Ecclesiastical Disneyland

---

Today I’ve booked an hour and a bit’s train ride south to the city of Lecce, which I’ve often seen referred to as The Florence of the South.

I follow the crowd from the station towards the “Centro Histórico”. First impressions are that it doesn’t seem quite as pristine as Florence, but there’s certainly no shortage of buildings with intricately carved facades. I think I remember Florence as having a pedestrian-only zone in its historic centre, but if there’s one of those here no one seems to be taking a lot of notice - cars charging headlong up narrow alleyways packed with pedestrians. It feels like it’s only a matter of time until there’s carnage. I hope the city’s got good ambulances, and lots of them. I’m glad Issy isn’t here.

First stop is the Piazza del Duomo. Maybe I was a bit quick with my “not quite as pristine as Florence” comment. This place is spotless, and spectacular. The Lecce Cathedral (the Duomo, or more completely the Cattedrale Maria Santissima Assunta e S.Oronzo) is on one side, with its bell tower on the side next to it, and the Palazzo del Seminario on the side opposite that. The Cathedral’s obviously a must-see, so I make beeline for the door. Uh oh. What’s this slightly overly long black vehicle doing at the base of the steps, and why aren’t they letting anyone in? Hmmm. It seems there’s a funeral in progress. I assume you have to be important before they let you have your funeral in a cathedral, so there go any hopes for a short sharp service.

I head up into the Piazza Sant’Oronzo, which contains the ruins of the city’s ancient Roman theatre. It’s apparently believed that there was a settlement of some sort here in the 11th or 12th centuries BC at the time of the Trojan Wars. The Romans then conquered the city in the 3rd century BC. The emperor Hadrian, who was around in the second century AD, then moved the whole place a couple of miles to the north-east. I’m not entirely sure how or why you’d move an entire city such a relatively short distance, but if that’s what the ever-reliable Wikipedia thinks happened…. Anyway the Roman theatre dates from then. It doesn’t look particularly authentic, almost as if the original seats have been covered with bits of concrete as they’ve worn away. Anyway, moving on.

Next up is the sixteenth century Castello Carlos V. We’ve heard a bit about this guy already; he’s got a castle in Monopoli. We were told he built that one because every town needed a castle, even though Monopoli had one already, or mightn’t have had because the locals burnt it down - the story was a bit confusing. In Lecce’s case he knocked down their existing castle of sorts and built a new one. Only the internal courtyard’s accessible. It‘s big, but otherwise a bit unremarkable.

Now if there’s one thing that Lecce’s not short on it’s large ornate churches. Virtually every second building would seem to fit that description. I sneak into one and get stopped at the door of another one. It seems that what I need is a Ten Church Pass, or something like that. That’ll apparently get me a bar code that they can scan to let me in to all the main ones. I’m suddenly starting to feel like I’m at an ecclesiastical version of Disney World.

So it’s back to the Piazza del Duomo to get my Pass. The funeral’s still going, so whoever it was, he or she must have been really important. It seems the Pass not only gets me into a vast array of churches, but also the Diocesan Museum of Sacred Art, and a ride in a lift up the belltower. I don’t think Disney World Passes cover that many attractions.

The Sacred Art Museum’s housed in the late 17th early 18th century Palazzo del Seminario. It’s a two storey edifice, and the main part of the museum‘s on the second level. Its displays include religious artworks and other religious paraphernalia set up in a very long almost corridor like arrangement. I head up one side of the corridor, and then make the long trek back down the other side, and go to leave the way I came in. There’s no magical one-way barrier stopping me, and there’s no massive horde surging up the wide stairs I came in through, in fact there’s no one on them at all. But all is not well. I’m told by a very serious looking lady that this is the way in, and the way in only, and if I want to leave I need to walk right through the museum again to the very far end, and use the exit stairs, and no correspondence will be entered into. I always knew the Catholic Church had strict rules, I just hadn’t expected some of them to be quite so illogical, or to extend to such trivialities as the entries and exits from museums.

