Volterra's Etruscans held out against the encroaching Romans longer than most, but by the 3rd century BC the city had fallen. The most visible evidence of the occupation is a Roman theatre, the best preserved in mainland Italy, insisted our guide, which was for many years buried beneath the town's football pitch. Like other Tuscan towns, Volterra's population dwindled with the onset of the Dark Ages, only to be reinvigorated by the Renaissance. Tower houses were built with drawbridges to access the homes of allies, so family members would not have to walk the dangerous streets. Volterra's pinacoteca (art gallery) is housed in one such tower house, complete with original wall paintings, alabaster window panes and a lovely piece of early Renaissance art, the Deposition by Rosso Fiorentino, which is full of movement, colour and swishing fabric. However, the upper levels of this tower, like all the others in Volterra, were knocked down in 1472 by the Florentine Lorenzo the Magnificent, who, in a show of dominance, also killed 1,000 citizens. To this day, Volterrans despise the Florentines.
Volterra is a delightful town, replete with history, and – as yet – untainted by excessive tourism. Real people live here, congregating in the fabulous Don Beta restaurant on Sundays for lunches of pecorino, prosciutto and fresh pasta. There are old-fashioned shops selling delicious local produce and the local Chianti Classico. On our way out we popped into a fishmonger's where live crustacea were tapping about on the wet counter, and bought a string bag of fresh clams.