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Fred Van Liew

Città Fantasma

Giuseppe stopped by to see how we were doing. A very nice surprise. We talked about his business and plans for the future. “This is a good time to be investing in Taranto,” he said. “There’s a new mayor in town, Renaldo Melucci.” Giuseppe knows the mayor personally and proceeded to make the connection. I lost him after the third cousin.


Anyway, Mayor Melucci has a fondness for history, particularly that of Taranto and the Puglia region. He believes the future of the city lies, in part, in its past.

Giuseppe went on, obviously proud of Taranto’s ancient roots. He reminded me of Pierre in that way.


“Do you know when we were founded?” I replied that I thought it was a couple of thousand years ago, thinking I couldn’t go wrong with such a vague dating.


”Close. The Spartans settled here in the 8th century BCE. We’re Spartans. Did you know that?” I feigned ignorance, not wanting to disappoint.


Then he got a little stern.


”There are two places you must see before you leave, the Museo Archeologico Nazionale and the Città Vecchia, the Old City. It’s an island, a world of its own, built on the foundation of ancient Taranto.”

“Come back in ten years. We will have fully restored it”


I told him I’d heard of the museum and the old city (not wanting to get into an explanation about Pa) and had made plans to visit both. He smiled, looked at his watch, then said “Devo andare. Business to attend to. Just leave the key on the table on your way out.”

Pa and I talked after Giuseppe left, acknowledging that we’d mischaracterized him. So in deference to Giuseppe, and to Pierre, we promised to spend the evening in the Old City and the next morning at the Museo.

Sunset came soon enough and we were at the entrance. It’s an extraordinary place. A crumbling relic.



We moved slowly through it. A labyrinth of ancient streets and abandoned homes, we could feel the presence of those who’d gone before.




If ever there was a ghost town, this was it.

After a while, we happened on the Cattedrale di San Cataldo.

We later learned that the Byzantines built it in the 10th century.

The door was open and we wandered about.


More ghosts for sure.


It was getting late, so we left, wanting to get back without difficulty.


Not an easy task it turned out.



But then we saw the sea,

and the way home.


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