Sarzana Might Be the Prettiest Town in Italy No One Talks About
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The Town That Waited for the Light
We hadn’t planned on Sarzana. Honestly, it was just a dot on the map between the Tuscan hills we’d been hiking and the coast where we planned to recover.
The weather had been garbage all morning, the train transfer was chaos, and we were mostly just hoping to avoid any more weird passengers or flooded trails.
But then we stepped off the train, looked around, and realized… this place was different.
Sarzana looked like it hadn’t changed in centuries—and had no intention of starting now. We walked straight into town through an old stone gate, vines crawling down the sides, the kind of thing you usually see on postcards or film sets.
It felt intact, like it had skipped the 20th century entirely.
What surprised me most was how calm it was. No tour groups. No pressure to hit “must-see” spots. Just lived-in beauty—cobblestones, shutters, and the kind of soft post-rain light that makes everything feel staged.
Technically, we had left Tuscany and crossed into Liguria. But Sarzana still had that Tuscan magic. Maybe even more so. It felt like a reward we hadn’t earned—a quiet, photogenic, low-key perfect town.
Sarzana made it into Walking Through Tuscany for a reason.
First Impressions of Sarzana
The best thing we did in Sarzana? We didn’t plan anything.
No map, no list, no TripAdvisor tab open. We just wandered. And within minutes, it felt like we’d dropped into a hidden version of Italy no one talks about—cobbled alleys, flower-covered balconies, locals actually living their lives. It didn’t feel like a tourist town.
It felt like a real one that just happened to be ridiculously photogenic.
We passed old gelaterias with giant plastic cones out front, narrow cafés tucked under banana-leaf canopies, and iron café tables still slick from the rain.
The kind of streets that are too narrow for cars, but somehow wide enough for an entire mood.
One alley opened up into a tiny piazza strung with lights, like a quiet movie set waiting for the extras to show up. No crowds. No tour guides waving flags. Just that golden-blue light after rain and a town that clearly knew how to lean into it.
We stopped constantly—just to look, just to shoot, just to take it in. Even the texture of the walls pulled me in.
If you’re wondering what to do in Sarzana—start by doing nothing. Just walk. Let the place show up for you.
Fortress Town With a Soul
You don’t stumble across a place like Rocca Firmafede by accident. Even in a town full of arches, towers, and photo-ready streets, this thing still manages to steal the show.
The first time we saw it, we’d barely made it past the old gate. Just off the edge of the old town, there it was—massive stone bastions, thick walls, and that very specific medieval energy: defensive, dramatic, and still standing after half a millennium.
It looked like it had been built for battle but was now just quietly sitting there, soaking up the light.
We circled it slowly, camera in hand, watching how the warm light hit the stone, how the curve of the bastions framed the neighboring rooftops. This wasn’t a ruin—it was still very much alive in the middle of a living town.
There’s a walking path around the outer walls and a small moat-like green space that makes it feel more like a park… with battlements.
The Prettiest Town You’ve Never Heard Of
Sarzana doesn’t land on the usual “must-see” lists for Tuscany—or Liguria, for that matter. And maybe that’s part of the charm.
No influencers trying to balance on Vespa seats for the shot. Just a small town that quietly delivers on everything people chase in Italy: history, light, food, and streets that seem to pose for your camera.
The architecture is all over the place—in a good way. You’ll find Renaissance facades, Art Nouveau curves, iron balconies, stone arches, and pastel shutters all sharing space on the same block. Nothing matches, and that’s exactly why it works.
And of course, it wouldn’t be an Italian town without a Garibaldi sighting.
He’s here in full marble intensity—shirtless, heroic, and carved into a chunk of stone that looks like it was dragged out of a quarry mid-scene. The man helped unify Italy, grew an excellent beard, and now presides over a quiet piazza where nobody seems to notice him anymore.
But we did.
Because you can’t miss a statue that looks like it could either inspire revolution or star in a gladiator reboot.
Even the walls in Sarzana tell stories—like this one, marked with pockmarks, patches, and cracks from who-knows-what century.
It’s the kind of detail you’d walk right past if you weren’t paying attention. But with the right light, the surface turns into a canvas of history—weather, war, restoration, and time.
I stood here longer than I care to admit, just staring at it. Sometimes the best photo you get isn’t the postcard shot. It’s the one no one else stops for.
Where We Stayed (and Why It Felt Like a Secret Garden)
The place we stayed—Affittacamere in Piazzetta—might’ve been one of the most photogenic buildings in the entire town. We didn’t even realize it was ours until we walked up and said, “Wait… this is it?”
It’s tucked right on Piazza Calandrini, maybe a five-minute walk from the train station, and completely wrapped in vines and climbing roses. No glowing sign, no “boutique” branding—just a weathered wooden door, overflowing window boxes, and the faint smell of espresso drifting over from the café next door. It looked like something you’d take a photo of, not actually stay in.
