On Thursday we woke up and went to wander around the sassi. At one point, we were trying to decide which way to go and an older man, probably in his 70s or 80s, told us to go up the hill. He then proceeded to follow us and point out a church and a viewpoint. He asked us if we wanted out picture taken because most of our photos were probably just one of us. As we are two people traveling, I would have to take Jess’s photos and she would have to take the pictures of me, so we probably didn’t have many photos together (this was all basically true). He took us to his house. He grew up in the sassi and his father spent time in the US, working in order to earn enough money to buy their cave. His old house is now a construction site: a few places in the sassi are being redone into more modern housing units. He lifted up the plastic orange “fence” and took us right inside, showing us which parts were the “bathroom” and which were the bedroom/living space. Afterwards we went into the construction site next door which was a much deeper cave. There was a construction worker inside. The old man asked if we could be in there and the construction worker said, “Not normally, but you’re already inside, so…I guess.” We spent some time walking around that part of the sassi and he took more photos of us. Every few minutes he would hit my arm, say, “Andiamo,” and we’d go up a different way. He kept explaining that many tourists come to Matera and only stay on the “tourist routes” without actually seeing the sassi: they walk through it, but don’t see much. He also took us to café which was not fully open – they were setting up for the day – because it had a really good view of the river and the cliffs across from the sassi. When we walked back down to the main road, he pointed out that people pay at the museum next door to see the same view we had just seen for free. It was a fun way to spend the morning, for us and for him. Even though he only spoke Italian I was able to communicate pretty well and understand what he was saying to us.
That afternoon we went to Bari. My mother and I had high hopes for Bari because my grandfather had talked about it so much. He rarely mentioned Altamura, but rather spoke of Bari more often. I’m not really sure why. We knew our hostel there was going to suck, but it was the only cheap place in town. We were not prepared, however, for how much it was going to suck. It was a bit of a pain to try and find the place. We had to ask a few people and then a young guy actually walked us to the door of the place. When we entered, the “lobby” was no bigger than 10’x10’. Steep steps led up to one dorm room and another one was up even steeper steps (basically a ladder). That’s where we were staying: all the way up. The bathroom was below the entrance. The man at the hostel could not figure out that we had already paid a deposit online and did not owe as much money as he was asking for. I pulled up the confirmation on my computer and told him there was no way we were paying again for the deposit. He had to call the boss who agreed with me. Then, we had to pay for a “sheet.” This was the first time all trip that the linen was not included. The “sheet” was the same texture as an airplane pillowcase. It was hot at night and I stuck to it as mosquitoes buzzed around me, eating me alive.
We went out to dinner at a trendy restaurant on the main street. I had salad, grilled veggies and potatoes while Jess had ravioli and swordfish rolls. There were tons of little kids walking around with their parents even though it was after 11 pm. There were also a bunch of football supporters in the streets with a big banner. Our hostel was in the old part of the city. Like Altamura it had windy, narrow streets with a bunch of churches scattered inside.
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