The Alpi Apuane mountain range sprawls across north west Tuscany; a region of rock massifs, alpine meadows, chestnut and beech forests, karst cave systems, ancient marble quarries and a long human history.
If these mountains could talk, they would tell of the pilgrims who for centuries
crossed the passes on their journey to Rome; of the Liguri-Apuani people who from
300BC existed on subsistence agriculture, wild chestnut flour and mushrooms from the
forests, and who built churches and shrines to shelter the pilgrims.
They would tell of Michelangelo who came for the pure white marble to sculpt; of the horses and men carting massive marble blocks from ancient quarries; of the Partisan resistance hiding in caves along this rugged sector of the German defensive ‘Gothic Line’ in World War Two, and of the villagers who suffered shocking reprisals for helping them.
Life has been harsh in these mountains, but was not so for our happy band of hikers as
we set off mid-morning from Passo della Croce (a 1100 metre pass), following the Via
Francigena pilgrims trail.
As we walked through alpine meadows and chestnut forests, guide Marina took me all the
way back to 900 AD, telling of when the Archbishop of Canterbury walked this very same
way to Rome to be consecrated by the Pope. He travelled through the mountains, hiding
from the marauders of the populated plains, and took such thorough notes detailing his
route they are still referred to. For centuries, pilgrims followed his trail and
mountain villages grew to accommodate them, until the 1300s when the Great Plague
swept across Europe.
In recent years the Via Francigena has again become popular, the stone shrines and
churches restored. We arrived at a church in a small alpine clearing near empty stone
cottages, with a few grazing horses and muffloni (wild sheep). Villagers once planted
summer gardens in these clearings, said Marina. For us, with Anthony producing from
his pack vine-ripened tomatoes, pecorino cheese, salami, fresh focaccia, olives, plums
and grapes, it was a perfect autumn lunch spot. Later, we supplemented the feast with
wild raspberries, blackberries and blueberries, growing along the trail.
We came to another gentle pass, overlooking an old marble quarry, where Marina pointed
to several villages in the forested valley below. One of them, the medieval Pruno,
population 60, was where we would stay for the next two nights, in our very own
private apartments.
As we descended the aged, paved path we met a villager searching for porcini (wild
mushrooms). Sadly, it seemed we were just too early for the season, but no matter, for
hidden away in tiny Pruno was Trattoria Il Proveromo. With no menu, each day chef
Vasco Batelli creates his magic from the seasonal produce available.
What magic it was: antipasti of tomino cheese wrapped in lardo (cured ham fat),
cinghiale (wild boar) on polenta, spelt salad, olives and artichokes; followed by
ravioli with radichio, ricotta and truffle oil and beef braised in red wine; all of it
finally “digested” with Nocino, a walnut liqueur. Not surprisingly the trattoria was
filled with locals from other mountain villages, and from as far as the Tuscan plains
even.
Next day our climb to the fascinating Monte Forato, a 1200 metre high mountain with a
hole through its eroded karst summit, was not only a scenic highlight of the trip, but
also timely exercise to prepare us for the next evening’s creations by chef Vasco.
The Pruno villagers welcomed us into their tiny community. The priest invited us into
the 1614 baroque village church, explaining the history of its aged marble sculptures,
and giving us a private organ recital. He showed us the worn, stone altar in the small
piazza (village square) apparently used for pagan sacrifices, before Christians came
here in 830 AD. We were also shown inside the village clock tower, built in 1650,
which chimed with punctual precision every hour through the night, right beside my
bedroom window...
[end].
by Kathy Ombler.
