After our stay in Vibo Valentia we headed north towards the Amalfi coast, stopping at a succession of sleepy little ports. It’s was a sociable time, travelling in concert with two other British yachts, “Gwen L” and “Chin Chin”. The high spot for me was Maratea, a collection of small hamlets strung out on the coast and hills of Basilicata. There is a tiny port with a handful of bars and restaurants and the main village up in the hills, all dominated by an enormous statue of Christ, arms outstretched, on the summit of a 2,000 foot high peak and visible for ten or more miles offshore. At night the statue is floodlit and seems to levitate above the little port. We spent a day trekking to the summit, stopping for a drink in the village, which is a laid back “away from it all” resort for the European and American middle classes.
On our way back down from the statue we came across a cycle race in the village. Several hundred lycra clad cyclists shot through the place in a blur, cheered on by the locals. They were followed by several support vans covered in logos and then by some stragglers, also cheered on by the crowd. Finally an old local puttered up the street on a battered Vespa to be greeted by more cheers, before stopping at bar and modestly waving acknowledgements to his mock supporters.
On our way back down from the statue we came across a cycle race in the village. Several hundred lycra clad cyclists shot through the place in a blur, cheered on by the locals. They were followed by several support vans covered in logos and then by some stragglers, also cheered on by the crowd. Finally an old local puttered up the street on a battered Vespa to be greeted by more cheers, before stopping at bar and modestly waving acknowledgements to his mock supporters.
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