cupped out part that is now exposed—someone had smashed a hole in it. I wondered why they hid other rooms and sections in this church. The original flooring is three feet underneath the present one. And what’s even odder is the sign in the front of the church stating that the church was built in the 17th century. Glancing back at the fresco hidden behind plaster, I couldn’t envision it being built in the 17th century. The frescoes were created from the 12th or 13th century. I cannot fathom why they’d claim such nonsense, and make such an error in the date, an error of four or five centuries! It’s clear they’ve investigated; I witnessed the holes in the floor and walls. Therefore, the churches hidden parts proved a much older history, so why didn’t they change the date on the sign? The further oddities of this church are the two identical altars that face one another. This is not acceptable by Christian standards as far as I know, yet it was left in this same “eroded” state. They may have been divided at one time, because I saw large stones laid from wall to wall in the flooring which formed a wide line. This could have indicated the presence of a former structure like a wall, which could have separated the altars. It’s even stranger that they took it down, which meant now the altars would stand face to face.
We traveled back to Acerenza to investigate its cathedral, the one we had almost made famous (if only the residents would believe us).
This cathedral struck me as a castle towering over the village, or better, a church-castle, with double functions. It could have been a fort made to take on a church appearance, used for protection, or for storing valuables. Or it could have been used as a