Montecarlo is a village defined by its stone borders. We have three historic gates, but unlike the famous, sprawling walls of nearby Lucca, our fortifications are a private affair. Two of the gates are topped by towers that remain strictly off-limits to the public—sanctuaries for their private owners, and a source of endless mystery for me.
In my ten
years of living here, I’ve often played a game of tower watching. I see laundry
fluttering high atop the Porta Fiorentina, the town’s grandest
entrance. I look at the modest Porta a Lucca (the Porticciola),
which is too small to even support a tower. But my real obsession has always
been the Porta Nuova, the gate closest to my home.
For a
decade, I’ve stared up at the barred window of the room above that gate. I
wondered: Who owns the keys? What does the world look like from those
heights? Is the room a pristine hidden study, or is it just a dusty kingdom for
the local pigeons?
Living in
Montecarlo comes with a particular kind of “first-world frustration.” My
terrace overlooks a beautiful private field and a majestic stretch of the city
wall. I can see the stairs leading up to the ramparts, but they are always just
out of reach. In Montecarlo, every watchtower and every stone of the portal
belongs to someone. I knew I was lucky just to have the view, but human nature
is a restless thing; I didn’t just want to see the wall—I wanted to walk it.
Porta Nuova. See those windows up there?
What would it be like to be the owner?
Three years
ago, a brief moment of luck landed me on those stones, but I was too
self-conscious to truly explore. I took a few hurried photos and scurried down,
worried I was overstaying my welcome with the workers who had let me in.
Last week,
everything changed.
I was
sitting on my terrazza, reading my Tex comic book and reflecting on
a classic Italian proverb: “La fortuna aiuta gli audaci” (Fortune
favors the bold). As if on cue, I spotted movement below. Workers had entered
the field. The gate was open.
I didn’t
hesitate. I was out the door and through that “forbidden” entrance in an
instant. With the blessing of the workers, I climbed the stairs and didn’t look
back.
I had a
mission: Could I make it all the way from the corner watchtower to that
mysterious room above the Porta Nuova?
I finally
found out what lies behind those bars. I saw the view I’ve spent a decade
imagining, and I felt the history of the stone beneath my feet. I’ve never been
one for “bucket lists,” but if I were, I’d be crossing a big item off today.
Want to
see exactly what I found up there? Come along with me on my latest YouTube
video: Walking the wall of Montecarlo!
Perhaps one
day I’ll meet the owners and return with a formal blessing—maybe even to show a
few guests the way. But for now, I’m just happy to have finally turned a private
mystery into a personal memory.
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More about The Gates of the Village
The grand Porta Fiorentina
- Porta Fiorentina: The "Grand Entrance." The largest of the three, facing East toward Florence. Look up to see the laundry of the residents who still live in the tower today!
- Porta Nuova: The "New Gate." Reconstructed in the 16th century, this southern entrance features a mysterious barred tower room—the focal point of my recent exploration.
- Porta a Lucca (The Porticciola): The "Little Gate." A modest 14th-century opening facing West toward Lucca. It is the only gate without a tower, earning it its affectionate nickname.
The Porticciolo, the little Porta a Lucca.
