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As our cycling tour of Umbria drew nearer, the subject of hills cropped up in conversation with increasing regularity. 'Umbria's hilly, it's like Tuscany, everyone says it's hilly!' my partner would aver.

'Don't worry, it's not all hilly – not this bit anyway,' I would reply, only half-sure of myself. And I was half-right.

The central Umbrian valley - we would learn - is broad and flat, patchworked by agriculture and irrigation. But like a giant saute pan, higher ground rears up on all sides, verdant slopes tracked with vineyards and olive groves.

Green and rolling: a typical Umbrian vista.

Flat, with hills: The walled medieval hilltown of Montefalco was the longest climb on the trip - but there was a memorable lunch at the end of it.

As in neighbouring Tuscany, walled medieval towns take up commanding positions: from the familiar – such as Assisi and Perugia – to less well-known citadels like Spello, Montefalco and Bevagna.

To get around, we had chosen a self-guided cycling tour, which means you ride on your own, without a guide or other punters.

THE CYCLING NEWBIE PERSPECTIVE

By Vicki Owen

Umbria might not have been as pan-flat as I was promised - nor the bikes as light as expected. But don't be put off by the prospect of sore legs when you're 'supposed to be on holiday'.

Getting around by my own steam I felt not only proud, and like I had achieved something, but more relaxed and all the more appreciative of my surroundings and Italy's stunning buildings and townscapes.

The atmospheric churches are also great places to cool down! You might even be more likely to stumble across things by accident on a bicycle - especially if one of you has some vague instructions and the other a not-very-detailed map and you're foolishly not doing very well at following either.

One wrong turn sent us bumping along a dirt track we hoped would follow the canal but that ended abruptly at a shallow river. Slightly off-piste, we were soon delighted to stumble across a hidden Roman temple just below the main road near Bovara - albeit with soggy feet.

You can also truly enjoy the absurd amounts of delicious food and wine when you know you have put a bit of effort into reaching the restaurant before it stops serving!

The holiday was a dream and has left me resolved to get fitter so I can see more by bike or by foot, as it has convinced me this is the best way to experience a place fully.

As well as booking the accommodation and offering hire bikes, the tour outfit (see details below) provides you with maps, route descriptions and local info, and transfers your luggage each day so it is at your destination when you arrive.

Installed at our Assisi hotel and briefed on the itinerary, we were left to explore the hometown of frugal Saint Francis before taking delivery of the bikes later in the day.

The town's immaculately preserved medieval centre draws thousands of pilgrims and tourists alike – particularly to the stupendous basilica dedicated to the saint that dominates its north-western reach.

The sense of ancient and meditative sanctity might for some tastes be compromised by the trinket shops and density of tour groups, but the panorama over the valley westwards across to Perugia and south towards Montefalco is unquestionably divine.

And interesting not least because it takes in a good deal of where we will be riding in the next few days.

It's a spectacular morning as we freewheel gently down from Assisi, traversing the lower slopes of Mount Subasio in search of Spello, which soon rears up ahead, looking much as it must have done 600 years ago.

In what will become a familiar pattern we lock up our bikes - which were a bit on the chunky side, but sturdy and reliable - at the city gate and take on the steep cobbled and stair-welled streets by foot.

Which is fine because the point of a trip like this, even for this keen cyclist, is to take your time: strolling the deranged alleyways scented by hanging baskets, ducking into the dark and cool of a basilica, dipping into an enoteca for some prosciutto, pecorino and whatever is the local vino rosso.  

The first was one of the longest day's riding at about 23 miles and took us to our lodgings at the beautiful agriturismo Casa Giulia in Bovara – but not before we'd bumped into the Giro d'Italia (Italy's equivalent of the Tour de France).

We arrive just as the the forty-minute motorised vanguard, the breakaway leaders and finally the peloton zip through with 10km to go to the finish town of Foligno – which we had just come through. This happy coincidence had not been, I was forced to insist, part of some trip-booking masterplan.

The Bridge of Towers or Ponte delle Torri crosses a deep gorge and connects Spoleto's castle with a fortification tower on the other side of the gorge.

And so it went pleasurably on, rolling through fields and olive groves, verges decked with honeysuckle and poppies, towards the reward of a cold beer in some medieval piazza or other at the end of each day.

The valley floor is criss-crossed by a network of navigated rivers, canals and irrigation channels – and our detailed directions frequently take us along them, on quiet lanes also open to cars and on gravel towpaths.

Breathtaking basilicas: The cathedral at Spoleto and the church of St Francis at Bevagna

It's not all lyrically bucolic though. There is some light industry in the valley and it is populated and visited heavily enough that you never feel you are truly 'in the middle of nowhere'.

Hilltop Montefalco is the biggest climb and we are rewarded at the top with its expansive medieval piazza and a truly splendid lunch in the shady garden of the upmarket Coccorone restaurant. Steak from the chianina breed of cattle is matched with Sagrantino di Montefalco – a rich and complex, densely coloured wine particular to the area.

It's a good job it's downhill all the way that afternoon.

Pretty old .... The fifth-century Church of Saint Angelo in Perugia.

Distant hills: A view of the central Umbrian valley over the rooftops of Perugia.

At Spoleto we thrill at the vertiginous Ponte delle Torri and in Bevagna's charming and seductive streets we come across an austere candlelit procession, a statue of St Francis born aloft by priests on a circuit of the town, with a retinue of nuns, locals and four-piece band.

Finally comes Perugia, which even for someone suffering antiquity fatigue can't fail to impress. We walk the maze of cobbled streets until we drop, amazed and silenced, at one of the oldest churches in Italy. Dating from the fifth century, the serene Tempio di Sant Michele Arcangelo has at least seven hundred years on the many medieval and renaissance basilicas that have punctuated our trip.

The small town of Spello was the first lunchtime stop, halfway between Assisi and Bovara.

Stumbling through to the rear terrace of a restaurant-bar on the city's eastern flank, we are greeted with an unbroken vista of the valley, with Assisi and Spello nestling in the lower flanks of Mount Subasio, twenty miles opposite.

Our cycling trip might be behind us, but there it is laid out before us.