This is former home of Padre Pio, The ‘priest in prayer on the Cross’, as promotional literature describes him. He came here as a young man to meditate. One day he awoke to find nail wounds in his hands and feet and a scar in his side. That event, authenticated by the Vatican (he became father confessor to Popes), transformed a poverty-stricken village into a flourishing mountain resort with 30 hotels, futuristic villas and blocks of flats, a huge ornate cathedral, a new sanctuary, a multi-storey hospital, several charitable institutions and a supermarket. When Padre Pio died aged 90 in 1969 San Giovanni suffered no setback. It has its own momentum. Souvenir shops still offer blurred photographs of his hands. In backstreet boutiques (a few backstreets with ankle-wrenching flagstones survive) his old bloodstained bandages are sold. Cynics say that the blood comes from chickens.