Next up is my lift ride up the belltower. The funeral’s still going … no hang on, I think I’m now getting a bird's eye view of the coffin being loaded into the back of the hearse. The rest of the view’s good, but perhaps a tad uninspiring. It looks pretty flat for as far as the eye can see in every direction around the city, and the rooves of churches don’t look all that different to the rooves of any other buildings. …. and these historic centres always seem to be surrounded by ugly apartment blocks which are proving a bit difficult to keep out of the backgrounds of my happy snaps. I think I need to add these to my list of pet photographic hates. It’s only got two items on it at present. Top of the list is rubbish bins - I suppose historic cities need to be kept clean, but why do these ugly things always seem to appear in what would otherwise be award winning photos (who am I trying to kid). And then there are cranes. Why are there always cranes? Anyway, back on the ground again, and the Duomo steps are now blocked by mourners pouring out of the service. There seem to be lots of them. The hearse is still there, so it looks like visiting hours still won’t be starting again for a while yet.

I set off on a church crawl, which has become a bit of a blur. I wasn’t carrying a notebook, so I’ll do my best to remember. Most of them seem to have been built during the Baroque Period, which was apparently around the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries.

I think the church I managed to sneak into before I got my Ten Church Pass (I hope the Ten Church Pass people aren’t reading this) was the Chiesa di Santa Maria della Grazia. I think that’s one of the ones with very impressive inlaid wood ceilings with the odd painting or sculpture attached - there were quite a few of those. I think the one I got turned away from before I got my Pass was the Chiesa di Santa Chiara - I think that one also had some impressive inlaid wood ceilings. Then there was the Chiesa di Santa Irene. The facade of that one’s being renovated at the moment. But no problem there - they’ve dressed it up with a painting of what it’s going to look like when it’s finished. And I might have almost believed it was the real thing if it wasn’t for the large billboard ad for women’s clothes at one end. I was led to believe my Pass got me into the Chiesa del Gesu, but the door of that one was locked. I suppose they could have just taken a lunch break, but the lock did look a bit too permanent for that, and knocking didn’t seem to help. I wonder if I should apply for a partial refund. Next up was the Basilica di Santa Croce. Now I do remember that one. It’s certainly up for the “best facade“ award, and possibly also the “best wood inlaid ceiling with painting“ award, both absolutely spectacular, a real highlight. I might have ducked into a few more, but the last one I remember was the Chiesa di San Matteo - not a bad facade, good columns, but a very plain ceiling. There, that’s done it, now it’s back to the Duomo in the hope that the mourners have now gone home, or more likely to the cemetery.

The first thing that strikes me about the Duomo is how dark it is, which I suppose could just be because they forgot to turn the lights back on after the funeral. The main sources of light are the stained glass windows, which look nice but seem a bit small for such a large building. I read that the Duomo was first built back in 1144. It was then rebuilt in 1659 at the same time as most of the other churches around town were going up for the first time.

So that’s it for churches. Next up is Porta Rudiae, one of the original city gates. I read that this was built in 1703 on the remains of an earlier version that collapsed at the end of the 17th century.

I’ve got a few minutes until the train leaves so I duck into the archaeological Museo Sigismondo Castromediano. It’s apparently the oldest museum in Puglia, and was founded in 1868 by the very same Senor Castromediano, who also just happened to be a Duke. The current interior is very modern, and is mostly notable for its collections of Greek and Roman urns and vases ... so many urns and vases. There’s probably more to see here, but it’s going to be a long night if I miss the train…

---

Comments

[RENanDREW]

I've heard good things about Lecce
Apologies if you've already mentioned it, but I keep wondering if this Carlos V is the same chap of the Palacio Carlos V in the Alhambra... probably is, but I'm terrible at remembering century-era dates :)

[DaveandIssy]

Carlos V
Probably, but couldn't be absolutely sure.