From penal colony and model farm to terrorists and mafiosi: the hidden paradise of Pianosa


There's a hidden gem in the middle of the Tyrrhenian Sea. It has miraculously remained sheltered from mass tourism, protected by its history and geography. It sits so low above sea level that from a few miles away you can't even see it. Since Roman times, it has been a place of exile, isolation, suffering, and confinement. But it was also a thriving granary, a center of agricultural production that provided every good thing, exporting wine, oil, and poultry.
There's a tiny, charming 19th-century village, once bustling and vibrant, now completely abandoned. It has left an indelible impression on those who knew that small, ancient world, like a sort of lost paradise.
It's Pianosa, a small triangle of land jutting out of the sea, a dozen kilometers off the southwest coast of the island of Elba. Geologists tell us that over the last 500,000 years, sea levels have risen and fallen repeatedly, in rhythm with the Earth's breathing. Pianosa and Elba have alternately been islands, as they are today, or part of a single, large peninsula that jutted out from the coast of what is now Tuscany into the Tyrrhenian Sea, extending toward Corsica.
The ten square kilometers of this platform are nothing more than compressed and exposed seabed. The soft, porous rock is composed of fossilized layers of shells, coral, and other marine debris. This structure is responsible for the Caribbean colors of the seabed—turquoise and emerald green.
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Inhabited since Neolithic times, Pianosa (Planasia to the Romans) was chosen by Augustus as a place to banish Marcus Agrippa Postumus, one of his nephews and adoptive son, from Rome. In the power-crazed schemes of Livia, the emperor's second wife, Agrippa Postumus could have threatened the accession to the imperial throne of Tiberius, Livia's son from her first marriage. A gilded prison was created for Agrippa Postumus: a splendid seaside villa, complete with baths and a theater, the ruins of which are still visible today. Then, in 14 AD, Tiberius, now emperor, sent an assassin to kill Agrippa.
Two ports, to the north and east, ensured the docking of Roman ships in all sea conditions. The island was cultivated. Water was supplied by a system of wells. Then, after the collapse of the Western Roman Empire, the long decline began.
With its highest point just 29 meters high, the island was indefensible, easy prey for raids. For centuries, Saracen pirates ruled the roost, only partially countered by the maritime power of the Republic of Pisa.
In more recent times, the Grand Duchy of Tuscany attempted in vain to repopulate the island. Thus, in 1858, just three years before the birth of the Kingdom of Italy, Grand Duke Leopold II established the large agricultural penal colony, a highly innovative experiment for its time, which effectively anticipated today's practice of alternative punishments. Thanks to the work of enlightened leaders, the colony's director, and the agronomist, Pianosa quickly became a large model farm, divided into plots dedicated to various crops: wheat, olives, vines, fruit, vegetables, but also cattle, sheep, and chickens (a five-hectare poultry farm, the largest in Europe at the time).
The living conditions of the inmates were harsh, but still better than the prison cells of the time. Pianosa wine reached as far as England. The penal colony successfully participated in national agricultural events, winning awards for quality and technological innovation, including—during the twenty years of Fascism—Mussolini's awards at the time of the Battle of the Grain.
During the world wars of the last century, Pianosa remained on the margins of history. Food was never in short supply. Isolated on a strip of land cut off from the rest of the world, even the German soldiers, during the military occupation following the 1943 armistice, showed a human face, sometimes even becoming close to the locals. However, the news also tells of a massacre that cost the lives of about fifteen prisoners.
Then, after World War II, came the economic boom and the "Years of Lead." At the initiative of General Carlo Alberto Dalla Chiesa, the penal colony was expanded. In the 1970s, two new maximum-security prisons were built. Various members of the Red Brigades and bandits, such as Renato Vallanzasca, passed through here.
The island eventually housed approximately two thousand people, including the prison population, prison guards, their families, law enforcement officers, military personnel, and administrative staff. The last chapter of the penal colony was the 41bis regime, the harsh prison regime. Between 1992 and 1997, Pianosa housed prisoners convicted of mafia crimes.
