According to historians, this medieval citadel is said to be one of the best-preserved in Corsica. And the secret of its longevity still puzzles historians: how could a compact, isolated little castle, perched on a barren rock in central Corsica, have escaped the devastation that befell most of the fortresses of its time? For it is still there—the Castello di Serravalle—in the midst of a rugged, sun-baked landscape; still standing, eight centuries after it was built by the Amondaschi lords.
I wanted to see it to understand, to take in its territory from the impregnable promontory of Serravalle. It was a morning well into August—too late, as I realized later under the midday sun. We set out as a family—with my brother-in-law, my daughter, and my nephews—and it took us 25 minutes from Corte to find a place to park on a bend in the D18. Just a moment before, we’d caught a glimpse of the castle atop its hill.
Climb up to the Castello di Serravalle, under the blazing midday sun
The thermometer already reads over 30°C as we set out on the dirt and rocky trail. The climb, in full sun, tests our endurance, reddens our faces, and forces us to take breaks in the rare patches of shade provided by gnarled shrubs. Feels like: 40°C. My daughter seems to be struggling the most. After 20 minutes of grueling walking, we have no choice but to stop for a long while, using some of our water to dampen our caps and cool the backs of our necks.
The final meters of elevation gain fade into a silence that speaks volumes about our condition. Finally, with one last burst of effort, our legs tackle the rocky, steep zigzag path, while the fortifications and the central tower come into view through the sparse scrub.
Entering the tower: a challenge 5 meters above the ground
At this stage, it’s impossible to make out the castle’s layout—the scene is so chaotic. Only the massive tower serves as a visual reference point: at eight meters tall, it looms over everything at first glance. Just imagine that it might have risen another two stories during the time it was inhabited! It would have taken a great deal of determination to take on such a project.
In fact, as we walk around the breached wall, the site’s “defensive” design (and that’s an understatement) strikes us as even more surprising. It takes us a good five minutes to spot the tower’s entrance… That’s because it used to open five meters above the ground, directly into the void. It would have been impossible to enter back then without a ladder—one that could be retracted in the event of an assault. It’s hard to imagine climbing up there under a hail of arrows or cobblestones.
But as we marvel at this strange door, still a little dazed by the heat, I realize just how breathtaking the view is, too. To the west, the Niolu Mountains stand out against the horizon. To the north, the Golo Valley. Finally, to the east, Popolasca and Piedigriggio—the two villages this castle has long protected—look tiny. Such ruggedness for such a spectacular landscape…
The Amondaschi vs. the Rest of the (Medieval) World
Serravalle, of course, was never a castle designed for comfort. It is said to have been built in the 13th century by one of the Amondaschi lords, a dissident from the stronghold of Supietra, which was then considered THE main fortress of the region. At the time, the Castello di Serravalle was intended to serve as an outpost against the Pisans and, more “locally,” against the troops of the famous Giudice of Cinarca (whose real name was Sinucello della Rocca), the self-proclaimed lord of the island against whom the Amondaschi rose in resistance.
The conflict in question ended badly for the Amondaschi, since—already weakened by their own family disputes—they were driven from their citadels by Giudice di Cinarca and imprisoned in the dungeons of an enemy family, the Aschesi. To better contextualize the period of this lordship’s decline, it spanned a century, from 1264 to 1370—approximately. The chronicle even recounts that the Amondaschi and the Aschesi were locked in an endless vendetta, which ended with the total destruction of both lineages.
But that is another story—a tragic one, to be sure—that should not overshadow the astonishing resilience of the Castello di Serravalle. For neither Giudice di Cinarca, nor the peasants led by Sambucucciu d’Alandu, nor the Genoese (who literally detested the island’s feudal fortifications) ever dismantled this isolated citadel. In fact, it may have been its isolation that allowed it to escape systematic destruction over the centuries. Or perhaps it was because the Genoese decided to make it one of their outposts when they stationed a garrison there in the 15th century?
It must be said that the unobstructed view and the security offered by the citadel were genuine military advantages. Especially since, even today, one can still see another stone sentinel built on the hill across the way. Square, stocky, and almost identical in appearance: the Mont’Albano Tower. It is, in a sense, the counterpart to Serravalle, as it was built by the same dynasty—the Amondaschi—and designed to block access to the Giovellina from the other side of the mountain.
Toward the end of the Middle Ages, the two towers certainly maintained visual contact (a signal, a fire, etc.), and information was relayed from one rock to the other without any messenger having to cross the valley. The Mont’Albano tower, which was also partially destroyed, was renovated by the town in 2011. I wasn’t able to visit it that day, preferring to spend the afternoon swimming in the Tavignanu. But be sure to add it to your hiking itinerary if the weather is more favorable.
How do I get to Castello di Serravalle?
The Castello di Serravalle is visible from a distance, long before you arrive: from State Route 193, in the Taverna area, as you travel from Corte toward Ponte-Leccia, it already stands out atop its hill.
There are two routes to climb up to it. The first starts from Prato-di-Giovellina, near the bridge over the D18: you follow a thalweg uphill to the Bocca di Foatellu (467 m), then traverse along the mountainside to the castle (about 30 minutes), with a 120-meter elevation gain. The second starts at Piedigriggio: 2.2 km along the D18, past a lime kiln, then a marked trail that leads directly to the site, also taking 30 minutes.
