To truly appreciate Santuario Madonna della Corona, you have to earn it. Start your walk from the village of Spiazzi, tucked deep into the forgotten folds of the Italian Alps. Walk along Località Maso, the road that winds toward the Monte Cimo di Chiamenti Francesco winery, and just 0.2 miles in, veer left toward punto panoramico.

Now, if you are one of those people who like extra credit, you can keep going straight to the winery, pick up a bottle of their crisp, refreshing Tre Vie wine, and then stroll slowly through the vineyard trails to the punto panoramico. And when you finally reach the edge of the cliff, wine in hand, you’re greeted with a view so dramatic it feels unreal: the Santuario Madonna della Corona clinging, quite literally, to the shimmering gray cliff face of Mount Baldo. Sit by the bench that is perfectly placed and savor that view.

**The vineyards of Monte Cimo di Chiamenti Francesco**

Wine tastes differently here. Suddenly it has notes of limestone, whispers of solitude, and a strong finish of spiritual curiosity. You’re not just sipping wine, you’re drinking in the view, the silence, and a sense of reverence you didn’t know you had. From the viewpoint, you peer directly into the soul of the sanctuary and the hermits who built it. Half of the Chapel of Confessions, the heart of the sanctuary, appears to be emerging from the rock itself, like the mountain is mid-labor, giving birth to this improbable structure. Inside the chapel, the raw cliff wall remains exposed, reminding you that this isn't just a building; it’s a covenant between stone and human.

**Exposed rock inside the Chapel of Confessions**

Santuario Madonna della Corona sits 2,000 feet above sea level, precariously perched yet utterly unmoved since the 1600s. You look at it and wonder, How is this still standing? as if at any moment it might give in and tumble down into the Adige Valley. But no, it’s been hanging on for nearly 500 years, married to the mountain with no plans for divorce.

Legend says the sanctuary's origins date back to around 1000 AD, when a group of hermits, fed up with the fast-changing world, climbed into silence here. According to myth, a statue of the Virgin Mary miraculously appeared, carried by angels, no less, prompting early pilgrims to forge a treacherous cliffside path down to the site. That path would become the Sentiero del Pellegrino, also known as the Path of Hope.

**View of the sanctuary from the Brentino Belluno hike up**

Building the sanctuary was no easy feat. In the early days, priests and workers would carry building materials on their backs down that same brutal path. Today, you’ll find 15 life-sized bronze sculptures along the route, depicting the Stations of the Cross, a reflection of both Christ’s suffering and theirs. Eventually, a pulley system was developed to lower materials from the cliff above, saving the backs (and souls) of countless builders.

After each run, I’d find myself returning to the sanctuary, to sit, to sip espresso, to feel the solitude. There are a few ways to reach the sanctuary. The easiest, if you’re blessed with good knees and good cardio (unlike a certain friend of mine who shall remain nameless), is to start from Spiazzi and follow the paved path downhill—complete with Stations of the Cross—or hop on a bus, if you dare. But the real path—the one for runners, hikers, and the spiritually ambitious—starts in Brentino Belluno, 2.5 kilometers away and 600 meters down in the valley. The trail winds through quiet woodlands, teasing you with brief glimpses of the sanctuary through the trees, until finally, just when you think it's a mirage, it reveals itself in full. The last stretch is steep and narrow, but at the top, you’re rewarded with a hot meal, a strong espresso, and a panoramic view.

Santuario Madonna della Corona | Italy

A Morning in Dubai | Dubai