Having toiled up the slope from which this town surveys the wide Tiber valley, you hardly know where to start, so crowded and compelling are the sights of Italy’s spiritual metropolis. If you come from the south you cross Monte Subasio at about 1,000 m, via San Damiano. On the way down, pause for view of the basilica of San Francesco, apparently isolated in the greenwood, as it was in the time of St Francis himself. When you arrive at it you will be hustled and elbowed among crowds of pilgrims and hucksters of garish pictures and plastic statuettes.

St Francis of Assisi (1182-1226) is buried in the crypt of this basilica of two halves, upper church and lower church. The cycle of frescos on the walls is attributed to Giotto. High-rise Piazza del Comune still exhibits the pavement of a Roman forum. The corroded pillars of a temple to Minerva, now a church, remind you of Assisi’s flourishing life centuries before St Francis. The architectural plan of the main square is admirably harmonious, as is most of the town. Note the elegant fountain in front of the Town Hall and the trailing potted plants at cottage windows. Take the cobbled path to San Rufino’s church (12thC); he was Assisi’s first bishop, predating St Francis. Going downhill, look in at Santa Chiara in the piazza of the same name which usually escapes mass tourist attention. Its design reflects that of San Francesco, which is appropriate because St Clare, founder of the ‘poor Clares’ was the feminine equivalent of St Francis. The austere and ascetic Clare died of under-nourishment at San Damiano’s convent. Earlier, when the place was a country chapel, St Francis had heard a voice saying: ‘Go, repair my house which is crumbling’ – the inspiration of his religious mission. At Santa Chiara you have some sense of the simplicity and self-denial of the Franciscan message.