Mighty Massa Marittima

Sometimes a town flies in below the radar and hits you in all the feels.

It is grand, mesmerising and for some strange, undetermined reasons almost empty of people, as it’s not such a must-see destination as Siena, Pisa or Lucca. This is the best part of Maremma south of Siena: only covered by local trains and no highway, it is glorious but still relatively wild and not many people choose it over more famous landmarks. Serves them right.

Maritime Mass then, but Marittima doesn’t mean it’s on the sea – on the contrary, it’s on a hill like more or less all towns around here – rather it’s an adjective derived from Maremma.

I think it’s a case of town for which no amount of photos seen in advance can prepare you. But I can at least give it a try.

You park and get out of the car and — whaaat?

Post office reflection.

This made me believe that amore was a builder around here in a previous life and did this facade. Dom means home in Slovenian.

A boar is watching you.

These stairs give me a pyramid feel. (AS IF I ever climbed one.)

I gave a thumb-up to this guy for the view from there.

Down.

Across the street.

A marvel. I couldn’t reach it later. It’s either private or part of a museum.

Then we went around. This street reminded us of father’s hometown Maribor.

Yes, you are in my soul. Lucio Battisti and Gianna Nannini on the wall.

The bottom of paradise.

Porta San Bernardino.

Not much interest in ass meat.

Wasn’t me, promise.

Bestia looking at bestia.

Good bye, pretty Massa. We will be back.