ITALY 2019

Uncovering Matera’s history

We land at Bari a little late, but passport control is nothing more than a cursory glance and a nod so we are soon out and on the next bus to Matera, passing endless square miles of olive groves as we cross from Puglia to Basilicata.

It’s 34 degrees as we leave the bus and head off with backpacks through quaint streets and piazzas to be greeted at the door of our apartment. Tonio lets us into our home, a beautifully renovated property in Sassi, the balcony opening up to the most amazing view across the tiled rooftops scaling the hillside to Sassi Caveoso. Stone coloured ancient houses, blending into ornate churches, grand staircases leading to narrow streets and the campanile of the cathedral at its pinnacle, this is a city to explore.

What a fascinating history Matera has. One of the oldest inhabited cities of the entire world, Matera’s position in the deep south of Italy means that it saw the worst of the poverty historically associated with these parts. The city sits above a deep gorge, built into the steep sides as it takes a meandering course through the rocky hillsides. Its inhabitants, amongst the poorest peoples in Europe, built homes in to the rock and moved into the many caves.

They lived in squalor and abject poverty, hidden from the world and ignored by the Government many miles away in Rome, so much so that by the 1950s the city was tarred with the epithet “the shame of Italy”. Slowly, upon the eventual intervention of Rome, the people were moved, sometimes forcibly, out of their hovels as Italy determined to rid itself of its shame. 

Then, in 1964, the first of a number of movies was shot here, and Italy woke up to the fact that this ancient city with its glorious panoramas should be a source of pride, not shame.

The transformation is now complete, the city is a UNESCO World Heritage site, and in 2019 is indeed the European City of Culture. The result is a stunning example of reclaimed heritage. Many of the extraordinarily built cave dwellings, known as “sassi”, are now open to the public. We are on a mission to uncover its story over the next few days. 

Matera: The city where poverty makes history

We awake to silence, the beautiful Sassi still sleeping yet majestic, the rising sun chasing away the shadows to reveal its beauty. No tourists yet just the sound of the swallows announcing the dawn of a new day. The city awakens, the sound of church bells ring out from the many churches,  a solitary priest sings, his mournful voice echoes around the valley, we know we are in a very special place.

This is one amazing city with a remarkable history. So many times we’ve visited cities with histories shaped by wealth, warfare, politics or religion, yet here is a city steeped in a history borne entirely out of poverty. This is unique.

Wandering around its tiny streets and alley ways, stumbling upon crumbling buildings, turning into another piazza and coming face to face with another majestic church, is wonderful. Suddenly finding yourself at the edge of the gorge looking down on the fast flowing river way below is fantastic. Visiting the cave houses is humbling.

This city existed in isolation. Its temperate climate means lengthy spells without rainfall, so the complex system of capture and distribution of rain and spring water is inspired; numerous wells, cisterns and channels are hidden amongst the ancient buildings.

But the glory, if that’s the right word, of Matera, is its rupestrian dwellings and churches, hewn into the rock mostly by hand. We visit both today: some of the ancient sassi houses furnished as they would have been when inhabited, the incredible cave churches decorated with iconic cave paintings dating back centuries. We close our eyes and try and imagine life in this poverty, in these dank and dark places, no light, no sanitation, open sewers, no such thing as currency, but it’s hard to get there. Life must have been so tough. 

We visit the Cathedral, majestically overlooking the city oozing opulence, beautifully painted ceilings decorated with gold leaf. Stunning paintings which any master would be proud of, a stark contrast to the bare stone walls and faded frescoes of the rupestrian churches, although these must have been spectacular masterpieces in their day.

Part of the charm of Matera is the use of the steep hillsides in construction of the buildings; successive houses built into the rock, so forming almost vertical sections of the city, each ancient property stacked above those below, the facade often still the original rock face. It’s a spectacular place.

The city is absolutely full of swallows, endlessly circling above the sassi, feeding on the wing, their twittering calls echoing around the stone edifices. 

Unusually for the hungry travellers, we haven’t mentioned food yet. Well there’s plenty of local fayre here and we’ve already sampled a variety of elements of “cucina povera”, dishes from the peasant era. It’s all very tasty, especially the deliciously fresh vegetables, but the real joys of course are the red wines, particularly Primitivo from Puglia and Aglianico from the Naples area. 

This wonderful place has a lot to offer. 

