There is a corner of central Italy where the border has officially disappeared but can still be felt in the mountains. It runs through forests, abandoned fields, medieval villages and lonely valleys between Abruzzo and Lazio. Today, hikers follow it for 108 kilometres along a circular route known as the Cammino dei Briganti—the Brigands’ Trail. More than a simple hiking itinerary, it is a journey through one of the most complicated chapters of Italian history, when the men hiding in these mountains were described as criminals by one side and rebels by the other.
The trail begins and ends in Sante Marie, a small Abruzzo town near Tagliacozzo, in the province of L’Aquila. It crosses the Marsica and the Cicolano, travelling through 18 villages over seven main stages. Most of the route remains between approximately 800 and 1,300 metres above sea level, although the excursion towards Lake Duchessa climbs considerably higher and represents the most demanding part of the journey.
The landscape appears peaceful today. The route passes through beech and chestnut woods, mountain pastures, narrow valleys and isolated settlements where only a few people still live throughout the year. Yet during the nineteenth century, these mountains marked a politically sensitive frontier.
Before the unification of Italy, the territory lay between the Papal States and the Kingdom of the Two Sicilies. The border allowed smugglers, fugitives and armed bands to move from one jurisdiction to another, disappearing into forests and valleys that were difficult for soldiers to control. After the creation of the Kingdom of Italy in 1861, the region became one of the centres of the conflict generally known as post-unification brigandage.
The word “brigand” suggests a simple bandit, but the historical reality was far less convenient. Some brigands were certainly thieves, kidnappers and violent criminals. Others were former Bourbon soldiers, deserters, shepherds, peasants or men escaping military conscription. Some fought for political reasons, while others joined armed bands because poverty and social inequality left them with few alternatives.
The new Italian authorities regarded them as a serious threat to national unity and responded with an enormous military campaign. Villages suspected of helping the bands could face searches, arrests and harsh reprisals. Local people often found themselves trapped between the brigands, who demanded food and protection, and the army, which demanded information and loyalty.
The Cammino dei Briganti does not attempt to transform every outlaw into a romantic hero. Instead, it invites hikers to enter the landscape where this difficult history unfolded. The mountains become a kind of open-air archive. A forest path, an isolated farmhouse or a pass between two valleys suddenly takes on a different meaning when one understands how easily armed groups could disappear here.
One of the figures associated with the route is Berardino Viola, a brigand from the Marsica whose life has become part of local memory. Like many men connected with brigandage, his story exists somewhere between documented history and legend. Over time, oral accounts transformed certain brigands into symbols of resistance against injustice, taxes, conscription and the power of distant governments.
This does not erase the violence committed by the bands, but it explains why their memory survived. In these communities, brigandage was not an adventure invented for tourists. It was connected with hunger, land ownership, political change and the difficult relationship between mountain populations and the newly unified Italian state.
The modern trail was created from below, through the work of local residents, walkers and small businesses rather than as a large commercial tourism project. Its official inauguration took place in 2016, and it has gradually become one of the best-known long-distance walking routes between Abruzzo and Lazio.
The traditional journey takes seven days. From Sante Marie, hikers pass through small communities and landscapes such as Val de Varri, the Salto Valley and the slopes of Monte Velino. Accommodation is generally provided by small guesthouses, agritourism businesses and family-run structures. This local network is essential: the trail brings visitors into villages that might otherwise remain outside the main tourist routes.
The starting point at Sante Marie is particularly appropriate. The town hosts a museum dedicated to brigandage and the unification of Italy, offering historical context before walkers enter the mountains. From there, the route leads towards Santo Stefano and Nesce, continuing through a succession of villages and rural areas where the pace of life feels far removed from the cities.
The most spectacular section reaches Lake Duchessa, a high-altitude lake surrounded by the mountains of the regional reserve bearing the same name. Reaching it requires more effort than the gentler stages of the main trail, but the scenery rewards the climb. The lake lies in a broad mountain basin among limestone ridges and open pastures, in an environment that remains wild even by Apennine standards.
The trail also passes close to remarkable historic sites such as the Romanesque church of Santa Maria in Valle Porclaneta, near Rosciolo dei Marsi. Built in a secluded valley at the foot of Monte Velino, the church contains medieval architectural and sculptural details that seem surprisingly refined for such an isolated setting.
In 2026, the Cammino dei Briganti introduced an important change. The route became completely itinerant, meaning walkers now continue to a different destination each day rather than remaining in the same place for two consecutive nights.
Previously, the central part of the journey generally included two nights in Cartore, allowing hikers to complete a circular excursion to Lake Duchessa. Under the revised itinerary, walkers travel from Nesce to Corvaro, climb towards the lake and then descend to Cartore for a single overnight stay. The change creates a stronger sense of continuous movement and allows hikers to experience a greater variety of landscapes and communities.
The 2026 season also brought a redesigned bilingual website with practical information, downloadable GPS tracks and resources for international visitors. Another project announced for the trail is “La carovana sul cammino,” a symbolic artwork selected through a competition supported by the Abruzzo Region. Its purpose is to create a recognisable artistic landmark connected with the identity and history of the route.
Despite the improved organisation, this remains a mountain journey and should be approached with preparation. Weather conditions can change quickly, water sources may not always be available and some sections are far from shops or services. Hikers should carry an updated map or GPS track, suitable footwear, layered clothing, water and basic emergency equipment.
Spring and autumn are generally considered the most pleasant seasons, when temperatures are moderate and the forests change colour. Summer can be hot on exposed sections, while winter conditions may make higher areas difficult or unsafe. The Lake Duchessa section requires particular care because of its greater altitude and elevation gain.
The Cammino dei Briganti is not the Camino de Santiago, and that is part of its charm. There are no crowds moving in the same direction and no enormous infrastructure built around the route. Some days, walkers may meet more grazing animals than people. Silence, distance and uncertainty remain important parts of the experience.
At the end of each stage, however, there is usually a small village waiting. These encounters are what give the trail its real meaning. A conversation with an innkeeper, a meal prepared from local ingredients or the story of a family that decided not to abandon its mountain home can become as memorable as the scenery.
Walking the Brigands’ Trail means looking at Italy from its margins. It reveals a country that was not unified simply by drawing new borders on a map. It also required military force, political compromise and the painful transformation of communities that often felt ignored by the new state.
The brigands are gone, but the questions raised by their stories have not entirely disappeared. Who writes history? When does rebellion become crime? What happens to remote communities when governments and economies change around them?
The trail offers no easy answer. It simply leads walkers through the places where those questions once had immediate and often violent consequences. After 108 kilometres, the traveller returns to Sante Marie, completing the circle geographically but carrying a more complicated understanding of Italy than the one with which the journey began.