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Up to a couple of weeks ago I’d never heard of Gubbio. It’s not exactly near the top of most people’s Italian bucket-lists. But, visiting my wife, Chris’s: daughter, Italian son in law and Anglo-Italian grandkids every year, we have got to do many things that regular tourists don’t even think of. Our family visits provide many such “Heineken” moments.

Gubbio is a small town of about 30,000 people in Umbria, a region in the centre of the Italian peninsula. Chris’s family live in Perugia, 43 miles or a 45 minute drive away. Gubbio is in the north east corner of Umbria near the regions of Le Marche to the east, and Tuscany to the west. ( Sorry about the geography lesson.)

The thing about family visits abroad as opposed to conventional sight-seeing tours, is you get to do ordinary, everyday things as well as ticking off the Trip Adviser’s list of must sees. On this visit for instance, we got to visit a local police station ( Comando Stazione Carabinieri) . It wasn’t because we had broken the law! We were there to collect Chris’s grand-daughter’s Italian passport. While waiting there we witnessed men coming in to collect their gun licences so they could presumably go hunting. Policemen with holstered pistols also wondered in and out to collect documents as well. It was not an everyday tourist activity but interesting nevertheless. It was, in fact, an example of Italy’s infamous suffocating bureaucracy in action. Many i’s and t’s have to be dotted and crossed. Queuing has become a way of life. ( And many think it’s just us Brits who are famous for their patient queuing!)

Anyway, we called in at the Carabinieri HQ in Perugia before heading off to Gubbio. The reason we were going there, apart from it being one of the most perfectly preserved medieval centres in Italy, was because Chris’s son-in-law, G, had acquired a motor bike and Gubbio has an excellent biker’s garage where it was going to be checked out and serviced. So the rest of us drove to meet him there to have a day out together.

Guided by a sophisticated sat-nav, we parked just outside the old centre. The car-park just happened to be next door to the remains of a partly restored Roman amphitheatre! ( 1st century AD or CE) Luckily my humble, British debit card worked perfectly in the Italian parking machine. 7.5 Euros sounded pretty reasonable for 7 hours. Now in tourist mode, we got our camera phones at the ready and made our way to Gubbio’s medieval centre, which we entered through an old stone gateway of porta. This is one of six still puncturing the town’s defensive walls.

Most of the streets were quiet even though we were in mid-June. Gubbio is still well under the mass tourist radar, thank goodness. Although the centre is almost like a museum piece with its ancient stone buildings, narrow streets and lanes, it did not feel like a commercialised tourist-trap at all. It was just the opposite in fact. Every now and then we passed a small, colourful ceramics shop but nobody came out to give us the hard sell. The tall buildings have attractive, terracotta clay-tiled roofs with little, lantern-like chimneys. ( very photogenic.) The chimneys are still there today as they protect the flue from rain and help to promote an updraft.

Gubbio sits in an upland valley of the Apennine mountain chain. The town spreads up the lower slopes of Mount Ingini. A small river divides it neatly into two halves and is crossed by several old bridges. When we were there the river had mostly dried up to a mere trickle. The lower land beyond the town is largely devoted to olive groves. Unlike Perugia, which was founded by the Etruscans, Gubbio, along with nearby Todi, was one of the original settlements of the Umbrii people, an Iron Age tribe. The Romans came to call this region: Umbria. The Umbrians had many powerful enemies and so retreated into small, defensive dwellings in the Apennines. This is why Umbria, like its neighbour Tuscany, has so many hill-top settlements today. The ancient Umbrians formed an alliance with the Romans against the Etruscans which gave them a certain amount of protection but also led them to being swallowed up by the expanding Roman Empire. Roman authors referred to it as a place with heavy, mountain mists. For a while it had great strategic importance as it controlled a major highway through the Apennines, the Via Flaminia.

The old Umbrian language was related to Latin and Oscan.( whatever that is!) Gubbio has the distinction of holding the oldest documents in the ancient Osco-Umbrian family of languages. These are the Iguvium ( or Eugubian) Tablets. They consist of 7 bronze tablets dating from 300 to 100 BC. They were discovered in 1444 AD ( CE.) by an illiterate shepherd. They are the main source of research for scholars of ancient Umbrian. One can still find them in the town’s museum which is housed in a splendid palace. ( we didn’t have time to visit it.)