Last Day in Matera

So we have an exciting plan for this morning, to find hiking trail 406 which drops down from the town to the bottom of the gorge (La Gravina), across the river, then up the steep opposing side to the plateau which affords spectacular views back to Matera. Except the steps which mark the start of trail 406 are barricaded, and on asking around, we discover that the route has been permanently closed since a rockfall left it too dangerous. There is no alternative crossing. Ah well. We need a Plan B.

And Plan B turns out to be brilliant. Over the course of the day we walk more than 13 miles around the city, soaking up its stunning views and its incredible history. We visit churches and cave churches, cave houses, the castle remains, and the museum, as well as the amazing Matera Sotterranea, or underground city, home to an incredible cistern complex. There is so much to learn here.

The cave houses of the sassi have been restored to show us just how the people lived; houses hewn by hand tools in to the rock, often on two levels linked by hand chiselled stairwells, packed with home fashioned furniture, looms to make clothing, wood stoves for cooking. 

Here’s some shocking realities. These families averaged six children per household; the infant mortality rate was over 50%. That’s around thirteen pregnancies per woman. Babes slept in cots; toddlers slept in drawers. Chickens lived beneath the marital bed. A mule, and often even a pig, lived in the same room as the family. There was no sanitation. Can you even imagine the smell? This is not medieval history we’re discussing here: this was the 1950s and in the cases of the last to leave, the 1960s, living like this. It’s a real eye opener. 

The occasional snowfalls around here were seen as a gift from God; the deepest cellars of the cave houses were cold enough to store snow, in layers separated by straw, to be sold as ice in the summer months. All of this, and more, is still visible, and brought alive by the terrific and informative museums and restored houses.

The ornate man made churches are terrific; the rupestrian cave churches quaint and atmospheric. Our walk today also takes in part of the new city, nowadays housing the descendants of the evacuated families, while, with some irony, the old town profits from its history of poverty as its bars and restaurants satisfy the curious tourist. It’s a strange world, isn’t it. 

Extend this thought to the food here. The restaurants in Via Bruno Buozzi are good and authentic, and they tick our boxes for that reason. But isn’t it seriously ironic that these peasant recipes, all based on the most basic principles of what is available at little or no cost, is now sought after, and valued and enjoyed, by visitors like us, contentedly paying 25 euros per head to eat the self same food. It’s a strange world, isn’t it. 

The large underground cistern beneath the main square was an ingenious feat of engineering, providing the populace with much needed water during the dry summer months. After falling into disuse, the cistern lay untouched until the 1990s, when archaeologists found and reopened the entrance to find it still completely filled with fresh water, 500 years on. An engineering feat indeed.

And so our time in Matera is done, as we move on tomorrow, back into Puglia. 

From Matera to the Coast, via More Strange Houses

It’s time to explore Puglia now, so we leave Matera behind straight after breakfast and are off in the newly collected hire car and on our way to the first stop, Alberobello. This is agricultural land; not the parched earth you associate with southern Europe, but fields of wheat, barley and oats, vineyards and olive groves, almond orchards and fig trees. The land is green and fertile, the crops golden ripe, the fields boundered throughout by dry stone walling. All very picturesque. 

There is a single reason we have headed to Alberobello first. The Valley of Itria is dotted with bizarrely shaped conical dwellings known as Trulli houses, but nowhere else has a concentrated collection of these quite like Alberobello. It’s a crazy sight, the sloping town a massed series of pointed pinnacles of sparkling white tiny houses with grey roofs.

There are 1500 of these strange dwellings in Alberobello, in two distinct districts, Rione Monti and Rione Aia Piccola. The first is a tourist trap, rammed with souvenir shops and the like; the second a more peaceful mix of private homes and holiday lets. The history of these houses, built entirely from dry stone, mostly limestone, using neither cement nor mortar, is a little unclear, but there’s no doubt the strange sight has been just a little enhanced for the tourist market. 

It’s a bizarre vista though, the houses comical as well as conical. On from Alberobello, it’s out towards the Adriatic, skirting both a thunderstorm and the port city of Bari, until we pull into our next destination, Molfetta. 

Our host leads us deep into the ancient part of town, the attractive narrow streets cool, the tall stone houses sheltering us from the intense sun. We enter one house through huge wooden doors, the high arched ceiling and stone walls resembling an old castle entrance. Our apartment is on the second floor, bright and cheerful but it is the view that is the star of this place.  The sea is just below our balcony, sparkling and blue, gently lapping against the city wall, a few steps down we have private access to the sea, this is just a perfect location for our coastal retreat.

