Tuscany’s forests in the fall

The first one handed me as I used to be barely off the motorway from Bologna. The subsequent, as the mountains got here in sight. There I used to be, making an attempt to maintain one eye on the jack-knifing highway, the different on the paint chart of inexperienced to gold unfurling alongside the abyss, after which they had been throughout me: one, two, three, 20 motorcyclists, all using out to see the autumn foliage.

And why not? Autumn is the finest time to go to Tuscany: the summer season crowds have gone, the temperatures have but to drop to actually biting, and if the solar’s out, it bathes the whole lot in a gold that’s straight out of a portray from the Sienese School.

And then there are the timber. Today, the best-known components of Tuscany are completely manicured — these excellent fields of wheat delineated by avenues of cypress — however initially, these well-known rolling hills had been largely forested. This, the Foreste Casentinesi National Park, straddling the border with Emilia Romagna in the north-east of the area, is maybe the most luxurious stretch left. It’s not as huge because it as soon as was — Renaissance Florentines hacked away at it to construct coffered ceilings for his or her grand new palazzos and the struts for the world’s most well-known cathedral dome. But at this time, its 142 sq. miles of beech, holm oak and chestnut timber placed on a show of a few of Italy’s best colors each autumn.


I used to be right here for one color in specific: the wealthy russet brown of the marroni that fall to the floor in October annually. Although in English they translate as “chestnuts” and, to our untrained eyes, they could look the similar, locals will swiftly put you straight. Compared with common castagne, marroni are greater, rounder, glossier and sweeter. And whereas chestnuts used to suggest the poverty of mountain dwellers (the chestnut tree was nicknamed the “bread tree”, supporting those that couldn’t develop grains as a consequence of the altitude) at this time, a re-evaluation of marroni, together with protected IGP (indicazione geografica protetta) standing for this space’s “marrone del Mugello”, is popping them into cult components.

Autumn colors in the Foreste Casentinesi National Park © Getty Images


A deer in the nationwide park © Alamy

Street stalls bought marrone jam, desserts and marrone flour, the latter from fruits roasted for 3 months over smoking chestnut wooden

I had come for the annual marroni celebrations in San Godenzo, a tiny city wedged right into a mountain cleft an hour north-east of Florence. Tiny it could be, but it surely packs a punch on the subject of marroni — chestnut flour from right here recurrently tops the podium for Italy’s best, and for the previous 50 years, the sangodenzini, as they name themselves, have been celebrating the finish of the harvest with an autumn blowout.

In Castagno d’Andrea — a mountain village a couple of miles away, and named after the fruit — the most important road was rammed with stalls promoting uncooked marroni, marble-sized for roasting, virtually golf ball-sized for boiling. There was marrone jam, marrone desserts and marrone flour, the latter from fruits which are roasted for 3 months over smoking chestnut wooden, to dry them out earlier than milling.


The Val di Corezza, in the Foreste Casentinesi National Park © Getty Images

People are so pleasant right here that on my final go to, two locals paid for my lunch in Castagno d’Andrea’s sole restaurant out of disgrace that they hadn’t invited me to hitch them. This time, Noemi Innocenti, San Godenzo’s 26-year-old librarian with a doctorate in Renaissance printed books and an encyclopedic information of marroni, launched me to bruciati ’briachi (“roasted drunks”): chestnuts dusted in sugar, doused in rum, and set on fireplace to create the world’s finest roasted nuts. Then she took me to the forest.

The hills round Castagno d’Andrea are stuffed with chestnut groves, however greater up the mountainside limitless beech timber mark the begin of nationwide park territory. Dante mentions Monte Falterona, the mountain brooding behind San Godenzo, in Purgatory however in autumn it’s paradise. Wisps of mist wrap round matchstick trunks. Leaves glow acid yellow on the branches, ochre underfoot.

We staggered up a near-sheer path — wartime partisans used these to come back down for provides in Castagno d’Andrea, stated Noemi — to moss-drenched boulders and much more spectacular timber, the color seeming brighter as the gentle light, the solely sound the crunch of leaves.

A road stall promoting ‘marroni’ in the village of Castagno d’Andrea © Julia Buckley

Harvest time for chestnuts in Tuscany © Alamy

The subsequent day I wakened in Castagneto, a hamlet excessive on the different facet of San Godenzo, to see sheets of mist weaving by way of the valley, the mountainsides flashing gold as the solar rose. As the hamlet’s identify suggests, Castagneto’s few homes — together with Tenuta Mazzini, the stonewalled transformed farmhouse the place I stayed — nestle amid chestnut groves, the roads are carpeted with conker mush, and chestnuts cleave to the steep hillsides, branches flailing in the air like characters from Tolkien.

Normally at the moment of 12 months I am going to the Val d’Orcia, Tuscany’s most well-known panorama, for thick ribollita soup and olive oil so recent that it tastes as if it’s laced with chilli. But this 12 months, after San Godenzo, I set off in search of extra autumn color.

