There was a shift in atmosphere as a pewter cloud rumbled overhead. As we approached the end of our walk in the Maiella national park, we stopped beside the remains of a second world war prison camp, deep in the park’s corn-coloured hills, and Lisa, our guide, told us a story as dramatic as the simmering sky. In 1943, a band of prisoners, including New Zealand corporal John Broad, fled the camp and spent seven bitter winter months hiding out in caves before eventually making it across British lines. That they survived was thanks to the kindness and bravery of local families, who risked their own safety, and hunger, to help them stay alive and avoid German patrols.
Lisa told us that Broad later described the impoverished Abruzzesi as the country’s true gold, and the sun suddenly sliced through the cloud as though in divine agreement, painting the mountains opposite a shimmering bronze. Digesting both the story and the scenery, our small group of 12 were quietly contemplative as we picked our way back down the hillside to Dimore Montane, the campground we were staying at. The advancing evening turned the sky from lemon to peach to vivid negroni as we skittered down cobbled paths between pines, crossed sun-baked meadows rippled with lilac thistles, and strode past ancient tholoi, the sculptural stone shelters built by local shepherds.
