It is no coincidence that many of the shades of the colour brown, in any box of colours, whether they be tempera, water-colours, pastels, or oilpaints, have Italian names: terra cotta, terra di Siena, terra di Siena bruciata. It is in fact from this part of Tuscany, south of Siena, that the pigments used to make these colours come, pigments so rich that they were used by all the greatest Italian painters until the advent of synthetic colours.
A lunar landscape, metaphysical if seen in August or September, an undulating sea of “creta” (clay). Long waves of ploughed land that changes colour every square metre: from grey, to brown, to ochre, to yellow, to brick. As if it were an enormous Japanese zen garden, the ploughed furrows snake up and down the hills, twisting back on themselves, creating fascinating graffiti.
With the spring, in April and May, the electric green of the young grain transforms the landscape into velvet cloth waving in the wind as far as the eye can see. Here and there is a touch of pale yellow, or of magenta, depending on whether the crop is rape, lucerne or mustard.
It is in June and July that the Crete, the clay hills south of Siena, reach their chromatic highpoint: this season sees the triumph of the yellow of the sunflowers and of the broom, of the gold of the ripe grain, striking as the golden backgrounds of the Sienese painting of the 1300s. Only in the prairies of the American Midwest can one admire a similar landscape; but those prairies lack the cypresses set here and there on the hilltops, solitary sentinels, landmarks that distinguish the Tuscan landscape from any other in the world.
Perhaps the Crete, before the advent of the mechanisation of agriculture in the 1950s, when it was a wild and uncultivated territory, characterised by small canyons, dug by the rain in the clay, inhabited only by wild animals, were even more magical. Only a few traces of all this remain; nevertheless, we are grateful to the farmers of today for the wonder we feel as we look at their marvellous yet ephimeral seasonal opera of Land Art, unthinkingly created with their tractors.
It is no less amazing to venture along the Fosso Bianco of San Filippo until you reach the steaming calcarious waterfall of white stalactites. Or else to arrive in winter in the square of the village of Bagno Vignoni, entirely taken up by a large pool from which escape smoke and steam, built in the Middle Ages around a hot spring, to which, among others, Lorenzo dei Medici, il Magnifico, made the long journey from Florence to cure h ...
At that time it was an adventure to travel those 80 miles. The roads were traps, unsafe and infested with brigands, such as the infamous Ghino di Tacco, who, laying in wait close to Radicofani, a high rock situated on the border between Tuscany and Lazio and from which there is a spectacular view of the Val d’Orcia and of all of the Crete, did not balk at kidnapping and holding hostage cardinals and bishops who were on their way from Rome to take the waters at the hot pools of Bagno Vignoni.
Together with those of Rapolano, San Casciano dei Bagni and many other small springs scattered throughout the Crete, Bagni San Filippo and Bagno Vignoni are part of the vast system of thermal waters, including Saturnia and Petriolo in Maremma, that surrounds the base of the dormant vulcano, Monte Amiata.
But it would be misleading to paint the Crete as a desert of clay and sulphurous water. Founded by the Sienese Republic of which this vast territory was part, on the hilltops in fact stand beautiful medieval villages like Montalcino, home to Brunello, perhaps the most famous Italian wine in the world; Pienza, a small jewel of Renaissance town-planning, designed by Rossellino on commission from Pio II, the pope who belonged to the noble Sienese Piccolomini family, and who established his summer residence there; and then there are Montepulciano and San Quirico; castles like Ripa d’Orcia and Gargonza, still standing after many centuries; abbeys like Monte Oliveto Maggiore, an important monastery founded by San Benedetto in the fourteenth century, in the cloister of which one can admire the perfectly preserved frescos by Signorelli and by Sodoma, which narrate the life of the Saint The monastery is still inhabited by a substantial community of monks whose ethereal and refined Gregorian chants echo in the church at the time of Vespers.
Quite different decibels are produced by the deafening roar of the motors of the vintage cars, old Ferraris, Alfa Romeos, Porsches, and Mercedes, that every year in the month of May, dart along the tortuous roads of the Crete. This suggestive procession of old racing cars is a reenactment of the Mille Miglia, the Thousand Miles, once the craziest road rally in the history of cars, in which competed pilots like Nuvolari, Ascari, Fangio. The cars, which leave from Rome, travel through Radicofani to Pienza, San Quirico, to then continue along the old Cassia road, arriving in Siena and Florence, and finally reaching Brescia after having crossed the Appennine Mountain Range. A sight not to be missed, a further reason for visiting in spring this area, which is, to my mind, together with Maremma, the most beautiful part of Tuscany. For anyone who prefers decidedly slower rhythms, the bicycle is the perfect means for moving about the gentle hills of the Crete. But be warned! Get fit first, there are also a number of very steep climbs!