August 24, 2022 - I get off the bus at the Trivento junction. Three eventful years have passed, including an epidemic, but the transportation situation in Salcito is still the same. Rossella is there, waiting to take me to Villa Lalli, where my journey was interrupted in 2019 and from where I intend to resume to bring it to a conclusion. Along the way, talking with Rossella, I think back to the events of three years ago and it is like sewing up a tear between now and then, by nullifying the interval of time in between.

In the evening Arturo takes me back to the same pizzeria as last time... on the other hand, it is the only restaurant in Salcito. As I wait to be served I mentally go over the "plan of attack" for arriving victorious in Lucera. It consists of only two points: get up every morning at 4:30 a.m., to minimize the hours of heat, and, in case of obstacles, don't try to overcome them at all costs. This is more or less what I promise myself in the past... and what I punctually undo! I have been studying the stages more meticulously than usual, trying to foresee obstacles and to imagine alternatives: at the first sign of problems I will jump on the alternative, so as to do not waste time and to avoid walking in the hottest hours. For example, I know that in tomorrow's stage I will have to cross a wood (who knows in what condition) and a landslide area. Let's hope for the best.

August 25, 2022 - On the strength of all these good intentions I leave Villa Lalli at the first light of the day, after having a hearty breakfast. It is cool and so, at least for a while, the walk is pleasant. It begins slightly uphill on a well-visible and perfectly maintained stretch of tratturo. After one and a half kilometers the trail comes to the top and a long descent to the valley floor begins, accompanied by the rising sun. The track that follows the tratturo continues fortunately to be in good condition.

Close to Contrada Fontelefrassi I have the first encounter with dogs. They will be a constant note of this transhumance of mine. I hear a distant barking on the right coming from the houses, but little harm: there is a fence that keeps them confin... just a moment.. the dogs slip through a gap under the gate and rush toward me, barking. This begins a scene that will be repeated several times later: I continue slowly acting indifferent so as not to provoke them, by limiting myself to waving my sticks only when they get too close. The tactic works and after a while, believing they have fulfilled their duty, they turn back.

After walking not even 500 meters I return to hear barking. This time it is a large Abruzzese shepherd-dog. Fortunately he is tethered but the scene I witness is equally impressive. The dog jumps several times in my direction, stuck in midair by his collar. At each jump he collapses to the ground but gets back up and tries again. I dread to think what would happen if the rope holding him were to break.

The steep descent to the valley floor begins again, in a path flanked left and right by several "Morgias," that is, huge rocky outcrops emerging from the ground. Although the terrain is landslide, the dirt road is in good condition because it is evidently heavily used by agricultural vehicles.

After arriving at the lowest point of today's stage, I first repeatedly cross the dry riverbed of the Torrente Fosso Marragone and then I tackle the first serious climb of the day, at the end of which I enter the small hamlet of Contrada Codacchi, where I am stopped by a nice gentleman who, seeing me fatigued, offers me a drink and makes me a coffee. Of course, the ritual question follows: what are you doing around here? I explain to him that I am traveling along the tratturo on my way to Puglia, and I see that his face turns gloomy. I ask for an explanation. The barn I see in front of the house is located on the tratturo so that he is charged an exorbitant annual payment for occupying the land. In addition, he is not allowed to cultivate the tratturo being a protected property. I guess it is difficult for someone who lives by cultivating the land to accept seeing so much unused land. I wonder if it is not possible to find a way to combine a public fruition of the tratturo with the economic interests of the local community. I'll find some partial answers to this question in the subsequent stages.

As the moment of sadness passes, he is back in bonhumor. He warns me that after the woods, after the climb is over, I will find a fresh spring to regain my strength. I thank him and resume my walk. I promised myself to limit my stops as much as possible to avoid the heat, but I just couldn't miss this talk.

I barely walk 500 meters, reach another small group of houses and... I am stopped again by a gentleman who knows everything about the tratturo. He memorizes all the next stages and confirms that, after the woods, I will find a spring. He cannot tell me, however, whether the woods are passable or not. If not, it would be a big problem because I have no painless alternatives.

I get back on the road, only to be stopped again just before leaving the village. This time an elderly man sitting under his house waves his hand at me from a distance, inviting me to come closer. I again forget about good intentions and stop. He reassures me about the fact that I will be able to cross the woods. The entrance to the path, he says, is hardly visible, "but if you shove the plants aside, you will find it and continue quietly." Two years earlier his son-in-law, who has a bulldozer, reopened the passage at his own expense: "it's not like it used to be, when everyone in the village cooperated on these common expenses, everyone thinks for himself." He confirms to me that, past the woods there is a spring, but no one has cleaned it for years, so it is covered with brambles. Do you want to know how it ended up? I didn't find that spring at all!

Once I reached the woods I moved some of the branches and the path was right there. In fact, if it were not for the vegetation that has seized it, it would be a nice cart track. Anyway, the path is sufficiently clean. I set to work with shears to leave the passage a little clearer: did you ever see that in the next few weeks someone else wants to pass through? What do you say? Don't linger? Good intentions? That's right...intentions....

The exit from the woods also marks the end of the climb: the first potential obstacle is overcome. A long line of wind turbines alongside the tratturo will accompany me for the rest of the day. I try to stay on the tratturo, but where the track has not been kept open by farm vehicles, brushwood slows the pace. Several times I am forced to return to the dirt road serving the wind turbines.

I continue by constantly alternating between the tratturo and the dirt road until, at a point where the brushwood is particularly high, my walking stick sinks into the ground up to the handle: I have arrived on the landslide I had foreseen while preparing the route. I try to move forward with circumspection because I can't see where I'm putting my feet but, twice more, the sticks disappear inside a crevice. The time has come to put the good intentions into practice: I laboriously climb up the landslide and back onto the wind turbines' small road. From above I can clearly see that there is a lack of open tracks along the route of the tratturo: the passage is interrupted by the landslide. Patience, one kilometer far from Lucito I have to give up following my GPS track: I'll reach the village through dirt roads.

At the end of the day, the stage that I thought would have been terrible turned out to be not bad. I deserve a good meal in order to be truly satisfied but... I discover that there is no restaurant in the village! Trattoria? Pizzeria? Gastronomy? Nothing, in Lucito you can only eat at home. I find a bar and ask if they have anything to offer, but no dice! The bartender understands the situation and offers to go home to ask if his wife can make me sandwiches. He leaves the bar counter unattended and disappears: great, only in a small town such a thing can happen! He comes back after about fifteen minutes with two sandwiches: omelet in one, local dry salami in the other. Perhaps It was hunger, but they were so good!

While eating, I look for information from some local people about the tomorrow's stage: after the Biferno River there is a climb that I don't know if it is practicable. Unfortunately, they can give me directions up to the river, but the next section is a unknown territory. When they know that I am hiking the tratturo, they ask me how I got through the landslide area... simply, I didn't pass it. In turn I ask how come that no one has repaired the path: the landslide is not big and, surely, with a bulldozer the passage can be easily restored. At my assertion that it is a pity that no one mainteins the path, I am answered that private individuals are not allowed to touch the tratturo, but forest rangers do nothing to keep it clean, so that in summer there are frequent brush fires. I keep wondering if there is no way to combine public and private needs.

It was a full day. Fortunately, the B&B where I'm staying offers all the comforts: a good night's sleep, that's for sure!