The Roman Empire in Umbria fell after invasions by the Saracens in the 5th and 6th centuries after Christ. Gubbio eventually fell under the control of the Ostrogoths and/or the Lombards, who had a prolonged power struggle to fill the vacuum left by the Romans. The town’s history is full of conflict and complications and I’m sure you would fall asleep if I tried to jump down every rabbit hole. It was completely rebuilt on its present site after being destroyed by Hungarians in 917AD. It seemed to be fair game for any powerful, marauding enemy that came along. For a while it fell under the control of Charlamagne’s Frankish Empire which later morphed into the Holy Roman Empire. Later still it was ruled by the Popes in the Vatican and so became part of the Papal States. Finally Umbria, along with the rest of the Papal States became part of the new, united Kingdom of Italy in 1860.

Gubbio actually prospered in the 12th and 13th centuries thanks to the production of woollen cloth. Vines, olives, fruit trees, flax and hemp were grown in the surrounding countryside, when it wasn’t being devastated by an invading army. This prosperity would explain the presence of 2 or 3 impressive palaces and a sprinkling of frescoed churches. But then a long, slow decline set in which explains its relative obscurity today.

We wandered through the narrow streets flanked by stone buildings of a pale rosy-pink. Swifts flew here and there above us, their magnified shadows dancing on the walls as they darted in and out of their nests. Colourful lines of washing hung from lines suspended from high windows. It’s funny how other peoples’ photogenic knickers have become a tourist attraction. We called in at the Duomo or Cathedral but it looked quite bare as it had been remodelled in the 18th century and its medieval ornamentation tidied away. I spotted some fading, 16th century frescoes in a side chapel. There was Mary talking to the angel and learning that she would be bearing the son of God. Opposite the cathedral is an impressive palace. We walked from the picturesque Duomo square or piazza to a more workaday square with a small bus station at one side. This is the dramatically named Piazza Quaranta Martiri ( Square of the 40 martyrs.) We have discovered lots of squares and streets in Italy, named to remember an important or tragic event. This one remembers the 40 local people who were shot by the Nazis in 1944 as a reprisal for the activities of the partisans in the mountains.

Our next stop was the Piazza Grande, the main square of the town. By now, people, both locals and tourists, were getting more numerous. This is one of the main places for tour groups to meet up and is a popular meeting spot with cafes, benches and some shady trees. In front of us to the right was a small park in front of an old church. To our left was a 14th century building which was founded as a hospital. ( Hospital of Santa Maria, established in 1326.) It has an attractive terracotta, pan-tiled roof, with an old bell tower and a two colonnaded arcades, one sitting on top of the other. The street level arcade is lined with classical columns. This arcade or loggia is an extension stuck on to the side of the building. Presumably this passageway, open at one side, was originally used for exercise while taking shelter from the rain or beating sun. Today the lower loggia is occupied by several restaurants which were doing a brisk trade. It’s a popular eating place for tourists.

The upper loggia or arcade was added in the early 1600s by the Wool-makers’ Guild after a lot of controversy. They wanted to stretch their washed pieces of cloth over the arcade roof to dry. Some people obviously thought this was sacrilege in a building dedicated to the Virgin Mary. However, commerce and profit won out in the end and the so-called “stretching loggia” was duly added. The whole thing is called the Loggia dei Tiratori and very picturesque. It must feature in an endless stream of Instagram and Facebook photos.

The big attraction of the Piazza Grande however is its beautiful setting. Above it sits the 14th century Consul’s Palace. Its crenelated, fairy-tale facade and 98 metre high campanile can be seen from all over the town. Behind the palace, the lush, wooded slopes of the Apennines rear up dramatically. At the top of a steep hillside, a tiny church can be seen peeping out through the trees. People can travel up there by cable car to avoid a stiff, 40 minute hike.

By now we had met up with G who had parked his motor bike. We ascended a steep road to a little, quiet restaurant he had kindly booked for our leisurely lunch. Inevitably it featured shavings of black truffles, a speciality of the area. These flavoursome underground mushrooms are sought out and dug up in the woods by people using specially trained sniffer dogs. Truffle hunting is a popular pastime in this part of central Italy, especially amongst the older generation.

