Skirting along Montenegro’s coastline, we came across this little white church precariously perched atop a craggy island cliff. As we sailed past, it beguiled me and I made the captain circle around so I could see her closer. Captain’s don’t like changing course but he’s a good man and obliged.
We decided to settle into an anchorage just south and come back the next day and explore this little wonder. I’ve seen a lot of monuments to God—ancient temples, gold domed mosques, churches carved into mountains—but this humble little church was something to see.
We switched out our flip flops and put on our Keen’s, found the least harshest point to leave the dingy, and then precariously Alex Honald’ our way to the top. On the way up, I was praying there was a priest inside just in case someone would need to bury my body at sea because the likelihood of falling was a possibility.
But the sketchy climb was worth the risk. Standing at the threshold of the tiny church felt like we were on the top of the world.
It was inspiring to see that someone decided to carry heavy materials up there, making dozens of death defying trips. A pilgrimage in order to build a tiny monument to God.