I discovered it in Radicondoli, 50 minutes west of Siena in the Val di Merse, the place the golden woods had been damaged up by inexperienced fields and silvery olive groves. Wild deer skittered throughout the fields in entrance of me as I ate breakfast at Albergo Giogliano, a farmhouse slightly below the hilltop city.

Grass sprouts between Chiusdino’s medieval cobbles, its streets spiral round the hilltop, its alleys result in nowhere

From Radicondoli’s Piazza San Girolamo, the views of rippling hills prolong so far as Volterra and San Gimignano, however it is a world away from Tuscany’s vacationer honeypots. For one factor, that piazza is the city’s most important automotive park. For one other, the solely store catering to vacationers on the two most important streets is a self-styled “exhibition of Radicondoli hobbyists”: scarves, jewelry and mini fashions of farm equipment. Sure, guests find it irresistible in summer season, and there’s a gourmand pizza restaurant the place a Margherita prices €17 — however come November, it’s simply you and the crotchety outdated males in the solely bar left open.

Sheep graze beneath the hilltop village of Radicondoli © Alamy

And but that is each bit as lovely as San Gimignano and its ilk. I walked previous homes relationship again to the Thirteenth century, subsequent rebuilds and gap-plugging making a mish-mash of the partitions: stones, bricks and boulders all piled higgledy-piggledy, ruddier and hotter than the extra austere buildings of Florence province. Alleyways tunnelled beneath first flooring, threading one road to the subsequent; a final remaining medieval metropolis gate sagged tipsily in direction of the fields past. The most fashionable factor in city was from the Nineteen Twenties: the dolls’ house-sized theatre, its single column and two fiercely arched home windows making a strike for artwork deco in the center of the renaissance environment.

Spooling out past, whichever manner you appeared, had been the hills, their color damaged up solely by plumes of what appeared like smoke however turned out to be steam rising up from the magma, seven kilometres under floor, now drilled and piped to make clear vitality; a line of surprisingly lovely energy stations puffed away throughout the hills. Dante took inspiration from this land of fumaroles for his Hell; Galgano Guidotti would disagree. Born in 1148 to a rich household in Chiusdino, 20 minutes south of Radicondoli, he grew to become a hermit on the hill of Montesiepi in the valley under. After his canonisation, a Cistercian abbey was constructed at the foot of the hill, earlier than being deserted, its roof caving in 1786.

The Abbey of San Galgano © Getty Images

Riders move by way of a cobbled road in Chiusdino © Getty Images

Today, vacationers come from throughout Italy to see the gothic (in each senses) Abbazia di San Galgano. Its rose window was blown out and its cloister principally collapsed, and it’s dwelling to birds as a substitute of monks, however its partitions and columns nonetheless stand proud. I used to be staying at the Terre di San Galgano agriturismo, solely a discipline away, so I walked round earlier than breakfast — simply me and the birds, mist drifting by way of the mountains in the distance. The vines on the slope of Montesiepi had been yellowing, however there have been grapes at the abbey: bunches of them, carved on to the tops of columns, together with different florid leaves and vegetation. Amid the ruins, it’s an everlasting spring.

Topping a hill overlooking the valley, Chiusdino is as fairly as Radicondoli — probably extra so, because it appears oblivious to it. Grass sprouts between medieval cobbles; streets spiral round the hilltop. Alleys result in nowhere; staircases end at homes, or collapse into the tiniest of squares. The dinky church homes the saint’s cranium, staring out of a contemporary reliquary formed like the rock in which Galgano is alleged to have embedded his sword, renouncing his former life (the round church on Montesiepi is constructed round a mysterious sword hilt plunged into the rock).

As one in all Tuscany’s best-known saints, Galgano’s authentic reliquary was fittingly grand: an octagonal Thirteenth-century creation, gold-plated, sitting a full metre excessive on lions’ paws and embossed with 16 miniature scenes from his life. It is so treasured that Siena nabbed it till 2015, when Chiusdino opened its personal museum. And that isn’t even the prime draw, right here: a bas-relief of a fluffy-haired Galgano thrusting his sword into the rock by Urbano da Cortona, a scholar of Donatello, is even higher. He stands, the folds of his cloak straining round the button as he grips the sword, his excellent hair shielded from the components by a pergola of exuberantly bushy timber.

Those Tuscan timber, once more: marrone-growing, biker-attracting and, it appears, saint-protecting.


Julia Buckley was a visitor of the San Godenzo city council at Tenuta Mazzini (, which has one-bed flats from €80.
Albergo Giogliano at Radicondoli has doubles from €70, B&B (no web site; guide by way of or e mail [email protected]);
Agriturismo Terre di San Galgano has doubles from €86, B&B (

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