Inside, it was quiet, comfortable, and full of character. Cool tile floors, old wooden beams, and shutters that opened toward the fortress wall down the street. I stood there, still a little soggy from the train ride, listening to a full-volume argument happening in the piazza below—classic Italian soundtrack, no translation needed.
It was quiet, perfectly located, and impossible to forget. After hiking through mud and fog the week before, this was the kind of reset we didn’t know we needed.
The Magic of Golden Hour in Sarzana
We didn’t go out with a plan. We just looked out the window after a nap and realized the light had changed—that warm, low-angle kind of light that photographers chase and regular people just quietly enjoy without thinking about color temperature.
The shutters were glowing. The town looked like it had been staged for golden hour.
We stepped outside with the cameras, walked slow, and let the light do the work. Even the most ordinary streets were pulling it off. Shiny cobblestones. Shopfronts lit like art galleries. A woman walking her dog, windows behind her glowing amber like the town had been preheated to the perfect warmth.
The stone didn’t just reflect the light—it soaked it in. Shuttered windows caught the last rays like they’d done this a thousand times before. Even the rain-slick walls looked like they’d been dusted with a diffuser.
It was one of those evenings where every corner of the town felt like it had been waiting to be noticed.
You’ll find this shoot and story in Walking Through Tuscany if you want to see how it played out in full color (and slightly damp socks).
Dinner, Detours, and Zero Regrets
Dinner in Sarzana wasn’t anything we’ll be telling stories about. But where we had it? That’s another story.
We found the this osteria while drifting through back alleys strung with warm lights. It didn’t have a menu board or sidewalk tables—just a narrow doorway, some glowing windows, and the faint sound of silverware on ceramic. It looked… promising. Quiet, old, maybe a little haunted. Perfect.
Inside was all stone walls, dark beams, and the kind of ambiance that makes you forget you’re still technically drying out from the train ride. We sat down and ordered something simple—local wine, fresh pasta, a second basket of bread we probably didn’t need.
The food? Fine. Not great. Not bad. Just kind of there. The wine was better, and the setting did most of the work.
For the record, an osteria is one of those wonderfully vague Italian restaurant types. Less formal than a ristorante, more charming than a trattoria. Usually no printed menus. Just local stuff, scribbled on a chalkboard, and a sense that you probably shouldn’t ask too many questions.
We finished up, stepped back into the cool night air, and wandered home through alleyways that looked like a film crew had just left.
Sometimes the setting does the heavy lifting.
Sarzana – what to see, what to do, where… and how to actually get there
If you’re already in Tuscany—or anywhere along the northwest rail line—Sarzana makes for an easy, low-stress stop. Whether you stay overnight (highly recommended) or just come for the golden hour fortress shots, here’s what you need to know:
Where is Sarzana?
Just over the Tuscany border in Liguria. It’s about 20 minutes from La Spezia and technically not in Tuscany anymore, but don’t let that stop you.
How to get there
Regional trains run from Pisa, Lucca, and La Spezia. No transfers if you’re lucky, one if you’re not. Either way, it’s worth the ride.
Where to stay
We stayed at Affittacamere in Piazzetta, a vine-covered B&B tucked into a quiet piazza right in the heart of the old town. Just a few minutes from the train station and a short walk to the fortress—perfect if you’re arriving without a car.
Where to eat
We had dinner near our B&B—a quiet little osteria tucked just around the corner. The setting was great (stone walls, warm lighting, zero tourists). The food? Pretty forgettable. Not bad, just nothing we’re still talking about. If
What to photograph
Rocca Firmafede at sunset, vine-draped balconies, shuttered windows in side alleys, pastel buildings, random scooters parked perfectly for no reason.
When to go
Spring or fall = the best light and lowest crowds. Avoid August unless you like things closed and hot.
Sarzana doesn’t shout for your attention. But if you give it a day, it’ll stick with you.
Detours That Stick
We didn’t hike into Sarzana. We didn’t earn it. And that made it even better.
After muddy trails, mountain passes, and more than a few blisters, this little town felt like a gift. No mileage tracker. No soaked socks. Just a warm bed, a glowing fortress, and a night that didn’t ask for anything in return.
The thing about long journeys—whether you’re walking across regions or just trying to see more than the brochure version of Italy—is that the detours often become the real story. Sarzana wasn’t in our original plan. But it ended up being one of the most memorable, most photogenic, most surprisingly perfect stops on the entire trip.
Cobblestone alleys. Golden hour stone. Espresso at the window. And not a single “must-see” list required.
This stop became one of our favorite chapters in Walking Through Tuscany.
Grab the book if you want to read more of the stories behind the photos—and a few that never made it to Instagram.
