When the new Ilva (later Italsider) steel mill opened in 1910, it was the result of nine years of planning and construction. In 1901 it must have seemed a grand idea, a vision of the future; after all, industry was the future. Bagnoli was just one of many places on planet Earth eager to reap the marvels of the 19th century—steam engines, great ships, electricity, tall buildings, new railways, and new-fangled motor cars. (Some even foresaw air travel for the masses—across the oceans in total comfort! Well, they got part of that right.) You needed steel for all that. It is only through the unfair and perfect judgments of hindsight that we want to scream back through time to warn them of world wars, depressions, atomic bombs, post-industrialism and its evil twin, Urban Blight—the abandoned factories, rusted bridges and decaying inner cities.
That urban blight looks like what you see in the photo (right, second from bottom). Now that we are in the post-industrial age, they have attempted to undo all of that. Tear down the steel mill —they did that 20 years ago. Make something out of it —that has been an on-again, off-again chain of small successes and disastrous failures. (There are a number of entries in the B-section of the index under "Bagnoli" if you are interested in how that is going.) The entries go back to 2003. Nisida, itself, it is fair to say, has been somewhat of an onlooker to the urban blight and stuttering attempts at urban renewal. It has, for the most part, harbored state correctional facilities or naval facilities. The hope is that the area of Bagnoli leading up to the causeway and then along the causeway leading up to the island, itself, will continue to provide space for private pleasure craft and beach facilities. Nisida, itself, the actual island? —that is hard to say. Ideally, in terms of its long history, it would fit into some sort of a cultural-heritage establishment and join other such sites spread across the Bay of Pozzuoli to Baia and Capo Miseno at the western end of the bay.