A Midsummer’s Tale

When Rome’s glitterati became too much, screenwriter Suso Cecchi d’Amico retreated to a cliffside terrace on the Etruscan Coast. There, with sea air in her hair and pine needles at her feet, she wrote some of Italy’s most enduring screenplays.By the late 1950s, Suso had written some of the most celebrated Italian screenplays of the century—Bicycle Thieves, Bellissima, The Leopard. In Rome, she was part of the postwar glitterati, moving easily among directors, actors, and producers in a whirl of premieres, late-night dinners, and endless deadlines. Rome adored her, but its social whirl was relentless. So every summer, she slipped away to Castiglioncello, a place that offered her an entirely different pace altogether—an escape without ostentation. Here, she could rise early, take her coffee on a shaded terrace above Punta Righini. She called it “the creative holiday”—not because she stopped working, but because the quiet beauty of Castiglioncello made her writing sharper. From her terrace above the cliffs, she could hear the slow slap of waves against the rocks, the distant laughter of children on the spiaggia, and the rustle of pines in the afternoon breeze. Here, she wasn’t Suso the screenwriter; she was simply a woman at her desk, drinking coffee and coaxing dialogue out of the sea air - in Castiglioncello she found the luxury that eluded her in the capital: time.In Castiglioncello she also shed the weight of Rome’s expectations, finding in the town’s measured pace a way to let her characters speak more clearly. Her days unfolded with a kind of languid precision. Mornings in the Pineta Marradi, roaming under the deep green canopy; afternoons scribbling in notebooks while the light turned the water turquoise; evenings in the company of friends like Bice Valori, Paolo Panelli, or sometimes even Visconti himself, who might drop by on his way north. The little piazzetta became their salon, and the conversations could drift from politics to cinema to the absurdity of beach fashion without anyone glancing at the time.Even after she returned to Rome each autumn, the town’s pace and atmosphere stayed in her work. If you know where to look, you can still catch glimpses of Castiglioncello in her films: an unhurried grace, a conversational cadence touched by the salt air and pine shade.There is a particular quality to the light in Castiglioncello—softened by maritime haze, that filters through the needles of its pine trees —that seems to slow time to a civilised pace. It was this, perhaps, as much as the discreet cliffside villas and the sea’s measured rhythms, that drew screenwriter Suso Cecchi d’Amico to this secluded crescent off the Etruscan Coast.For those seeking the same, the formula is unchanged. Arrive by the slow train from Pisa, take the steep path to the sea, claim a corner table in the piazzetta, and let the Etruscan charm do the rest.We loved wandering through Castiglioncello for its understated old-world charm; shaded lanes, leafy piazzas, and the dapple of pine-filtered light. Here, small details quietly define the atmosphere, lending the town a measured, unhurried elegance.
We can recommend a stop at Fito – Ristorante Vegetale e Cocktail Bar Botanico, nestled in the historic Limonaia (lemon house) within the Parco del Castello Pasquini. Its serene garden, lush greenery, and rustic charm make it the perfect spot to pause, enjoy botanical cocktails or plant-based cuisine, and soak in the quiet beauty of Castiglioncell - a place that feels made for roaming and reflection.

For this trip we travelled lightly with our handcrafted Quentin Tote in Birch and two smaller companions, the Nara Bucket Bag (currently available in limited release via our studio) and the Camille Clutch in Birch. 

Imagery by @ceciliaavolpi_ph

Film Image: Angelina (L'onorevole Angelina) 1947 Italian film presented at the 1947 Venice Film Festival: co Written by Suso Cecchi d’Amico.