Inside Italy’s centuries-old queer pilgrimage

The sound of tambourines and high-pitched yelps reverberates off the mountains near Avellino in southern Italy. Dozens of people dance in a kind of trance as others form circles around them, singing local folk songs between sips of homemade red wine. Inside the courtyard of a monastery, small groups climb the steps leading up to the church door on their knees, reciting prayers to the Black Madonna of Montevergine.

Every February, scores of femminielli - meaning "little women" in the Neapolitan language - a historic third-gender community from southern Italy, along with members of the broader LGBTQ+ community, gather from across the region for a pilgrimage to the monastery of Montevergine. For hundreds of years, femminielli and other queer people have travelled to this sacred site to honor the Black Madonna, who, according to legend, saved two gay men in the 1200s.

In a country with limited rights and protections, Montevergine has for centuries remained one of the few places where LGBTQ+ Italians could find safety - a place where femminielli and the broader queer community are not only protected, but celebrated.

The journey to the Black Madonna

The pilgrimage begins near the town of Ospedaletto d’Alpinolo, about 60 kilometres northeast of Naples in the southern Apennine Mountains. As hundreds of pilgrims set out early in the morning, local residents line the path, offering food and drinks to those preparing for the two-hour ascent.

"You start to go up the mountain - and you’re drunk and high and sweaty - and it’s dark, and then the sun comes up and you’re sweating out all the wine you drank the night before. It’s a really purifying experience," said Vincenzo Vassallo, a 26-year-old non-binary cultural mediator who has been participating in the pilgrimage for nearly a decade. 

Along the hike, pilgrims pause at various points to pay their respects to the Black Madonna and to nature - hugging trees and praying at a rock formation known as "the seat of the Madonna."

On the final stretch, Vassallo removes their shoes, walks barefoot across the near-frozen ground, then drops to their knees in prayer before a small monument crowned with a cross.

"By the time you get up there, there’s fog and everyone is playing instruments, singing and offering their voices and bodies and spirits to her [the Black Madonna]," Vincenzo shared. "It’s a sacrifice; you are the sacrifice. But instead of killing you, it makes you alive." 

There are no official public records pinpointing the exact year the pilgrimage began, but according to pilgrims and regional religious leaders, it likely started sometime after 1256 - when the Black Madonna is said to have saved a gay couple who had been tied to a tree and left to die by local townspeople.

A unique spiritual status 

The most prominent group to have made this pilgrimage for centuries are the femminielli.

According to Neapolitan folklore, femminielli are believed to hold a unique connection to God - seen as neither male nor female, they occupy a special and respected place in southern Italian society.

The first documented description of femminielli - a diminutive, masculine form of the word femmina, or woman, in the Neapolitan language - dates back to at least the 16th century in Naples. In his book De humana physiognomonia, scholar Giovanni Battista Della Porta described individuals he identified as men with clean-shaven faces, soft voices and delicate features, noting that they appeared more feminine than the women around them.

Stefania Zambrano, a 40-year-old femminiello, has been making the pilgrimage to Montevergine since childhood - long before she fully understood its significance.

She says she visits the Black Madonna, whom she lovingly calls "mother," at least three to four times a year.

"I know that she is with me all year round, but I feel obligated to see my mother a few times a year to at least say hello," she told FairPlanet. "Every time I go on the pilgrimage and enter the church, it’s like I feel the emotions for the first time again. It’s such a thrill; such a warm feeling."

"The Madonna tolerates gay people"

Don Salvatore, the parish priest of two churches in Naples, explained that the Church has become more progressive in recent years, thanks in part to subtle shifts encouraged by the late Pope Francis. He said the Church accepts the pilgrimage as an expression of local Neapolitan faith.

"The Neapolitan people have simply accepted what happened at Montevergine as reality," he told FairPlanet. "The Madonna tolerates gay people and she freely welcomes them, who am I to not do the same?"

Yet despite the openness surrounding the Montevergine pilgrimage, Italy still lags behind much of Europe in terms of LGBTQ rights and protections. According to ILGA-Europe, the country ranks 35th out of 48 European nations for the safety and rights of LGBTQ people.

Finding safety in an increasingly hostile country

Since December 2024, Italy has seen a surge in physical attacks targeting mostly gay men. In the most recent incident, a father in Naples assaulted his gay son with a wrench, leaving him hospitalised.

That same year, the right-wing government led by Giorgia Meloni closed the final legal avenue for same-sex couples to have children in Italy, while continuing to promote so-called traditional family values and the central role of the Church.

For Don Salvatore, the teachings of the Bible do not justify the persecution of LGBTQ people - particularly within the cultural and spiritual context of Naples.

"I, as a Christian, believe in God and the sanctity of Mary - I must imitate her in her sanctity and the way that she was in her everyday life," he explained. "She must be imitated not just because of her holiness, but also in her virtue of tolerance. Here in Naples, this has manifested itself in this accepting approach to these people and their reality.

"Neapolitans look at what they call the 'Slave Mother,' and see that she is respectful towards these people so we must be as well."

Reaction from locals

The town of Ospedaletto d’Alpinolo - where the pilgrimage begins - has long been remarkably welcoming to the LGBTQ+ community. Just beneath the town’s official welcome sign, a second placard declares: "Ospedaletto d’Alpinolo is against homotransphobia and gender-based violence."

This spirit of acceptance is rooted in both a deep reverence for the Black Madonna and generations of shared tradition. Even the town’s elders say this embrace of queer pilgrims has existed for as long as they can remember.

Maria, an 81-year-old resident of Ospedaletto d’Alpinolo, stands outside her home, waving at passing pilgrims. 

"Years ago, whole groups of femminielli used to stay at our home, and we’d feed them until they left to go up the mountain," she recalled. "This is their holy day, we must respect that."

Only two homophobic incidents have been recorded in relation to the pilgrimage - in 2017 and 2018 - when the town’s anti-homotransphobia sign was defaced with slurs.

Despite its centuries-old roots and growing attendance, the pilgrimage remains a largely local tradition that has yet to fully enter the mainstream of Italian queer culture.

A refuge in the mountains

As the fog thickens and the last traces of sunlight fade, the singing and music swell. Those wishing to pay final respects to the Black Madonna enter the chapel where her painting hangs. They touch lit candles together, balancing small plastic cups of wine between their fingers.

Wiping beads of sweat from their forehead, Vincenzo reflects on how, even in a country that denies them and their community equal rights, Montevergine remains a rare place where faith, sexuality and gender identity can coexist - without question.

"We’re forced to perform all the time," Vincenzo said. "This is the one place, time and space where we don’t have to perform. There’s no point of performing in the eyes of God. God knows who we are under our wigs, under our makeup, under our nail polish - and welcomes everyone."

Image by Savin Mattozzi.