Not every Alpine resort needs to sell itself as a “wellness experience.” Sarah Tucker finds a spa town where authenticity remains genuine, not a buzzword — a place where breathing the air remains the most restorative act of all…
Over the last year or so, I’ve come to think that Madonna di Campiglio, high in the Brenta Dolomites, may be one of the few places left in Europe that has understood tourism without overperforming it. Even at the height of winter, when the pistes are busy and the population swells from a thousand to nearly thirty times that number, the mountains still feel like they belong to themselves first.
Fountain bathing in Caderzone Terme
In earlier centuries, people came to places like this with one goal: to get healthier. The wealthy 19th-century set would arrive for the pine and larch resin, nature’s antiseptic to clear the lungs and bolster the circulation. No one was selling ‘retreat packages’ or ‘wellness experiences’. They simply took long walks, breathed deeply, and perhaps congratulated themselves for not dying of city air.
The town’s history is not short on drama. The first photograph of it, from 1872, shows nothing more than a monastery and a few outbuildings. The monastery itself dates back to 1195, burned down in 1877, and survived Austrian control until the Italians took over in 1918. The British, in their own peculiar way, introduced skiing here in 1910. The geology is unusual, shaped almost like an atoll, with jagged rock in one area and glacier-flat terrain in another, meaning cross-country, downhill, and alpinism can coexist without anyone feeling crowded.
Of course, like anywhere in Europe that depends on visitors, Madonna di Campiglio has been touched by the changes of recent years: fluctuating tourist numbers, unpredictable snowfalls, the slow retreat of the glacier. But it’s also the kind of place that has kept its architectural charm — expansion in the 1960s and ’70s was done with a degree of taste rare in mountain resorts.
Hotels like the Alpen Suite Hotel are comfortable without the sort of corporate sheen that makes you forget where you are. A standard double with breakfast in low season starts at €199, and its Convivio Restaurant offers dinner from €45 — hearty enough to undo the good you did skiing, but worth it. For fine dining, Stube Hermitage holds a Michelin star and is run by Antonio Lepore, a 29-year-old chef who can work without gluten, dairy, or onions — the culinary equivalent of painting without blue, red or yellow.
The slopes are well-maintained, and ski passes reasonable – €74 for a day in low season – and buying online in advance takes 20% off the price, enough to fund a stop at Chalet Spinale or Rifugio Lago Nambino, where a meal from €40 comes with a view of the lake. In summer, the latter doubles as a yoga spot and a fishing base.
Planning for winter aside, as we approach ‘shoulder season’, it’s a fine time to experience the destination for what it was originally known for. And the wellness offering here is, still, refreshingly unbranded. Local guides like Alessandro Beltrami and Nicola Cozzio lead silent forest walks, teaching you about the immune-boosting effects of larch resin and why rolling in snow counts as free cryotherapy. Group tours via the tourist board cost just €35 per person, €300 if you want a private, personalised all-day outing. There are bears, wolves, and chamois in the surrounding mountains, though the animals generally avoid people, perhaps having heard about the après-ski.
For those who insist on an indoor version of wellness, LeFay Resort and Spa hides in the forest like a Bond villain’s lair. It’s featured in these pages as the Spa of the Month, but I want to point out a couple of characteristics indicative of the region; the infinity pool tips into the valley, taking advantage of the views, and the sauna etiquette is unusually specific – a man with the air of a customs officer will tell you if you’ve misread the signs.
There’s also the quieter life of the town itself, affording its own charms; two rival chocolate shops, Casa del Cioccolato and Roccati l’Artigiano, facing each other like duelists, will have you back and forth with indecision; there’s an art gallery that holds auctions; and the Habsburg Festival, which ends with a grand ball in the Salone Hofer, is the highlight of the social calendar. One year I waltzed with Emperor Franz Josef himself — until he admitted, mid-spin, that he was Alberto, a corporate lawyer from Linklaters. The moment survived.
If the snow is best in winter, May and June are the locals’ secret; waterfalls in full voice, wildflowers in bloom, lakes like Ritorto, Nambino, and Malghette perfect for fishing or hiking. Out of season – that’s now – the population drops back to a thousand, and there is a sense, rare in Europe’s Alps, that this is still a place first, and a resort second.
I remain hopeful that Madonna di Campiglio will continue to manage what so many destinations fail to: embracing tourism without turning itself into a brand. Here, wellness still means being outside, breathing properly, and coming back — if not transformed — then at least slightly better off than when you arrived.
Tourism without theatrics; wellness without hashtags. How refreshing.
For more information about the region, contact Azienda per il Turismo Madonna di Campiglio, Via Pradalago, 4; +39 0465 447501 or visit campigliodolomiti.it.