We take a walk to the harbour, tiny fishing boats gently swaying in the sheltered waters, the Duomo standing proud, its twin towers dominating the waterfront skyline, occasional palm trees adding a splash of colour against the pale stonework. Across the harbour a boatyard, grounded boats beached for repair, beyond that a marina. It’s late afternoon, the town is peaceful, yet to awaken from its siesta.  We take a seat at a harbour front bar and sip a cold beer, yes, we are going to like Molfetta.

Our evening begins at the harbour, at the Duomo Bar for Aperol Spritz as the sun sets, cool music and a relaxed vibe, perfect on this warm sultry evening.

We take a stroll, a trawler has arrived, the crew selling the days catch from the boat. Our destination is Marechiario Ristorante, a fish restaurant recommend to us earlier and we are lucky to be given a table at the waters edge. The octopus and tuna were fabulous, the fresh catch of the day we shared was mouth watering, and the crisp local white wine delicious. The sea lapped the harbour wall beside us, shoals of fish splashed in the dark waters, the huge moon popped up from behind the ancient town, all creating a delightful atmosphere. We choose our fish from the catch displayed near the kitchen; it is fresh, flaky and absolutely delicious. There aren’t many things better than eating a fresh fish dinner in this way.

We fall asleep to the sound of the lapping waves.

Molfetta, Puglia

In Matera it was swallows; in Molfetta it’s swifts and parakeets, a particularly noisy combination!

Molfetta appears to be a town with distinct sections: the old town nestled in a tight area around the Duomo, the port and marina area stretching along the coast to the north, and the main town which despite being a little more modern is still attractive in its own right. The old town though, where we are staying, has most of the charm. 

Clearly once a densely populated area with high tenement buildings and tight, narrow streets, considerable recent renovation of the old town has taken place to return this compact area to its original glory. Hidden within these tiny streets, locked and invisible by day, are a small number of trattoria and osteria which spill out into the mini piazzas after dark. 

Molfetta continues to be a thriving port, and a busy fishing harbour. Having enjoyed the income brought in by these activities for generations there has it seems been no need to embrace tourism and we haven’t yet seen even one hotel anywhere in town.

The only town beach is a small artificial stretch near the duomo, but family sunbathing and swimming from the rocks is obviously popular. The main town is a latticework of streets and piazzas, many of them tree lined, dotted with a number of green spaces. It’s a town going about its daily business.

Looking back to the old town and duomo across the water is beautiful at any time of day, but with a honey glow as the sun sets and the lights come on it is particularly attractive.

A bit of a recap on food. A staple in Matera was a green vegetable they translate as “turnip tops”, so tasty and soaked in the wonderful Puglia olive oil: 40% of Italy’s production of olive oil comes from this region. One other unusual accompaniment is pepperoni crusco; thin red peppers opened then fried in intense heat until completely crisp. Of course, there are many regional pastas, though the one which dominates is orecchiette, delicious with the turnip tops. Apparently Molfetta has its own specialty: fried pizza. Not too sure about that one! Now that we are on the coast, seafood is predictably more prevalent, there may be some surprises in store in that area.

Did we forget to mention the Primitivo wines? Deliciously tasty and not at all expensive. 

At nightfall we watch a spectacular sunset across the harbour, fiery orange filling the sky and reflecting in the windows of the seafront buildings. A glass of Aperol spritz seems to be the perfect accompaniment. 

Sunsets and sunrises in Molfetta

We seem to have developed a habit of waking very early on this trip. It has its advantages. Our apartment balcony here faces due East, straight out across the deep blue Adriatic and in direct line of the awesome sunrises.

Come evening time, the people of Molfetta gather at the harbour, in or in front of Bar Duomo, to watch the amazing sunsets across the calm waters of the inner harbour.

Rarely are both so dramatic in the same location. Here’s some examples:-

Touring Puglia’s Adriatic Coastline

Part of our aim of this trip was to use Molfetta as our base to explore the Adriatic coast in both directions. This is what we’ve discovered over the last few days, simply in order of discovery.

