The hidden gems of Castle Soave
After three days in Bellagio and Lake Como, we were ready to head out of town. Because of the location we chose and the general road challenges that exist on Bellagio (no cabs allowed, only car and driver, walking or bike, and of course, parking limitations) we grew fatigued of trying to avoid getting hit as we squished ourselves against the walls as cars zipped by. And while I don’t mind a periodic good look at the rock wall now and then, when I can make out individual strands of grass as Rog tries to avoid oncoming traffic, it’s time to go.
The drive to Verona from Bellagio, Italy a straight and easy one, with the exception of several road construction projects that weren’t identified on either Google maps or our internal GPS system. It wasn’t a serious problem, but annoying when you lose ten minutes here and there.
In the San Briccio valley of Verona, heading up to our rented villa. This is a northwest facing view.
The heart of wine country
Located on the outskirts of Verona, both towns of San Briccio and Soave (pronounced So-ahh-veh), are both identified as Verona, and a suburb within. As such, the town is listed, and as a (VR) behind it. It would be like saying Russian Hill in San Francisco and the signs reading: Russian Hill (SF). The Italians make it easy so locals and foreigners alike understand where they are at all the time.
San Briccio is about fifteen minutes outside the center of Verona. The owners of the three-story villa we rented are both architects, and lived in this home as they raised their two children. When the kids became teens, the family moved into Verona proper, the “scenic” drive through the mountain roads too much, especially during high traffic times where the drive is more like forty.
The hilltop homes of San Briccio offer a 360 degree view of the valleys below–stretching northeast of Verona, pictured above.
Winding up from the valley through acres of non-stop wine fields, to the mountain top offering a panoramic, 360-degree view of the San Briccio valley below. We could see the neighboring town of Soave, and the fortress castle in the distance.
Free parking on the street (hurray), walking over a canal (upper left), the mainstreet at 4 p.m. in the Castle Soave township (upper right) and the walk to the end of the street. The building at the left is where you turn right, walk up a 1/16th of a mile and you are at the caretakers home.
On both sides of the hill are miles of wine fields, the area producing dozens of brands of vino. The surrounding hills have been cultivated in stair-stepped manner to provide the largest yield. We can appreciate the effort and beauty even if we don’t drink the stuff, but our wildest culinary dreams were met with the food, so don’t cry for me Argentina, we haven’t gone without.
From the caretakers home (left) and the less-than-steep walk from the lower village (right).
Today, the privately-owned castle has a caretaker who lives on the property in a converted sentry house with his German shepherd. The entry fee for four, two adults and two children was 24 Euros (adults 8, children 4). The walk up from town is short and steep, but not too bad compared to all that we’ve ever done thus far. Once at the entry station, it’s less than a hundred feet to the primary entrance.
Set on the highest hill, Castle Soave’s fortress walls extend around the town of Soave proper, which is now converted shops and restaurants, although it’s home to several thousand full-time residents lucky enough to live with castle and wine country views.
Why it’s called a castle is unknown to all of us. The lone attendant within the Captain’s private chambers told us Castle Soave was used for centuries a military fortress for several reasons to protect the town from the neighboring community. It was originally built in the 10th century, the twenty-five-foot-high, two-foot-thick rock walls were built around the town to defend against an attack. Within the highest reaches, two floors exist; one for the Captain (the Italian version of a General) and then a lower level, rather small room for the guards. The remaining part of the rampart was all watchtowers and fighting stations.
From this areal view shot by my drone, you get an idea of the size of Soave proper, the fortress wall a clear line of demarcation.
The armory and guards station is rather small, with attendant saying the room slept only five guards at a time. The rest were on duty around the clock. The Captains private floor has four gracious rooms, the foyer, where he received his soldiers and visitors, his table and three-seat bench in front of a floor to ceiling fireplace. To the left is his bedroom, the ornate bed, armoir and facilities far fancier than the Prince’s rooms in Germany and Switzerland. The Italians knew how to carve a thousand years back! To the right of the foyer is the eating area then library. Up the steps from the library is the Captains private garden, a spot of greenery where he could presumably plot his next battle plan. To the left is the escape door which isn’t concealed at all. If the man needed to use it, speed was the factor, not illusion.
This is the Captain’s escape door off his private garden. It’s thought never to have been used. Little factoid: the last Captain murdered the ruling family in cold blood, ruled himself for 20 years, then was killed in battle with the sword. Served him right.
My favorite part
The best part of this inner military area was the prison. Approximately 100 feet high, all capital punishment was conducted in this chamber of death. The top three floors (each with levels) were designated for nastiness (beheadings, dismemberment etc.) and the bottom floor was essentially the pit where the castoffs, sometimes entire bodies, were thrown down. Then every so often, they’d light the fire, but nary a phoenix would rise from those ashes. The tour guide told us that when the castle was opened to the public, human bones dating from the 1300’s were found.
It was a bad day for a prisoner who displeased the ruling Captain.
The weather in wine country
We didn’t know the afternoon rains so common in Switzerland were equivalent in Italy. We were up on the ramparts, looking down to the valley when it started dumping. From the highest rampart, where we walked the Captains private gardens and escape door leading directly out of the castle, down to his entrance, we were soaked through. But it was so warm that our clothes were dry and hair frizzy when we reached the car.
The upper courtyard, and steps leading to the Captain’s private quarters. The door below is for the soldiers who rotated eating and sleeping shifts in groups of five.
With the weather once again cooperating, we walked the streets, enjoyed our second serving of gelato and appreciated yet another town that seems to have been passed over by every tourist, “influencer” and Trip Advisor writer.
The Captain’s private dining room (upper left) the guards rooms (upper right) and the first courtyard leading to the upper courtyard.
What I’ve loved about the area
Finding a castle that’s rarely written about, seeing miles and miles of Verona, the old and new, past and present.
The Castle less-visited: with tourists sparse, no ticketing agent, metal detector or guide. Just walk up to the care takers office (where he sits with his dog on the floor) Upper left. The second doorway has a downgate, not a drawbridge, but includes a standard door for good measure. Me squatting so you can see the better view of the town behind me.
What I haven’t
The bugs! Oh. My. Gosh. Why hasn’t a single person in the history of man written about the ‘no-see’ems’ that come out when the heat of the day starts to ebb, changing from blistering to merely humidly hot? It’s so bad that in the thirty seconds it took to walk from my car to the front door, I got nailed by seven little wizards of torture. When we were at the pharmacy to pick up my prescriptions (from the next blog on the unexpected Italian hospital visit I had to make the second day here), the pharmacist asked if we’d been bitten at all, and we nodded vigorously. She produced a tube of cream that I have carried everywhere for three days, applying to the red dots of purgatory on all of our skin.
You don’t need to be a lover of wine to enjoy and appreciate Verona. It’s centrally located to zip down to Milan, over to Venice and not far from Lake Como. We are headed next to Salzburg, Austria, which is about as far as either Milan and Lake Como at three and a half hours. Definitely plan a few days, perhaps at a bed and breakfast or home to really soak up the local culture.