Inside the Small Italian Town That Resembles the Amalfi Coast Without the Crowds

“Why on earth would anyone come here?” my husband, Marco, asked me as he drove along the curving road to Maratea, a little village in Basilicata, the region on the arch of the boot, between Puglia and Calabria. For a moment, a wave of doubt washed over me. Had I stumbled in my endless quest to find Italy’s most under-the-radar hidden gems?

As soon as we crossed the threshold of Santavenere, though, my fears were allayed. At the reception desk, a trio of friendly ladies greeted us warmly. Directly in front of us, a window framed a postcard-perfect view of the sea, fringed by mountains, trees, and fuchsia bougainvillea. I sipped a refreshing lemonade as we checked in, then we followed one of the staff members downstairs to our room. To our delight, it had a terrace with the same enchanting view we were admiring in the lobby.

Originally built in the 1950s by Count Stefano Rivetti, an entrepreneur from the northern Italian region of Piedmont, as a place where he could host his illustrious friends, Santavenere became a haven for nobles and movie stars during its dolce vita heyday. Now, thanks to two modern-day Italian entrepreneurs — Paolo Barletta, who purchased the property, and Aldo Melpignano, the hotelier behind World’s Best Award-winning hotel Borgo Egnazia in Puglia — it’s undergoing a rebirth. Barletta tapped Melpignano to manage Santavenere and transform it into one of southern Italy’s best hotels.

“The chance to enhance the property while maintaining its authentic charm was a challenge I couldn’t resist,” Melpignano said. His efforts are paying off. As of this year, Santavenere is a member of The Leading Hotels of the World — the first in Basilicata.

During our stay, the hotel was hosting the Marateale, a star-studded film festival that takes place in Maratea every year. That evening, we saw well-dressed guests arriving for the festivities as we rode in a golf cart down to the beachfront restaurant, Il Carrubo, for dinner. As the sunset faded and the starry sky turned to black, we sipped an organic rosé by trailblazing local winemaker Elena Fucci as our waiter filleted a whole fish tableside and served it to us with blistered cherry tomatoes.

The next morning, during breakfast on the terrace overlooking the sea, a waiter brought over a sweet treat for Marco’s birthday. Unfortunately, the sea was too rough for the boating excursion we had planned, but there was a consolation prize. I hadn’t realized the hotel has a private beach. The cicadas buzzed as we descended to the pebbly beach. We were the first to claim two plush sunbeds close to the shore. As I dipped my feet into the aquamarine water, I watched the waves crashing over the rocks along the wild, craggy coastline. It felt like being on a hidden cove on the Amalfi Coast, except we had it all to ourselves in peak season.

Melpignano agreed. “It feels like some of the most popular destinations along the southern Italian coast, but decades ago,” he said. “Basilicata remains relatively off the beaten path, which adds to its charm.”

That afternoon, after lunch with a mesmerizing view of the sea peeking through the trees at Gli Ulivi, Santavenere’s poolside restaurant, we got a ride to the top of Maratea’s highest mountain to meet our local guides, Ilaria D’Auria and Angelo Licasale. They wanted to show us the town’s most famous attraction, a larger-than-life statue of Christ the Redeemer inspired by the one in Rio de Janeiro. But first, we ducked into the Basilica of San Biagio, the town’s patron saint. The main altar was replete with gold and silver iconography, but we were fascinated by a humbler display. On the way out, D’Auria pointed to a basket on the floor containing pieces of white fabric tied in knots. “People leave them there in hopes that the Virgin Mary will loosen whatever knots are holding them back in their lives,” she said.

Outside the church, we took in the sweeping views of the mountains surrounding the town. Licasale explained that the little buildings dotting the mountains are monasteries established by hermits during the Middle Ages. Now, those who crave solitude and a physical challenge can try the via ferrata climbing routes in these peaks. Finally, we crossed the walkway leading to the statue of Christ the Redeemer. Though at first glance, it looks just like the one in Rio, Licasale explained a key difference: in Rio, Christ looks out at the sea, whereas here, he gazes benevolently upon the town. The statue was commissioned in the 1960s by none other than Count Rivetti as a tribute to the people of Maratea.

After climbing to the base of the statue to admire it from up close, we gazed at the view on the other side. From up there, we could see the mountains curving around the coastline, stretching all the way to Calabria and Sicily beyond. Before heading down into the center of town, Marco asked to go back inside the church. He had made a knot out of a paper bag and wanted to leave it as an offering.

Once we reached the centro storico, it was easy to see why Maratea is designated one of the Borghi Più Belli d’Italia (most beautiful villages in Italy). People were gathered at sidewalk cafes on the main piazza and the lively Corso Garibaldi was lined with little shops selling clothes, art, and local specialties like peperone crusco (dried peppers). There was even a group of old Italian men sitting in plastic chairs in front of a church chatting and watching the world go by. I wanted to stay longer, but we had to get back to the hotel for a romantic private dinner to celebrate Marco’s birthday and our anniversary.

We returned to find a table set up with flowers and candles on a terrace near Gli Ulivi. As we savored a gourmet three-course dinner, we reflected on our brief time in this under-the-radar coastal paradise. “It’s a hidden gem where you can truly disconnect from the hustle of everyday life and embrace the timeless allure of authentic Italian charm,” Melpignano explained and I’d have to agree. I hope it stays this charming and laid-back forever.