Bisceglie

A short drive north from Molfetta brings us to Bisceglie, a much larger settlement than it looks on the maps and at first impression a fairly uninviting urban sprawl. But tucked away down the slopes to the waterfront is a rather elegant riviera style bay, expensive yachts moored in the protected waters and stylish restaurants lining the curve of the bay. The town’s beautifully kept beaches are pristine white pebble, perfectly offsetting the gorgeous blue sea. 

Trani

Next stop on this northbound sortie is the location of the first truly sandy beaches we have found, Trani. Missing out the main town we head straight to the waterfront where the busy beach has a handful of attractive restaurants; the water is calm and shallow thanks mostly to a protective boulder barrier placed 100 yards or so offshore. Lunch is good, and a little time out on the beach is welcome.

Bari

The following day we head south to Puglia’s capital and largest city Bari, this time by train, which takes just under half an hour and is incredibly reasonable at 1.3 euros each. A walk through the newer parts of the city reveals palm lined avenues, pedestrianised streets and inevitably in Italy, classy shops. 

Between this area and the port lies the rather wonderful old city, a collection of characterful and atmospheric narrow streets in a labyrinthine pattern. Churches and piazzas appear unexpectedly around corners, the cathedral and the Chiesa St Nicolas towering above the clustered buildings below. St Nicolas’ tomb is housed in the latter – but don’t tell the children that Father Christmas is dead! 

The old city oozes character and charm, not least because so much of it is clearly still private dwellings. Washing lines, potted plants, private shrines and chatting women considerably outnumber the souvenir shops and restaurants and it’s all very quaint. 

There is a giant ugly cruise ship leering over the port, its passengers no doubt being led around Bari by someone hoisting a brolly and hurrying them along.

Along the seafront we come across a fish stall, and grab an opportunity to tick off a bucket list item: we eat sea urchin! First time we’ve done so, and it seems to marry the texture of soft roe with the flavour of mussels. Dip in your bread and enjoy!

Of course, Bari is a destination resort with renowned beaches, but these are south of the main city and aren’t on our agenda for this 1-day visit. For us the joy of Bari is the old city though, so full of character and so stimulating. 

Lunch gives us our comedy moment of the day as for the first time on this entire trip we manage to choose a trattoria which is cash only, and we don’t have enough. Consequently we get marched some distance by the waiter, through the streets of Bari to a distant ATM – which is empty! Weirdly, even the waiter is now flummoxed and has to keep asking strangers for directions to the nearest ATM. It’s some time before he pockets his 29 euros.

More Adriatic Adventure And A Church Puzzle

There is a definite theme to these towns along this stretch of Puglia’s Adriatic coastline. The oldest part, always tight quaint streets lined with tall attractive buildings, huddles inside a semi circular section of the most prominent headland, so making defence simpler in years gone by. Bell towers and domed roofs of the churches punctuate the skyline and watch over the harbour. The newer parts of town radiate inland and along the shoreline away from the “centro storico”. 

We have a mystery though. We know that what separates a cathedral from a church is that a cathedral is a seat of a bishop. We also know that “duomo” is the Italian for cathedral (Google tends to confirm this). And, we also know that a Basilica is a church not dedicated to a particular Saint, often in a town with no cathedral. So how come these Puglia towns have all three: a Duomo, a Cathedral AND a Basilica? Someone explain!

Next town south from Molfetta is Giovinazzo, another town fitting the above description but just possibly the prettiest we’ve seen so far, with a large piazza around the Duomo and a very attractive seafront. There’s also a great restaurant here – La Cucciara (“The Spoon”), where we have such a good lunch that we vow to return before we end this holiday, preferably when not driving! 

We’ve had a weather change today, the endless sun of the last week being replaced by looming cloud, creating a stillness and humidity which feels very different. Conversely, the afternoon brings breezes, the humidity is blown away and the Adriatic is a little choppy, for the very first time. 

As we soak up the sun when it eventually arrives, it occurs to us that we are yet to hear a single English (or American, or Australian) voice in Molfetta, and this is our fifth day here. We like that. A lot. 

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Polignano A Mare And Corpus Domini

Polignano has a reputation as the destination for Bari city dwellers for their Sunday outing, and we find ourselves heading there on a Sunday. It’s about an hour’s drive from our base in Molfetta, but easily navigated along the SS16 coastal highway which bypasses Bari.

It’s instantly attractive, sitting atop rugged cliffs pitted with caves and steep sided coves. Divers and jumpers plunge into the sea off the high rocks, crowds watch the rolling sea from the many viewpoint balconies, and the tight white pebble beaches are filled to every square inch by day trippers.

