The magic of Matera

There are places that wear their past like a scar. Matera doesn’t hide. It doesn’t gloss over. It stands there, carved into the rock, staring back through the centuries. Silent, enduring, and more real than most cities dare to be.

Southern Italy has no shortage of charm, with an abundance of crumbling coastal villages, cute piazzas and alleys too narrow to fit more than a Vespa. But Matera is something else. This is where the earth itself became home. Literally. The ancient cave dwellings hacked into the limestone look like the set of a biblical epic, where people have lived for 7000 years.

Roaming the old city.

Even though Matera is arguably the oldest continuously lived in settlement in the world, predating even Rome itself with about 5000 years, the town used to be off the beaten track for a very long time. It was an area of extreme poverty and bad sanitary conditions, until the government decided to relocate the population in the 1950s.

In later years, Matera has seen an resurgence of travelers, due to footage in pop culture such as the latest James Bond movie No Time To Die, and a bittersweet visit by Anthony Bourdain with Asia Argento in 2017.

Today, the caves are buzzing again. Boutique hotels occupy the spaces where donkeys once slept. Wine bars are carved into stone that’s seen a thousand winters. I’m not sure what to make of it, but at least the old dwellings are not left to wither away in silence and despair.

A tale of stone.

I’ve spent the day exploring the nooks and crannies of Matera, clinging on to the edge of the Gravina canyon like a fever dream by M.C.Escher. The cave homes reminded me of the Iranian region of Meymand, where I once slept in a cave many years ago.

It’s not usual for me to get lost anywhere, but once I got used to the idea, it became surprisingly soothing. Walking through Matera is like slipping through the cracks of time. Cobbled alleys twist and double back, staircases go nowhere, and the air smells like something ancient burning on the stove, maybe time itself.

Beautiful chaos.

Even though Matera is stunningly beautiful, there is a sense of melancholy in the air. The emptiness followed me as I ascended and descended worn-down stairs and dusty alleys in a confusing maze of ages past, under an azure blue sky. Maps are useless, just follow the stone.