20/08/2025 – Daily distance: 21.2 km – Total distance: 36.7 km

At six sharp I leave the room. I wonder if I’ll find a bar open for breakfast, but as soon as I set foot on the street, I discover that life in Ururi has already started a long time ago. Tractors of all kinds clatter along the roads, and the first bar is full of customers. No wonder: Ururi lives off agriculture, and here the day starts early. Walking through the town, I notice that all the bars are already open.

Another day of asphalt awaits me, an inevitable price to pay to cross the Biferno River without fording it. Never mind: this time I will follow what remains of the Tratturo Sant’Andrea – Biferno.

At the town exit, a sign greets me: “mirë si erdhet rur” (Welcome to Ururi). It’s a sign that I’m in the Arbëreshë enclave of Molise. Its history is closely tied to the tratturi and deserves a brief mention: in 1447, King Alfonso of Aragon established the Dogana della Mena delle Pecore di Foggia, creating the legislative system that would regulate transhumance for centuries. A few years later, Albania fell back under Ottoman rule, and many refugees fled to the Kingdom of the Two Sicilies. Alfonso encouraged this immigration to repopulate an almost uninhabited Molise: transhumant shepherds needed local communities to supply them with food and goods. Thus this enclave was born and has survived to this day, where a dialect very close to Albanian is still spoken.

After 3.5 km I finally leave the asphalt. The first dirt stretch is overgrown with weeds, and I proceed slowly, but when I return to the true tratturo, my pace picks up and the pleasure increases.

I pass a power station, following the pipes of a new gas pipeline, naturally laid along the tratturo. Then asphalt again: a quiet road running right along the middle of the route. I wait until the ninth kilometre, when I find the packed earth again and the first descent toward the Biferno.

As I descend, a car comes toward me. I step aside to let it pass, and the driver rolls down the window: it’s Antonio!

— You tricked me! — he exclaims. — You told me you’d leave early, and yet here you are! I’ve been driving around the Montecilfone tratturi for hours looking for you!

I check my watch: it’s 8:30. I left at 6:00 with the sunrise, and in two and a half hours I’ve already covered nine kilometres, not bad with the backpack I’m carrying. I ask him:

— In your opinion, how fast can someone walk with a backpack like this?
— Well, around 15 km/h — he replies.

I look at him in dismay: maybe he thinks I’m moving on horseback.

We talk a bit about the situation in Molise (and I take the chance to catch my breath). Antonio points out the large number of farm vehicles passing by: some I can’t even recognise. He complains that the region has focused almost exclusively on agriculture, offering heavy incentives for the purchase of machinery. The result is that even a farmer with a small plot owns his own vehicle, often oversized for his needs. It’s an obvious waste, but to me it doesn’t seem too serious. Antonio, however, insists: young people are leaving the countryside, and the inland towns are emptying. Soon, no one will be left to drive all those vehicles. Perhaps — he reflects — it would have been better to direct funding toward something capable of attracting young people.

With his son, for example, he has created murals in Ururi and nearby towns, hoping they might become a small tourist attraction.

— If rural villages have little to offer — he tells me — you have to invent something new.

Meanwhile, from the cars passing us, continuous greetings are directed at Antonio (just how well-known is he?). We finally exchange phone numbers, and then I say goodbye: the sun is starting to beat down hard, and I must get moving again.

From here on, it’s a series of small descents until the famous bridge that allows me to cross the Biferno without fording it. This year there’s even more water.

I take a break in the shade of some olive trees before tackling the long final climb to Montecilfone, in full sun, on asphalt, without a single tree for cover. This year, moreover, there’s neither “Cuor di Leone” nor the cheerful company by my side.

I arrive in town exhausted and stop at the same bar as last year. Same scene: I ask if there’s somewhere to eat, but everything is closed. Instead, they offer me pieces of pizza leftover from their lunch. I point out that last year went better, with fried squid: we laugh heartily together.

21/08/2025 – Daily distance: 26.1 km – Total distance: 62.8 km

As mentioned, I omit the description of the next stage from Montecilfone to San Salvo since it is identical to the 2024 route and no notable events occurred. The story resumes from San Salvo, with the stages along the Tratturo Magno needed to reach Serracapriola.

Track of the day