Had I been able to realize every one of the photo ops that I saw from the moving car, the image gallery would look something like this:

Deer cross frequently in these parts.
The old Flaminia way is crooked as can be.
Green fields. Yellow flowers. Bare trees.
Tunnels burrow through these mountains.
Sheep (maggot-like?) graze on a distant hill.
Wild asparagus being harvested close at hand.
Buildings sprout out of the rock.
Spires tower over the towns.
Spoleto comes into view.