Carrara: The Mountains That Look Like Snow

From the autostrada they look like snowfields, improbably suspended above the September sky of Tuscany. It is not snow. The white on the peaks of the Apuan Alps is marble — and not just any marble. From these mountains came the stone for the Pantheon and Trajan’s Column, for Michelangelo’s Pietà and his David. Whoever drives up here drives to the birthplace of masterpieces. We have a morning, a car and a road that leads from Carrara through the Torano basin to the highest drivable point.

The marble peaks of the Apuan Alps above Carrara — white like snow under September clouds.
The marble peaks of the Apuan Alps above Carrara — white like snow under September clouds.

A mountain full of treasure

The numbers are hard to grasp: the slopes above Carrara show traces of at least 650 quarry sites, and no place on earth has yielded more marble. The Romans called the stone marmor lunense; the purest white — statuario — is still the benchmark of sculpture. And this mountain has an address in art history: in 1497 Michelangelo came to Carrara for the first time to choose the block for the Pietà; in 1505 he spent May to December up here quarrying marble for the tomb of Julius II. His favourite quarry, the Cava Polvaccio, lies in the Torano basin — exactly where our road climbs. The rough quarrymen of Torano, it is said, he valued above all others.

10:10 — Into the valley

The road follows the Carrione uphill, and the valley begins with a museum no one curates: by the roadside, under a 30 km/h sign nobody here reads, a truck of the previous generation is rusting away, a block still on its bed. A few metres on, a steam locomotive of the Ferrovia Marmifera stands as a monument — Carrara’s private marble railway, which from 1876 to 1964 climbed into the quarries on 33 kilometres of track, gradients of up to six per cent — its blocks still loaded, as if only the last shift had ended.

Steam locomotive of the Ferrovia Marmifera (1876–1964), its blocks still loaded.
Steam locomotive of the Ferrovia Marmifera (1876–1964), its blocks still loaded.

Then the workshops: stonemasons, sawmills and loading halls line the road, a statue waits at the fence for its buyer, conveyors bridge track and river. And the river is the strangest thing of all: the Carrione flows milky-white — marble dust from the quarries and slurry from the works, the mountain leaving the valley as liquid. You stand on the bank and watch the Apuan Alps drain toward the sea.

The previous generation of truck: rusting by the 30 km/h sign, a block still on its bed.
The previous generation of truck: rusting by the 30 km/h sign, a block still on its bed.
A marble statue waits at the workshop fence.
A marble statue waits at the workshop fence.
Works in the valley, the conveyor rusting over track and river.
Works in the valley, the conveyor rusting over track and river.
The Carrione below the sawmills, milky with marble dust — video, 14 seconds.

10:30 — Hairpins

Beyond the workshops the road winds upward, power lines cross the valley, and with every bend the white grows: first a patch between the trees, then a slope, then a whole basin. Marble blocks stand as guardrails along the carriageway; at the cava entrances they lie numbered in stock. You drive slowly — not out of caution, but because you want to stop every hundred metres.

Up the hairpins, the white in view.
Up the hairpins, the white in view.
Power lines over the valley, the quarry beyond.
Power lines over the valley, the quarry beyond.
Blocks at a cava entrance.
Blocks at a cava entrance.

11:00 — Walls like abstract art

You recognise the working quarries by the fence and the noise. Where the saws run, the walls stand smooth as sliced bread, veined grey-white, with black openings where the mountain is mined from inside. Up close these are no longer landscapes but pictures: planes, lines, cut edges — marble walls like abstract art. You stand before them and think that somewhere in this grey the next David is waiting.

A sawn wall, veined grey-white.
A sawn wall, veined grey-white.
The opening where the mountain is mined from inside.
The opening where the mountain is mined from inside.
Wall, gallery, cables.
Wall, gallery, cables.
A working quarry behind the fence.
A working quarry behind the fence.

11:05 — The basin at the top

Then the road ends, and a basin of white opens before you: terraces, spoil heaps, excavators as small as toys. The highest drivable point of the Torano basin.

Pan across the basin at the highest drivable point — video, 18 seconds.
The basin at the end of the road.
The basin at the end of the road.
The terraces above the highest drivable point.
The terraces above the highest drivable point.
The quarry road at the top, powdered white.
The quarry road at the top, powdered white.

11:25 — Trucks, cairns, pipelines

Whoever is up here shares the road with the people taking the mountain down: trucks carrying blocks the size of a small car, a plume of dust behind. Pipes run up the roadside to the quarries; the workplace begins long before you see it. And whoever arrives here apparently builds: by the wayside, visitors stack small towers of marble scraps — cairns made from the material of the Pietà. We did not photograph the workers, but their mood was impossible to miss: relaxed, friendly, in the best of spirits — as if they knew they work at one of the most storied places in human history, and were proud of it.