Finally, in 1998, the prison closed, marking the end of all related activities. Life has withdrawn from Pianosa. There are no more families. No more children. No more schools or post offices. The small village has emptied.
The buildings, constructed in the mid-19th century in a graceful eclectic style reminiscent of the architecture of the past, are unsafe and cordoned off. There is no street lighting in the few streets. The only lights are those of the moon and a breathtaking starry sky. In summer, only barracudas roam the crystal-clear waters of the small old port.
Of nearly two centuries of penal experience, very little remains today. The farms, once fertile and well-cultivated gardens, have been reclaimed by wild vegetation. About twenty inmates from the prison in Porto Azzurro (Elba Island) are eligible for semi-freedom for good behavior. They live in one of the buildings of the old Colonia. They get around on foot or by bicycle.
Their labor helps run the island's only hotel (Hotel Milena, with about ten rooms), housed in the 19th-century home of the colony's director. The inmates also run Pianosa's only restaurant, located in the former prison guards' cafeteria.
There are no shops on the island today. There's no bar. There's no ATM. There's no pharmacy. Since the mid-1990s, Pianosa has been part of the Tuscan Archipelago National Park. It's a place both close and remote.
The island is a treasure trove of immense scenic, naturalistic, and environmental value. It's just a stone's throw from Mount Capanne on Elba (1,000 meters above sea level). The view extends from Corsica to Montecristo. It's an ornithological paradise. It's a huge playground for marine biologists. It's part of the Northern Tyrrhenian Sea Cetacean Sanctuary. It's easy to see sea turtles coming to nest and lay their eggs. It's also a precious treasure trove from a geological, archaeological, and early Christian perspective (there's a catacomb site). From a sociological perspective, it still hosts an interesting example of the reintegration of prisoners into civilian life.
The island undoubtedly has a heavy history of suffering, which, however, fades and tends to vanish in the smiles with which the prisoners, aware of the privilege of semi-liberty they have earned, welcome the very few incoming tourists.
The Park strictly regulates the use of this extraordinary heritage. Access is limited. Departures are from Piombino and Marina di Campo (Elba). Docking your own boat is prohibited, nor is it permitted to approach the island within a one-mile radius of the coast. Swimming is permitted in one spot only, Cala Giovanna, close to the reinforced concrete perimeter wall built for the maximum-security prison. This wall is already in an advanced state of disrepair, with rusty iron bars exposed. It's rare to find a beach like this in today's Mediterranean, with such watercolor colors and crystal-clear water.
Movement on the island is limited. Tourists cannot wander freely. Except for the area between the hotel and the restaurant, they must always be accompanied by a park ranger. Ultimately, Pianosa still houses prisoners.
The park organizes guided excursions on foot, by mountain bike, and by kayak, visits to archaeological sites and the prison, and snorkeling in the coves. And it's worth doing them all, because the place is truly extraordinary.
But it's certainly not a place for everyone. It's suitable for those who want to unplug, those seeking peace, quiet, and a good read. Cell phone reception is good. But after a couple of days on Pianosa, the daily routine you've come from may seem light years away.
Naturally, one wonders whether it's possible to rethink Pianosa from a different perspective. The sight of the abandoned village with its crumbling houses is heartbreaking. It's both saddening and outrageous. How can such a heritage be allowed to decay? The overlapping administrative responsibilities of different bodies, including the State Property Agency, the National Park, the Ministry of Justice, the Municipality of Campo nell'Elba, the Superintendency of Archaeological Heritage, the Vatican (for the catacombs), and so on, certainly doesn't help.
"Where possible, in consultation with the State Property Office, we have intervened," observes Maurizio Berlando, director of the Park. "We have restored several structures," he adds, "including the beautiful Casa dell'Agronomo. Meanwhile, something is moving, and it seems to be going in the right direction.
A positive sign is the recent memorandum of understanding signed by all the various institutional bodies involved with the shared goal of preserving and enhancing the island, starting with the restoration of the village. The collaboration is expected to begin as early as summer 2025. It's a good starting point and what Pianosa, a little corner of paradise, has long deserved.
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