According to the Rough Guide To Puglia, “tourists avoid Taranto”, while Lonely Planet says the town is “not on the tourist trail”.
And yet, I’m told, Taranto has nothing to do with this. Could it really be Italy’s most mythical city, a glorious, historic city set in the dazzling blue Mediterranean, almost untouched by global tourism?
To be honest, first impressions are not good. I picked up a rental car in Bari (which has direct flights from the UK) and drove 80 minutes through Puglia (the heel of Italy’s boots), and now I’m surrounded by ugly steel mills and muscular naval bases.
But then I cross the industrial belt that surrounds Taranto like a moat and look at its neoclassical boulevards: I am amazed, happy and ready for a mango ice cream by the sea.
And the rumors about the lack of tourists are absolutely right: I am the only one who is not Italian.
Through the ages: Sean Thomas travels to Taranto, pictured, a “wonderfully forgotten basement of Italy”
Taranto is home to an Aragonese fort (pictured) which is connected to the rest of the city by a bridge.
Historically, Taranto, with its connected islets overlooking lagoons and the sea, dates back to the Spartans in the 8th century BC. C. At its classical peak it had 300,000 inhabitants.
The Tarantella dance is from the city. In fact, many things come from Taranto, and to prove it I head to its magnificently renovated museum, MARTA, which is located in a majestic 19th-century square filled with elegant cafes, cheerful trattorias and cheerful tarantines, who are remarkably friendly, even by Italian standards. The museum boasts multiple wonders, including a famous collection of classical jewelry.
For the next few days I wander around Taranto, feeling like a pioneer. I drink a macchiato at the top of the Aragonese water forts. I spend hours on the “old town island”, exploring its hidden alleys, its sleeping churches and listening to men in knitted vests arguing contentedly in alleys with hanging perfumed clothes.
Sean visits the city’s museum, MARTA, which features “multiple wonders,” including a famous collection of classical jewelry.
Sean spends hours on “Old Town Island”, exploring its hidden corners.
Above, the ‘amazing’ Castel del Monte, a couple of hours drive from Taranto
Then I get caught in a terrible storm and I sneak off to the nearest restaurant. I’m completely disheveled, basically an embarrassment. The head waiter looks at me, smiles and says, “You need food. And wine.” He laughs. “Don’t worry, it’s not expensive.” He’s right. My nice bottle of white wine costs only 6 euros, while the grilled red mullet is excellent.
And as I digest my fine, spontaneous dinner, I think about my next move in this wonderfully forgotten basement in Italy.
Maybe I’ll head north to Altamura, a perfectly preserved medieval town said to have the best focaccia in the world, a magnificent white stone cathedral, and 600-year-old bakeries in Byzantine-Arabic alleys. Or perhaps I’ll head east and visit Castel del Monte, a stunning 12th-century octagonal castle, supposedly built by Frederick II, Holy Roman Emperor, in an attempt to communicate with hidden forces.
For now I’ll sit here, happily tipsy, because Taranto is great. It’s like Venice without the cruises, like Naples with even more ghosts. It’s like the Italy of your dreams, before the tourist buses arrived.
