Twice a year in Italy, a special weekend is dedicated to the FAI—the Fondo Ambiente Italiano, often compared to the English National Trust. One event takes place in spring and another in autumn, opening doors to remarkable historic sites, many of which are not normally accessible. Some are already protected monuments, while others are candidates for future preservation.
This year has offered a particularly rich selection. Among the highlights was the tiny Teatro di Vetriano—possibly the smallest theatre in Italy, if not the world—where tradition dictates that one brings one’s own chair. Despite its size, it is exquisitely decorated. Then there is Villa Bottini in Lucca, a rare example of a villa-style residence enclosed within city walls, along with other intriguing sites such as the castle of Nozzano.
However, today’s visit proved especially memorable: the fortress of Montecarlo, near Lucca. The outing combined two pleasures—a guided visit to the fortress and a concert performance of Pergolesi’s Stabat Mater.
Montecarlo, not to be confused with its namesake in Monaco, is a charming Tuscan hill town enclosed by walls, with a fortress crowning its summit. Founded in 1333 by Charles IV, Holy Roman Emperor, the town takes its name from him—“Monte di Carlo,” or Charles’s Mount. Its position was highly strategic, controlling routes between Lucca and Florence, rival powers in medieval Tuscany. Unsurprisingly, it was fought over many times by Lucca, Florence, Pisa, and others.

The concert took place within the fortress itself. While not a strictly historically informed performance—the piece was accompanied by an upright piano rather than a Baroque ensemble, and the singers leaned more toward a later vocal style—it was nonetheless an enjoyable and commendable effort. In such an intimate and historic setting, with a small and attentive audience, the experience felt special and authentic in its own way.
Following the concert, we were treated to a guided tour

of the fortress. The guide revealed details that might easily have gone unnoticed, from structural features of the keep to the defensive logic of the outer walls. Climbing to the top tower, we were rewarded with breathtaking views across the Tuscan landscape. From this vantage point, one could see as far as San Miniato, Pescia, and of course Lucca—clear evidence of the site’s former strategic importance.

Afterwards, we relaxed in a local bar with a Campari and a Valdostana—a savoury, sandwich-like speciality. Montecarlo today is also known for its excellent DOC wine, and there is a certain refined air about the town, perhaps due to its wine culture and festivals. It feels slightly more elevated than some neighbouring villages, though still warmly welcoming.

All in all, it was a deeply satisfying day: music, history, landscape, and good food combined. More than that, it felt like a small but meaningful contribution to preserving Italy’s extraordinary cultural heritage—surely among the richest in the world. There is still so much to protect and cherish, and days like these remind us just how worthwhile that effort is.