One block on the bed and a plume of dust behind: a marble truck on the valley road.
One block on the bed and a plume of dust behind: a marble truck on the valley road.
Cairns of marble scraps at the highest drivable point — the tunnel behind.
Cairns of marble scraps at the highest drivable point — the tunnel behind.
Pipes to the quarry: the workplace begins before you see it.
Pipes to the quarry: the workplace begins before you see it.
A marble truck passing under the gantry of the segheria.
A marble truck passing under the gantry of the segheria.

11:35 — The segheria

At the highest drivable point stands a ruin. A segheria — a marble sawmill, heir to the water-powered slab-cutting works that have run on the Carrione since the 17th century — stands roofless in the green, its loading gantry rusting over the carriageway, and on the cliffs opposite rust the derrick cranes of abandoned quarries. About half of the 650 quarries are worked out, and up here you see both side by side: the dead and the living. Every cava keeps its register, painted red on the stone — even the ones nobody needs any more.

The segheria on the valley road, its loading gantry rusting over the carriageway.
The segheria on the valley road, its loading gantry rusting over the carriageway.
Sawmill, gantry, rubble — the valley beneath the working quarries.
Sawmill, gantry, rubble — the valley beneath the working quarries.
Every cava keeps its register, painted red.
Every cava keeps its register, painted red.
The loading gantry spans the road.
The loading gantry spans the road.
Beneath the gantry.
Beneath the gantry.
The lane past the roofless sawmill.
The lane past the roofless sawmill.
Looking down the road from the segheria, blocks as guardrails.
Looking down the road from the segheria, blocks as guardrails.

And at the ruin, right at the top, a strawberry tree bears red fruit against the white slope. It is the last picture before the way down.

A strawberry tree at the ruin at the very top, red fruit against white stone.
A strawberry tree at the ruin at the very top, red fruit against white stone.

11:50 — The car is white

Back at the car it is clear what the mountain does to anything that stands still long enough: it is powdered white — paint, windows, tyres. The satnav shows the route through the Torano basin, unnamed road, end of the line. Next stop: Florence, 137 kilometres — where the David stands.

The valley powders everything white.
The valley powders everything white.
11:53 — the satnav in the Torano basin; next stop Florence.
11:53 — the satnav in the Torano basin; next stop Florence.

Eighty through the tunnel

The way down you share again with the trucks, thundering through the tunnels at eighty kilometres an hour — a real eighty, not a felt one — locals on a road they could drive in their sleep. Then come the unlit tunnels. There is no light, and yet they are bright: the marble dust on the walls and the water on the floor throw back the last of the daylight, a white tube inside the mountain. You drive in knowing that at any moment a truck may appear behind you, fast and heavy. You keep right, you keep moving — and your pulse keeps up. It is the most exciting kilometre of the trip.

12:00 — The sea, Torano and the last look

Halfway down, a small lay-by, and the valley opens: below lies Carrara on the plain, and beyond it glints the Ligurian Sea — the route the marble has taken for two thousand years. A reward before you have to leave this place.

View from the quarry over Carrara, the Ligurian Sea beyond.
View from the quarry over Carrara, the Ligurian Sea beyond.

Down in the valley lies Torano, the village at the edge of the quarry: colourful houses stacked on top of each other, the halls of the works above them, the walls behind. From here came the quarrymen Michelangelo preferred to all others. Half an hour later we are back on the autostrada, and in the mirror stand the white peaks that look like snow. Now you know what they are.

Torano, the village at the edge of the quarry.
Torano, the village at the edge of the quarry.
Colourful houses, the mountain above.
Colourful houses, the mountain above.
The last look from the autostrada: the marble peaks above Carrara.
The last look from the autostrada: the marble peaks above Carrara.

Visiting the quarries

  • Where: Carrara, northern Tuscany. Three quarry valleys begin right above the town: Torano, Miseglia/Fantiscritti and Colonnata. This tour: up via Torano and Piastra to the end of the road in the Torano basin.
  • Michelangelo’s quarry: The Cava Polvaccio (today Cava Michelangelo) lies in the Torano basin; local operators run tours into working quarries.
  • Driving: The quarry roads are public, but you share them with marble trucks — go early; the quarries work on weekdays, at weekends the ruins are yours. In the unlit tunnels: lights on, keep right.
  • Combine with: Colonnata (lardo!) at the end of its valley, and the viewpoints above Carrara towards the sea.
  • Expect dust: Whatever you park up there comes back white.

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