La versione originale di questo articolo, in italiano, può essere letta qui 👇🏻
From cave hotels to silent rebirths, Italy’s hidden towns carry stories of beauty, struggle, and regeneration
Sometimes, a well-crafted review can say more than a thousand articles.
That’s the case with the beautiful “reportage” published by the Financial Times, titled “A deep sleep in Italy’s new five-star cave hotel.” The article, written by
, describes her stay at the Vetera Matera, a new luxury hotel nestled in the Sassi. The guest clearly received the best treatment—but it’s also, above all, a well-written love letter to a city that has rewritten its destiny.From shame to glory, without forgetting the stone
The story starts long before Vetera. Matera, evacuated in the 1950s due to the inhumane conditions in which thousands of families lived, was for decades the symbol of Italian poverty and decay. A “national shame,” abandoned and stigmatized. That’s how it was taught in school, at least in the 1980s.
And today? It’s a place of worship. A UNESCO World Heritage Site. A backdrop for biblical epics and James Bond films. A global example of urban, cultural, and tourism-led regeneration. The Vetera—an ambitious project launched by a local dentist and executed with near-maniacal care—becomes, in this story, a symbol of transformation: from stable to suite, from cistern to spa, from cave to sacred space.
The FT piece is precise, engaging, respectful. It evokes beauty, but also memory. And it quietly challenges us to reflect on how fragile that beauty may be.
Beyond the postcard: a living (and pressured) city
But behind the Sassi lies a real city. Matera is not just a backdrop—it’s a lived-in place, with neighborhoods, services, local businesses, and families continuing old trades and launching new digital ventures. And like many Italian art cities, it finds itself balancing between appreciation and exploitation.
Its tourism success is well-deserved. But without careful planning, it can become unsustainable. This isn’t an imminent danger, but it’s not far-fetched either. Hospitality isn't the enemy—on the contrary, it’s often those in the sector who fight hardest to defend the territory. But we need balance. We need policies. We need long-term thinking, not just short-term visitors.
Matera is not alone: its lesser-known (but very much alive) sisters
And here comes the real question: how many places like Matera does Italy have? How many lesser-known, less glamorous places share a similar DNA?
The answer: many. And they need to be recognized, supported, inhabited. I’ve visited a few in recent years.
The “rock sisters” – carved in stone, overlooking canyons
Gravina in Puglia (BA) – An urban canyon, suspended bridges (also trodden by James Bond), and rock-hewn churches. Some have called it “the Matera that didn’t make it.” But they’re wrong. I’ve met inspiring people and businesses here. It’s steadily coming back to life.
Laterza (TA) – Ancient ovens, majestic ravines, a submerged history. Brimming with potential for thoughtful regeneration.
Ginosa (TA) – Caves, canyons, silence. A village that stares into the void—but is ready to fill it with its future. It’s also home to friends with whom I’ve worked (and hope to again) through ITS ITALY.
Sant’Agata de’ Goti (BN) – Perched on tuff stone, it feels suspended in time. Quiet, natural hospitality.
The ghost (or almost) towns – where time stood still, but not forever
Craco (MT) – The “ghost Matera.” Abandoned after a landslide, now a hauntingly beautiful and visitable site.
Civita di Bagnoregio (VT) – The “dying city” that’s not dead yet. Tourism saved its shell. Now it needs to save its soul.
Cultural regenerations – where art took the first step
Favara (AG) – The Farm Cultural Park turned a degraded district into one of the South’s most innovative cultural hubs.
ITS Italy and the invisible regeneration
In many of these places—off the radar and beyond the reach of direct flights—another Italy is taking shape. An Italy of real economy, long-lasting relationships, slow hospitality, and rediscovered roots. But also a remote-work Italy, where working from home means working from a cliffside terrace or an olive mill in Puglia.
These are the places we’re working in at ITS Italy. They’re not Hollywood sets—but they hold real promise. These aren’t resorts, but real projects: returns, businesses, restorations, and new ways of living.
Where you don’t stay for three nights—you stay for three months. Or forever. Where your “second home” becomes your “new life.” Where a forgotten village becomes the perfect place to live better.
We shouldn’t copy Matera—we should listen to it
Matera is not a model to clone. It’s a voice to listen to. For its beauty, its struggle, its delicate balance. It’s a model, yes—but not a copy-paste one. Each place needs its own path, its own time, its own people.
But the message is clear: rebirth is possible—and already happening. We just need to look where we usually don’t.
And if a well-written advertorial in the Financial Times reminds us of that—so be it. Because even sponsored content, if it tells a real story, can light the right path.