We now climbed up to the Consul’s Palace which is situated in a spectacular square with stunning views across a sea of orange rooftops and the green hills and dark mountains beyond. Opposite the Palazzo dei Console is another medieval palace called the Palazzo Pretorio which is now the Town Hall. From the palace square we looked down over the town and then suddenly we heard the evocative throb of dozens of vintage cars. It turned out that the town was the halfway point of a stage of the Miglia Mille ( Thousand Miles) which is described as one of the most beautiful road races in the world. Crowds had gathered, police were on hand to redirect the local traffic and as we watched, a succession of brightly coloured historical cars arrived in the town, interspersed with support vehicles. Many of vehicles were sports cars from the 1950s and 60s. We spotted Masaratis, Alpha Romeos and Ferraris, along with less glamorous vehicles such as ancient VW Beetles and 1950s Italian police cars. Each car had a driver and a navigator. I’m not a “petrol head” by any means but it was fascinating watching the spectacle unfold. Suddenly the sleepy “museum” had woken up. People were walking around waving little, red “Miglia 1000” flags and down in the Piazza Grande, a large marquee had been erected to give lunch to all the contestants. That day’s stage had started in Rome, had passed through Umbria’s highlights including paying homage to St Francis in Assisi and was heading to Bologna at the end of the day.

The Miglia Mille is an open-road, motorsport endurance race established in 1927. It’s for historic cars and passes through some of the most scenic parts of Italy. The full course goes from Brescia to Rome and then back again. It lasts for just one week so we were very lucky to see it. They did a couple of circuits of old Gubbio to cheering crowds before stopping for their lunch break. One car ended its adventure there however. The shiny red Masarati had had its side badly bashed in during a crash, and was now taped off and guarded by the police, ready to be towed away.

After the excitement of the car rally we continued up to the top of the town and reached a curious-looking funicular up the mountain to the little church. Being a bit nervous of heights we had to pluck up courage to get into one of the open- air cages suspended from a moving wire. It didn’t stop but only slowed down for us to board, helped by an attendant. The cars were like metal, elongated bird cages which accommodated 2 standing people. We were carried high above the trees on the steep hillside. When we dared to look we were treated to wide sweeping views of the town and the countryside around. As we climbed we got glimpses of bare mountain peaks above the tree line in the middle distance. Despite our initial nerves it proved to be a smooth, sedate experience and soon we were being helped out of our cage at the top.

We had climbed up to see the little church of St Ubaldo, which displays the remains of the town’s patron saint in a bronze urn in front of the altar. Actually, the revered body is missing 3 fingers, which were hacked off by a manservant as a religious keepsake! Although small, St Ubaldo’s has actually been given the title of a Basilica because it has been visited by a couple of Popes. It had a small courtyard surrounded by cloisters. The Basilica also houses 3 huge, candle-like structures called Ceris. They weigh 400 kilos each. These decorated wooden pillars topped by statues of “rival” Saints are carried round the town on the 15th May, the birthday of Ubaldo. I say carried, but they are actually raced round the town by rival teams to entertain cheering crowds. The 3 teams wear different colours and represent different parts of the town. Sometimes things can get so heated amongst the supporters that scuffles break out. The event is called the Corsa dei Ceri ( Race of the Candles.) Despite the apparent fierce rivalries, it is the tradition to always let St Ubaldo’s candle win. The others have to make sure they get back inside the Basilica before the leaders close the doors. G told me that the pillars have been known to topple over and crash into the crowd. The other year, a watching American tourist was tragically killed. One spectacle to miss I think!

We looked around and sat quietly for a while. Hardly anyone was there. It wasn’t exactly the Sistine Chapel! Then we plucked up more courage to go back down the mountain side in the bird-cage lift. The man had trouble closing the gate of our cage because of the rucksack on my back. Luckily he succeeded just before we plunged off into the void. I exaggerate for effect! It was actually a gentle ride down.

Our last stop in Gubbio was at a gelateria. While in Italy it’s compulsory to have at least one ice cream. We all had 2 flavours. Many people around us had whipped cream on top of their ice cream but we thought that was a bit over-the-top. Give me a 99 anyday! My double dose was of pistachio and coconut. It was delicious and very refreshing on a hot day.

The only thing left was to walk back to the car which was doing a good impression of an oven as it had been sitting in the baking sun all day. ( All the shady spots had been taken.) The magical air-con soon performed its trick and, after picking G up from the motor-bike shop, we had a comfortable drive home to our base in Perugia. Everyone was tired but happy. We had been well and truly Gubbioed!