Maratea – where you feel Jesus is watching you
Maratea is just a short distance from Scalea, but the atmosphere is completely different: cliffs plunging into the sea, winding roads, an old town clinging to the hillside, and above it all, a giant statue of Christ. Yes, a bit like in Rio. Except here, instead of samba, you hear the honking of scooters and the rustling of bags with focaccia.

You can get here not only by car via a winding road in about three-quarters of an hour but also by train. By car, you can drive up to near the summit, where there is a paid parking lot – I don't remember the exact amount, but it wasn't anything dramatic, around €1.50. To reach the very top, tourist minibuses are available for a small fee to take you all the way to your destination.




Traveling by train is a bit more adventurous. First, you have to climb up to the town (and it can be quite a hike), and from there, a local bus also takes you to the parking lot below Christ. Going down, you can:
- walk (quite a workout for the thighs),
- take the bus again,
- or try the local tactic of "convincing someone to give you a ride down."
The statue of Cristo Redentore sits atop Monte San Biagio and is visible from afar – so you practically have the assurance that you won't get lost in Maratea: just follow Jesus.



And now a bit of background. The statue of Christ in Maratea was not commissioned by any king or pope, but the main "driving force" was the local priest at the time and the entire community of the town – as a large "thank you" and simultaneously a plea for protection over Maratea and its inhabitants. After World War II and the difficult years of poverty and emigration, the locals wanted a clear, visible symbol of a new beginning, faith, and hope. They chose a monumental Christ in the most prominent location far and wide, right on Monte San Biagio above the town.
The design was created by Florentine sculptor Bruno Innocenti, and the statue was completed and unveiled in the early 1960s. Christ with open arms here does not act as a stern judge but rather as a great patron and protector, embracing the town and the entire coast below – exactly how the locals envisioned it from the start.