Ancient Walls, Outdoor Wonders, and Family Wines in Lucca, Italy

Standing on a broad, tree-lined pedestrian promenade in Lucca, Italy, we’re stories high atop 40-feet-tall red brick walls. Centuries old and remarkably intact, they measure an incredible 2.5 miles long and 100 feet wide at the base. These massive walls, called Le Mura Urbane in Italian, completely ring the historic center of this uncommon city in northern Tuscany.

When my husband, Bill, and I drove into Lucca recently for a two-week stay, the initial sighting of this imposing Renaissance-era structure rendered me uncharacteristically speechless.

I marveled at the walls’ grandeur and that they still exist at all, given the vagaries of fate. Their sheer size and might, though, attest to their enduring invincibility.

Lucca, a city that breathes history, certainly claims other distinctions. Savvy marketers call it “The City of 100 Churches” and “City of Art.” Composer Giacomo Puccini was born here. The botanical garden safeguards centuries-old and rare plants. But to me, the walls are the most stellar feature, and time spent on the embankment is my favorite pastime.

Walls and more walls in Lucca

“You absolutely must visit the walls,” insisted Paola Alderighi, a dentist who owns the apartment we’re renting, when we first arrived. Native-born and raised within Lucca’s walled section, she herself begins most days with a brisk 40-minute wall walk.

Actually, walls have defined Lucca through the ages, and in great part are still standing. Other Italian towns have city walls, but few can boast four circles and in as excellent condition as those in Lucca.

Second-century Romans built the first circle of walls, presumably about 30 feet high. The second circle is medieval, erected through the 12th to the 13th century to encompass new areas of growth. The third circle dates back to the 16th century.

“Our” walls are the fourth circle, and a defining feature of Lucca today. The last and by far the most whole in the series, they were completed in 1650 after more than 100 years of construction as fortifications to repel invading armies. Their purpose was to keep people out; now people flock to them. Ironically, they never were used for defense, but when the nearby Serchio River flooded in 1812, all gates were closed and reinforced, thus saving the city.

Like the Lucchese, we’re drawn to the walls, and my initial holy-cow, gee-whiz, get-a-load-of-them first impression lingers in my mind.

Wall-to-wall wanderings

This sunny Sunday morning, Bill and I and our visiting friend, Terry, climb down the steep stairs of our fourth-story apartment and exit onto Via del Fosso. We’re careful not to trip on uneven rectangular pavers worn from generations of footsteps and weather. On our right, we pass a continuous row of adjoining multi-family residences painted in muted earth colors and bedecked with flower boxes. Laundry, hung on lines stretched beneath a number of window sills, flutters in unseasonably hot and humid breezes.

At left lies a narrow, shallow canal with swiftly flowing water and, of all things, jagged pieces of crockery scattered along the bed (hurled out a window in the heat of an argument?). We proceed left down Via Elisa toward Porta Elisa, one of the six grand gates allowing entry into walled Lucca, and climb the pebbly stepped ramp just inside the gate to the top of the outer ring walls.

Several stories above street level, we find ourselves in a park like no other. The expansive area teems with life and movement. Judging by the size of the crowds, surely the majority of the population of Lucca – both residents and visitors alike – are among us.

People walk, run, amble, cycle, push baby strollers, and even propel themselves via open-air pedal carts. The roadway is wide – sufficiently so that it was once used as a racetrack. Now, cars are no longer permissible, but the local Carabinieri (police) still have rights to patrol in their marked cars.

On the interior side of Lucca’s walls are churches with soaring spires and steeples. Towers, including Guinigi Tower, the landmark of Lucca with its eye-catching, tree-filled rooftop garden. Residences and commercial buildings, shops and outdoor markets. Squares, like the Piazza dell’ Anfiteatro, which was built on the ruins of an ancient Roman amphitheater and still retains the elliptical shape.

Outside the walls are acres of grassy, moated fields. Blue-tinged mountains hover dramatically on the horizon.

Lining the path are restaurants, cafes, wine bars, museums, sculptures, and ramparts and bulwarks tunneled with secret passages and hideaways. Men seated at rustic tables, their concentration intense, play board games. Carefree children scamper among playgrounds.

Part way on our circuit, we overlook a property that appears out of place and time amid the heart of medieval Lucca. Lush lawns, richly toned ornamental flowers, earthenware pots of lemon trees, misting fountains, and monumental statues of Greek deities front an aristocratic-looking building with a Scarlett O’Hara-worthy staircase.

We detour down the walls to investigate the 17th-century Palazzo Pfanner. Surprisingly, this elegant building once formed the backdrop for one of the first breweries in Italy. The palazzo holds a Hollywood connection for appearing in the film Portrait of a Lady with Nicole Kidman. Nowadays, its large central hall houses a permanent exhibition of medical and surgical instruments from the end of the 19th century that belonged to Dr. Pietro Pfanner, a former mayor of Lucca.

Back on top of the walls, we encounter more activity. Hundreds of vendors are selling plants and flowers as part of Murabilia, the annual international gardening event in Lucca. Streaming from a long line of parked vans are dozens of women athletes. They sport logoed team apparel and prep for the imminent start of a bike race. An EMT group stages a promotional event beneath swaying inflatable arches.

The energy up here is palpable, the panoramic views stirring. I relish that my footsteps are now part of the history of these masterful walls, and I pick up my pace with a renewed vigor and sense of solidarity.

Holy cow. Gee whiz. Get a load of them.

Wine, dine, and Lucca lore

“Come for wine and snacks,” Paola invites us one night. She and her husband, Ferdinando Biagiotti, host private, small-group tastings to promote their family winery, Cantina Biagiotti, just outside of Lucca proper.

With production at 16,000 bottles, theirs is a small, intimate, and highly personal business. Ferdinando’s family crest (Humilitas in Coscientia, meaning Humility in Knowing) adorns every label. So, too, does stylized line art of Ferdinando’s face, testimony to the quality, passion, and integrity he imparts to his wine.

Dusk nears, bathing the vines in golden light. A dog barks as smoke from a neighbor’s burn pile punctuates the air. Paola hands us a can of bug spray to help deter the evening’s mosquitoes as we wander by one of their three vineyards.

Harvest is underway, and grape clusters – Ciliegiolo and Colorino among them – hang full and heavy. This is the first yield from these vines since Ferdinando changed from the previous owner’s chemical cultivation to biological (organic).

Entering the cellar, we hear bubbling and smell the fermentation emanating from inside stainless steel tanks.

Before us is a feast steeped in tradition, their timeless Tuscan heritage served on a platter and in a glass.

Fresh and aged pecorino with honey for drizzling. Salami made with prosciutto. Turban-shaped bread filled with olives and chestnuts. Warm lardo melting on crostini. Onion marmalade to spoon over thinly sliced roast pork.

Paola serves her hearty, homemade ribollita soup and, for dessert, her special buccellato bread layered with strawberries, red wine, and sugar. Ferdinando pours crisp Donna Paola white wine to start, then Steccofino (thin stick) red wine, slightly spicy with red and black fruits. He honors us with samples of Steccofino directly from the tank, the first non-family members to taste the upcoming 2017 vintage.

We eat and drink with gusto. Conversation, camaraderie, and cheer flow in abundance, as they should when forming new friendships.

“We chat, we eat, the wine, the sugar,” Paola sighs. “Ahh.”

Come tomorrow, Bill, Terry, and I will reinvigorate ourselves from the evening’s overindulgence the Lucchese way. We’ll walk, talk, and take in the scenery on the ancient walls of Lucca.