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Italy Self Catering holiday properties in and around Umbria |
Nocera Umbra. Umbria. Italy From £loading... for 7 nights |
About Nocera Umbra. Relax in this cosy holiday home with shared pool access. The interior is warm and well laid out, from the modern kitchen to the living area with its comfy sofa. Cook with loved ones, dine together with a glass of wine, then unwind on the sofa. The shared pool offers refreshing dips morning or evening, with sun loungers for lazy afternoons. Try a game of petanque or let children enjoy the garden swing. Visit Lago di Fiastra for swimming and walks, explore Nocera Umbra's historic lanes and medieval walls, hike through Monti Sibillini National Park, or discover Assisi and Spello for art, culture and Umbrian life.
Nearby attractions. Golf course: 35000 m
Marked hiking trails: 8000 m
Tennis court: 4000 m
Bicycles for rent: 4000 m
Horse hire: 3300 m
Water park: 4000 m
Marked trail, length 5-10 km: 8000 m
Mountain bike trails, 5-10 km: 8000 m
Fitness centre: 7000 m
Distance airport PEG: 46000 m
Nearest habitation: 5 m
Distance shopping: 4000 m
Nearest restaurant: 1300 m
Nearest city: 4000 m (Nocera Umbra)
Distance water: 70000 m (Lake)
About Umbria
We finally spotted the sign for Nocera Umbra just as my daughter announced she needed the loo with the urgency only a seven-year-old can muster. The village sits perched on a hillside in the green heart of Umbria, and as we wound our way up the narrow road, the stress of the journey began to dissolve. Stone houses clustered together, terracotta roofs glowing in the late afternoon sun, and somewhere in the distance a church bell rang. It was exactly the sort of scene I had been hoping for, though I was too busy gripping the passenger seat to fully appreciate it at the time. The property itself was a converted farmhouse on the outskirts, surrounded by olive groves and what I later learned were walnut trees. We pulled up on the gravel driveway, and I will admit to a small flutter of relief that we had actually made it. The owners, a friendly local couple who spoke charmingly broken English, were waiting to hand over the keys. Within minutes they had produced lemonade for the children and a bottle of their own olive oil as a welcome gift. I immediately felt guilty for every unkind thought I had directed at my partner during the sunflower incident. Stepping inside, the first thing that struck me was the coolness. Thick stone walls and terracotta floors had done their job admirably, and after the heat of the car, it felt like walking into a natural refrigerator. The kitchen was simple and functional, with a proper wooden table that would become our headquarters for the week. There was no television in the main living area, a detail that initially panicked my son until he discovered the pile of board games in a cupboard. Sometimes the old ways work best. I unpacked while the children explored the garden, their shouts of discovery carrying through the open windows. The pool, I noted with satisfaction, was not one of those ostentatious affairs but a modest rectangle tucked among lavender bushes, clearly designed for cooling off rather than showing off. Beyond it, the land fell away to reveal a view of rolling hills that seemed almost impossibly green. I stood there with a tea towel in my hand, caught off guard by a sudden sense of peace. It was not a dramatic moment, nothing worthy of a film score, just a quiet recognition that this was exactly where I needed to be. That evening we walked the ten minutes into the village centre, following a path that cut through more olive groves. Nocera Umbra is not a place that shouts for attention. It is modest, slightly worn around the edges in the most appealing way, with a handful of shops and a couple of restaurants that clearly cater to locals rather than tourists. We ate simple pasta at a trattoria where the owner seemed genuinely surprised to see us, then wandered back in the dark, the children sleepy and my partner carrying our daughter on his shoulders. The stars were extraordinary, unaffected by any significant light pollution, and I found myself walking slower than necessary, reluctant to reach the house and end the day. The mishap of our arrival had become, already, a story we would tell. That is the curious thing about family holidays. The disasters become the memories you treasure, while the perfect moments slip by almost unnoticed. I did not know it then, but that evening walk would stay with me longer than any carefully planned excursion. Sometimes getting lost is the only way to find what you were looking for. |
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