We hear more English voices in the first ten minutes than we have in the whole time since we left Alberobello six days ago. But there is always a reason that somewhere becomes an area’s leading tourist trap, and in Polignano it is because it is both spectacular and pretty. Traffic is barred from the centro storico during the day, and the town has a pleasant holiday feel. Our day here is extremely enjoyable and includes time on the crowded beach and a couple of dips in the Adriatic. 

The atmosphere is different when we return to Molfetta. Tonight is Corpus Christi, also known as Corpus Domini, a major date in the Roman Catholic calendar and there is an excited but respectful buzz around the cathedral, security and police everywhere, microphones and speakers set up on the pavement. Groups of clergymen begin to gather, priests and monks, a mass of robes of various colours, whites, golds, red, brown. Priests in black sporting shades, looking so elegant you could easily imagine them as film stars with their gowns hand made by Armani! Choir boys arrive looking angelic dressed in white and gold. Standards being carried by children. Dignitaries begin to arrive in full military uniforms, they all file into the cathedral for this evening’s event.

Later as we take our early evening stroll, the town is busier than ever, this special day has clearly brought all the locals out. The cathedral now emptying, we see the Bishop on the steps, happy being photographed with children of his congregation, this has clearly been a important celebration for the Italian people.

It’s always fun to adopt a bar as your “local” when travelling, and we have a great one here. Although sitting watching the harbour and sunset at Bar Duomo is lovely, our real fun has come along the waterfront at Bar Cipriani, although we’ve nicknamed it Mario’s. Each visit here we have been welcomed like old friends, we’ve chatted to the owner, seen a live band, sampled the draft beer (Belgian, strangely), even been scrambled a table and chairs from the stockroom out back when the bar was full. It’s been a good part of our enjoyment of our week in Molfetta.

We end our day on our balcony, the silence of the night only broken by the crashing waves below. Looking out into the darkness we see the lights of the fishing fleet as it leaves the harbour one by one forming one long line before us. It’s as if they are waiting for the others to join them before heading off out to the horizon like an army going into battle. There has been no fishing all weekend, the fleet moored in the harbour for 2 days. Was this choreographed exit from the harbour a ceremonial part of the earlier celebrations or just the regular Sunday night ritual after a weekend off? We don’t know the answer, but it’s a cool late night sight. 

Giovinazzo And A Wind Of Change

It’s our last full day in Puglia as we approach the end of the next part of our mission to see the world in stages. So for today we return to probably the prettiest place we’ve seen on this trip, the lovely coastal town of Giovinazzo. 

This beautiful ancient town nestles around the quaintest of harbours, the deep blue of the sea and the sky forming the perfect backdrop. It’s a quiet town, very different from the resort of Polignano yesterday, and has a delightfully peaceful character, its hushed cobbled streets keeping its secrets of centuries. 

A large open piazza lies in front of the duomo, attractive restaurants on two sides. The old town, high up on one side of the harbour, is home to narrow streets with vivid flowers hung from balconies, climbing walls and filling pots. The place just oozes charm.

There’s a stiff breeze blowing in off the Adriatic today though, and surf is appearing where all week we have seen only calm waters. As we take time to soak up this lovely place and the intense sun, the stiff breeze gathers pace until by the time we’ve had lunch, the whole character has changed. The wind howls in, the waves crash up and over the rocks, surf swirls around the harbour walls and now nobody braves the sea. What was beautiful when calm is now both beautiful and exhilarating; it’s impossible not to love the changing moods of the sea.

Talking of lunch, we have come to Giovinazzo by train today in order to return to the restaurant La Cucciara and enjoy wine with our food this time; but unfortunately it is not open on Mondays! A typical old trattoria by the harbour fills in nicely.

And so to our last night in Molfetta. One last sunset, then, obviously, we have to go for a drink at Mario’s, where our farewell gift is a shot of mezcal, the very drink we “enjoyed” in its home location of Oaxaca just a few months ago. And so for our last evening meal it’s back to Vetusta Nursia, where for the second night in a row we eat horse meat, amongst other things, and take our last carafe of the red wine which is so good round here.

Puglia has been great, Molfetta has been a terrific base from which to explore the area. 

Trains leave here direct for Bologna, the so called culinary capital of Italy. If only we…….

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