What if I told you that this very church, Chiesa di Sant’Anna dei Lombardi, has had not one, but two names? It started its life in 1411 as Santa Maria di Monteoliveto. A humble protonotary, Gurello Orilia, poured his heart and soul into its creation. He envisioned a sanctuary for the Benedictine monks, a haven away from the bustling city. Imagine their chants echoing within these walls, their prayers rising with the scent of incense. The Chiesa di Sant’Anna dei Lombardi, as you see it today, is a testament to the passage of time and the shifting tides of history. The Aragonese kings showered it with their favor. Artists like Domenico Fontana left their mark, transforming its structure. But fate, as it often does, had other plans. In 1798, the Olivetan monks were forced to leave their beloved abode. The Arch-Confraternity of Lombardi, their own church dedicated to Saint Anne tragically destroyed, sought solace within these walls. And so, Santa Maria di Monteoliveto became Chiesa di Sant’Anna dei Lombardi, a poignant reminder that even in loss, beauty and faith can find a new home.
Fontana delle Conchiglie
This unassuming fountain, the Fontana delle Conchiglie, holds a secret. It wasn’t always meant to stand alone. Built in 1938