven years later with piles of rubble and latticeworks of scaffolding to try to hold up the remains of centuries old landmarks.
But the visitors keep coming. Unlike us many of them stop and take in the scenery.
No parking on either side of the roadway! And of course perfectly disciplined Italians follow the rules to the letter…
Norcia is famous for its preserved meats and as Umbria is the home of meat eaters that’s saying something. Norcia is where you get wild boar salami and exquisite mozzarella, truffles and so forth, all the symbols of central Italian cuisine at their best.
You’d think everyone would have hopped to after the earthquake of 2016 but destruction is everywhere in this historic district.
Abandoned buildings line the highway and weeds are taking over. There is of course rural population flight here like anywhere but the lack of reconstruction is exacerbating it.
I try to cone up to these parts when I visit Umbria because it’s so different, it’s more Alpine, more stark than most homey low altitude Umbrian hills.
Highway snow markers, steeply pitched roofs and ski lifts are the norm around here, where it’s high enough you get serious winter weather.
We zipped into Norcia, the town where Saint Benedict was born in order to admire the history for a moment and more importantly to have a coffee pick-me-up.
Seeing this long standing destruction and the efforts to keep living a normal life gave me flashbacks to life after severe hurricanes in the Keys. I put my camera away and used my phone to record what I saw as I felt awkward about staring at the misery.
Mind you six months after Hurricane Irma wrecked the Lower Keys 90% of the damage was repaired. This is seven years of suffering with no end in sight.
The posters promise a return to the loveliness it used to be, and slowly facades are being supported and the buildings behind are being rebuilt.
Saint Benedict surveying the slow pace of work:
A protest poster saying the local government (“conune”) promised the hospital would be rebuilt by 2023 and work hasn’t yet started.
By the way they have real estate for sale:
We stopped for the inevitable coffee. Giovanni had business to transact and I sat had watched the world go by while he hunched over his phone.
The chain smoking cardiologist. He retired after 40 years working in the hospital which paid back the government for his university medical school but he continues his private practice offering EKGs to Italians who are by nature hypochondriacs. He’s cheap and quick where public care is free but slow to even make an appointment for non urgent care.
Local government has discovered the value of these speed traps and they are everywhere. My rental car beeped if you were approaching one above the speed limit which innovation surprised me. 
The Valley of the Nets River approaching Terni, Giovanni’s home. It is a remarkably picturesque area.
I as a good traveler organizing my laundry for my last day in Italy. It was over 105 degrees in town and how the laundry workers kept going I don’t know.
Layne sent me a few photos from time to time of Rusty enjoying life without me.
I sent her food pictures to make her jealous.
Up next Orvieto underground and then my long awaited flight home.
