The key to reviving a ‘crumbling' ghost town? Make it Instagrammable
Stornara, a once-prosperous city in Puglia, was well-known for its production of agricultural goods like wheat and olives, but as the population shifted — younger people began to stop settling down where they were raised, instead moving away from the town in favor of more job opportunities in bigger cities.
Though some locals began to resign themselves to the empty streets and broken-down buildings, Lino Lombardi, an artist, decided to try to bring the city back to life.
4 Though the residents themselves love the murals, they attract plenty of tourists who are on the hunt for unique, captivating spots to take photos.
Luciano Magaldi Sardella / SWNS
Though other Italian towns are known for their collections of Renaissance paintings or their preserved Roman ruins, Lombardi offered up Stramurales, an annual street art festival. Lombardi, along with artists from across the world, painted murals on buildings across the town.
While 2018, the first year of the festival, was a relatively slow start — six murals were produced — there are now over 140 in Stornara, adding plenty of color and life to the town that locals and tourists alike have enjoyed.
According to SWNS, tourist-based revenue has increased 25% since 2020, allowing eight new businesses — three bed and breakfasts, two restaurants, and an art supplies shop included.
'Suddenly, there were loads of people turning up with cameras and guidebooks. I had to quickly learn to say 'welcome' in five different languages,' explained cafe owner Antonio Maglione in an interview with SWNS. 'The murals saved my business, but more than that, they saved our community.'
Lombardi says that the murals that decorate over a hundred town walls are inspired by a variety of themes, including the city's history, migration within Italy, and the importance of the citizens as the core of the town.
4 A crowd gathers around one of the murals in Stornara.
Luciano Magaldi Sardella / SWNS
'We had lost our pride, but the murals reminded us that our town and our stories are worth celebrating,' said Salvatore Nappi, a retired olive farmer, when speaking with SWNS.
Nappi is one of many citizens who get to vote on the content suggested for each mural, and because a variety of artists work on the pieces, they range from vibrant to muted to cartoonish to ultra-realistic, adding even more texture and life to the town.
One woman, Rita Gensano, returned to Stornara in 2017 to look after her parents after being away for years. At first, she said she was dreading moving back, but after Stramurales started up and tourists began to visit, she told SWNS it's 'the coolest town in Italy.'
4 An artist working on their mural.
Luciano Magaldi Sardella / SWNS
'At first people thought I was crazy, but I couldn't just watch the town fade away. I started looking at the walls as blank canvases which could be turned into something beautiful,' Lombardi said.
'Every mural reflects both the artist's vision and our community's heart. We never planned to be a case study, but if our experience can help other communities, that's even more meaningful,' he concluded.
Following the success of Stramurales, Lombardi also founded a charity that offers high schoolers opportunities to get involved in art.
For the July 2025 edition of the festival, Lombardi is inviting artists from each continent to contribute to Stramurales, prompting more diverse visitors and captivating new art to look at — a decision the town's citizens are certainly pleased with.
4 Many of the murals are in central or populated locations in the town, so people can enjoy the art to its fullest extent.
Luciano Magaldi Sardella / SWNS
'When I first returned, it felt like a sacrifice, it was like walking into a ghost town,' shared Gensano, who now acts as a tour guide and lives in her hometown full-time. 'I had left it full of life and laughter, but when I returned, it felt like it was dying.'
'But actually it has become something extraordinary which I have been fortunate to be a part of,' she concluded.
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Brass bands filled the vacuum they left behind, roaming the streets playing everything from 'Nessun Dorma' to 'Beer Barrel Polka.' Locals emerged from their houses carrying trays of cookies and pitchers of wine. 'Viva le ceri!' yelled a man as he handed me and my husband plastic cups and filled them with red wine. The boisterous event turned out to be the yin to the bike trip's tranquil yang. Our rides occasionally took us on busy roads with car traffic. But much of the time it was quiet, except for singing birds and the periodic rev of a Ducati. Riding through the Apennine Mountains, the backbone of Italy. Our route skirted vineyards nursing newborn Sangiovese and Sagrantino grapes. We passed fields of wildflowers and sheep whose milk would be turned into salty pecorino cheese. We shared a mutual jump-scare with some wild boar that oinked and grunted as they fled into a thick forest. Most days we rode about 60 kilometres, with some challenging climbs peppered into the mix. What goes up, of course, must come down. I've never been a fan of fast descents. But the guides held a downhill clinic that taught me techniques like how to better use my brakes or improve my balance by shifting weight to my outside foot on sharp turns. The guides also gave fun tutorials on Italian wine, cheese, history and hand gestures — a language in and of itself. One session taught us how to pronounce Italian words, each one of us taking turns reading aloud from a menu of gelato flavours. Gianangeli promised us a post-dinner ice cream party if we did well. 'You'll still get cups of gelato if you mess up,' he said. 'You just won't get a spoon.' Headed for the west coast of Italy, riders roll out of the tiny town of Sovana on the last day of cycling. As much as I loved being on the bike, I appreciated these mini lessons about Italy. Some cycling vacations can revolve too much around the three Bs: bike, binge eat and bed. 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