Because I haven't been travelling enough, it was obviously time for another field trip: this time to Puglia (or "Apulia," as I found out is the English translation). Puglia is the region of Italy in the heel of the boot, and has a very different landscape/history/everything to Umbria. The boys have both had the opportunity to go to Puglia on school trips, but I had not yet seen the sights.
Organized by the "Associazione Pro Todi," there were 48 participants who met in the bus at 5:30 on a rather chilly morning. The weather was projected to be warm, with a little rain. It wasn't. It turned out to be cold and quite rainy for the majority of the time, so that's the general background of the trip: damp and chilly.
Nothing daunted, we set off for Matera. Matera is not actually in Puglia, but it is on the way to Puglia and made a great way-point. Considered a national disgrace in the 1950s, it is today a national treasure and well on its way to being a world heritage site, if it's not already so classified. The town is built in a horseshoe around the rim of a canyon, and descends into the (steep) bowl. But what makes this situation unique is that the structures that appear to be houses are actually caves carved into the rock! Facades were added later to make the homes appear more architectural(?) or to provide additional protection from the elements (?), but in function and form they remain holes carved into the rock. These caves were inhabited until the 1950s, and Matera had a terrible reputation for being a collection of dirty, uneducated, nasty people who lived like animals. It was to the point that those who actually came from there would be very vague in their descriptions about their hometown rather than admitting that they were from Matera.
As a result, public housing was constructed on the outside of town, the troglodytes were rehoused (and they did mostly go voluntarily and happily, because of indoor plumbing!), and the caves were largely abandoned and ignored. Something interesting happened, though, in the early 1990s, I think: Matera was rediscovered as a largely intact town maintaining very old characteristics. Mel Gibson decided to use it as a movie set for The Passion (cheaper, easier, and safer than filming in the Middle East, while easily keeping the flavor), as one example of a movie filmed here. In 2019, Matera is a named city for "the Year of Culture" which is a program I know little about; it's something along the lines of a European city with particular interest is chosen and then has a yearlong cultural festival with concerts, art exhibitions, and more. It's a big deal, in other words.
During our visit, I was absolutely fascinated by the interlayering of alleyways and houses. We had the chance to see inside one of the caves (vacated in 1952), where the entire family (and its animals) lived in one room. There was no indoor plumbing or electricity. Babies slept with the parents, while older children slept in the crib, the drawers, and more. Chicks typically huddled under the (high) bed, and the horses were tethered near the large bed. A smallish table served the family (often 10 family members), and one large platter was used as the communal eating dish.
Another part of our tour was the church roof: a continuous slab of stone, the upper part had been carved in numerous places to create burial spots. The bones had since been removed, but the graves remained and were clearly visible. Looking across the valley, one could see other caves that had not had a facade applied. Several were churches and can be visited, but are rather difficult to reach (we didn't have time during our visit, but I would love to go back and hike around the area).
One of the churches I visited during our free time was a beautiful, simple Medieval style with unexpected capitals on the columns: bunches of large pine cones? something organic, but I don't quite remember. One of them was a really frightening dragon! The vaulting arrangement was very defined and seemed vaguely Norman somehow. So beautiful! When we were with the guide, he sent us into the Duomo, where we were assaulted by a riot of Baroque interior design: not a single surface left unadorned in the richest possible style. Lovely in small doses, this was overwhelming and in stunning contrast to the living accommodations.
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| Main Piazza |
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| The main piazza |
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| You can see part of the gorge in the background |
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| But the town just sweeps around! |
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| This church is roaringly Baroque; an interesting contrast |
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| Close-up of the two churches |
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| Left: caves with facades to look like houses. Right: caves without any additional adornment. |
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| The rock roof of a church, with carved-out graves; there are caves visible across the gorge |
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| The gutters are held up by cow bones! |
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| The gardens were a surprise! |
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| We are all the same in death, no matter what position we held in life |
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| This church was charmingly simple inside |
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| Most of the buildings here are caves. |
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| This is a very shallow town: it goes back maybe 30 meters in total, but looks like 100! |
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| These were residences and churches, visible across the gorge |
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| The block facade is just overlaid on top of the natural rock face. |
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| You can just see some caves in the background |
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| This was just on the outskirts of the downtown area; I loved the Eastern influences! |
As I went through the town, I couldn't help but see the kids having a grand time exploring this charming and unexpected place. A return visit is definitely in order!
Love,
Alexandra
One of our stops was to Alberobello, city of Smurf huts. I had seen photos of the area, and had always had the impression that it was at most one or two streets of whitewashed cuteness. As it turns out, I was completely wrong in this supposition. There are "trulli" scattered about the countryside in isolated plots, there are trulli in construction (yes, they are still used today as an architectural style), and there are trulli in two different styles on different sides of the main road of Alberobello.
The side of town where the trulli remain the natural stone is still largely occupied as housing, and there are no tourist shops (or other shops, for that matter...at least, not as far as I could see). The whitewashed side is now mostly uninhabited, and many of the trulli are owned by tourist shop owners. Both sides have narrow streets on a moderate slope, clearly designed for at most horse traffic. There is one two-story trullo: the "sovereign house," which was actually constructed for the priest but is now a museum. My visit to the museum paid off, because I learned that they were of more recent origin than I'd assumed: 1700s, and that they were originally built for purposes of tax evasion. 
As it was explained in the museum, the ruler of the time had decreed that no more villages were to be built without hefty taxation (this bit was somewhat unclear, I have to admit), but people wanted to live in the area or already had land or whatever. So someone had the bright idea of building "temporary huts" that wouldn't be taxable because they weren't really "houses," nor would it become a "village" for the purposes of taxation. See? No mortar! This is a temporary structure, right?? And this is why the original trulli were completely dry-stacked. Current trulli are now made with mortar and some even appear to be poured concrete with stone facing (in my observation from the bus). Regardless, they were completely adorable and definitely worth the visit. Even the church was built in the style of a trullo! I was surprised by the shape, too: I had assumed these were cylindrical huts with conical roofs. In fact, they're square or rectangular huts with conical roofs, sometimes multiple roofs (one for each room, in essence). Just delightful.
