Basilica of Saint Nicholas, Bari

Stand still for a moment in the wide stone courtyard. The paving under your feet is pale and worn smooth, polished by many centuries of shoes and bare feet. Gulls call from the direction of the sea, which is only a short walk away. In front of you rises a broad facade of creamy limestone. In strong sun it looks almost white. In the late afternoon it turns the colour of honey. This is the Basilica of Saint Nicholas, and it was built for one purpose: to hold the bones of a saint.

That saint is Nicholas of Myra, a bishop who lived in the fourth century. Myra was a town in Lycia, on the southern coast of what is now Turkey. Nicholas became known for generosity, and especially for secret gifts. Over many centuries, those stories travelled north and west. In time, they became one of the roots of the figure that much of the world now calls Santa Claus. So yes... the man behind Father Christmas lies here, in a port city in southern Italy.

How he came to Bari is a dramatic story. In 1087, a group of sailors from Bari reached Myra. The region was then unsettled, and the old shrine was vulnerable. The sailors took the saint's relics from his tomb and carried them home by sea. The people of Bari call this a rescue. Others, then and now, call it a theft. Either way, the ship arrived in May 1087, and the city celebrated. Bari still marks that arrival every year in early May.

The relics needed a worthy home, and work on this church began almost at once. It rose on the site of an older governor's palace from the Byzantine period, when Bari was an important Byzantine stronghold in Italy. The building took about a century to complete. It was consecrated in the late twelfth century. Look at the facade again and notice how plain it is. There is very little decoration — just strong walls, a few windows, and clean vertical lines.

That simplicity is the point. This church became a model for a whole regional style called Apulian Romanesque. Romanesque is the heavy, round-arched architecture of Europe before the Gothic age. Here in Apulia, the heel of Italy, it took on its own character: tall, severe facades in local limestone, with carved details concentrated around the doors and windows. Many cathedrals across this region followed the pattern you see here.

Now look at the two towers on either side of the facade. They do not match. They are different heights and different shapes. Many visitors never notice this at first. One theory is that they belong to the older fortified building that stood here before the church. Whatever their origin, they give the basilica a slightly fortress-like look. That suits a building that guarded something precious in a port city exposed to the sea.

Walk toward the main door and look closely at the carvings. Stone animals sit at the entrance, and the arch above is covered with small figures, plants and strange creatures. Medieval sculptors loved this kind of detail. Look for the columns resting on the backs of beasts. These carved guardians appear on many churches in this region. They marked the doorway as a threshold between the street and a sacred space.

Inside, the mood changes. The nave is long and tall, lined with columns and round arches. The light is softer here. Overhead you will see a gilded wooden ceiling filled with painted panels. It was added much later, in the seventeenth century, and it adds warmth to the cool stone below. Near the altar stands a stone canopy on columns, called a ciborium. It is among the oldest of its kind in Apulia.

Behind the altar area, look for a marble throne. It is known as the throne of Abbot Elias, who led the community when the relics arrived. The seat rests on small carved figures who seem to strain under its weight. It is one of the finest pieces of medieval sculpture in southern Italy. Nearby, in the apse, you will also find the grand tomb of Bona Sforza. She was an Italian noblewoman who became Queen of Poland in the sixteenth century, and she chose to be buried here, in her home region.

Now comes the heart of the building. Take the steps down into the crypt. The ceiling drops, the air cools, and a forest of slender columns surrounds you. Their capitals are carved in many different styles. Under the altar lies the tomb of Saint Nicholas himself. The relics were placed here at the end of the eleventth century, before the upper church was even finished. People come down here to pray in near silence, and many touch the metal grille around the tomb.

Here is a detail most visitors miss. Every year, a clear liquid is collected from the saint's tomb. Believers call it the manna of Saint Nicholas. Scientists have suggested that it may simply be moisture, since the crypt lies close to sea level. For the faithful, however, it is a sign of the saint's presence. Small bottles of it, mixed with water, are given to pilgrims, and the collection is a quiet ritual at the centre of the May festival.

You may also hear prayers in Russian, Greek or Ukrainian down here. Saint Nicholas is deeply loved in the Orthodox world, and this basilica is a major pilgrimage site for Eastern Christians. The crypt has a space where Orthodox services can take place. That is unusual for a Catholic church. In this way, a saint from what is now Turkey brings together believers of East and West under one low stone roof. During the festival in May, his statue is carried through the streets and out onto the sea by boat.

When you climb back up and step outside, pause in the courtyard again. Around you is Bari Vecchia, the old town. It is a tight maze of narrow lanes, stone arches and small squares. Washing hangs from balconies. In some streets, women still sit at tables outside their doors, shaping fresh pasta by hand. The basilica is not a museum set apart from daily life. It sits right in the middle of a living neighbourhood.

Before you walk on, look one last time at the pale facade and the two unequal towers. Think of those sailors arriving by sea, more than nine centuries ago, with their unlikely cargo. The bells, the gulls, the voices in the lanes — they have surrounded this stone for a very long time. As you leave, follow the light toward the sea. It is only a few streets away, the same water that brought the saint to Bari.