Tuscany had been tiring. We’d seen the sights and celebrated at a friend’s wedding, so once all the drama was over we needed somewhere to recover. We found it in the seaside town of Castiglione della Pescaia.
How different it was from Florence, Siena and Pisa, where armies of holidaymakers had tested my temper to the limit. Driving south down the increasingly quiet E78, away from the tourist-tastic cities, we wondered where everyone had gone. The roads were empty, the hills of the Maremma covered in pines and scrub.
I’d hired a car with an engine the size of a sewing machine – at one point I think we made it up to 20mph – so it took us a lot longer than it should’ve done to get to our destination on the Tuscan coast, the Riva del Sole resort.
Situated two or three kilometres to the north of the town, it’s a mid-century development that appealed to our love of retro glamour. In parts utilitarian and functional rather than elegant, the edges are softened by the planting that shades the estate. It was originally built for Swedish workers, which explains much of the design, and it remains hugely popular with Scandinavians. When we were there, just out of season, it was busy with couples and their toddlers.
The hotel has a big pool but we spent lazy if windy days on the sandy beach, on an endless sweep of a bay on the Tyrrhenian Sea. Looking up from our books we could see the islands of Elba and Giglio, and south to the promontory of Monte Argentario.
Apart from breakfast (a crowded affair but with an excellent buffet) we preferred to eat in town, which was a bit of a challenge. In low season there’s no hotel bus service and public transport stops in the late afternoon. And yes, said the hotel receptionist, we could get a taxi but the driver had to come from the town of Grosetto further down the coast, and that would cost a small fortune – before we’d even begun to pay him to go back and forth to town. Graham was rightly perplexed and I made a mental note to set up a taxi business in Castiglione.
We hired bikes instead, over the road from the hotel at the Esso petrol station. Cycling into town through the pines and then along the built-up but pleasant seafront, we stopped to watch the sun setting over the sea before finding ourselves a bar in the pedestrianised town centre. Of an evening we watched the world go by, families promenading with pushchairs in tow.
The old town of Castiglione della Pescaia is further up the hill, approached through a gate in the old walls that once defended its residents from attack. Dominated by a privately owned castle, it’s a quiet and atmospheric place with ancient narrow streets and centuries-old, well-maintained cottages. Free of cars, it’s also home to several attractive restaurants. We climbed to the top and could see for miles, to the beaches, marina and little harbour.
We ate well – good hearty fare in such places as Il Granaio, L’Antica Fontana and the excellent Sapori di Maremma. Il Beccafico was another good choice but a challenge with an Italian menu and a waitress who couldn’t speak a word of English. How we cursed our ignorance of the language… Later of an evening we regularly enjoyed the atmosphere at the Guru bar.
At lunchtime we sometimes got on our bikes and went to one of the cafes and restaurants on the town’s seafront for lunch, such as The Skipper.
Beyond the village to the south is a flat stretch of land that was once Lake Prile, where locals fished to make a living. And yes, that’s how the town got its name. Today, there’s little of the lake left but much of the land that hasn’t been reclaimed for agriculture remains marshy.
We drove through it on the one gloomy day, to the village of Vetulonia. It was once an important Etruscan town, and we walked through the ruins and visited the local museum during our few hours away from the resort.
But then it was back to the beach and the bars.