The Cammino dei Cappuccini: Between the Furlo Gorge and the Marche Hinterland

The part of the Marche that almost no one walks is the interior, where the hills become Apennine and medieval villages cling to the ridges far from the noise of the seaside. The Cammino dei Cappuccini crosses precisely this hinterland, lining up Franciscan friaries, clay badlands and compact historic centres. It is a long itinerary, connecting the north of the region to the south, and precisely because it runs through the inland areas it remains one of Italy's least frequented walks: those who tackle it meet more farmers and friars than fellow travellers.

The Capuchin friaries

The common thread is the friaries of the Capuchin friars, a Franciscan order with deep roots in the Marche. Along the route you come across several of them, some still inhabited by small communities, others turned into places of hospitality for walkers. They are ideal stages for resting and for grasping the sober spirit that animates the whole walk. Around these buildings unfolds a landscape that alternates woods, cultivated fields and the characteristic badlands, the eroded clay forms that trace lunar, striking slopes especially in the raking light of morning and sunset.

The route crosses places such as the Furlo Gorge, an evocative ravine carved by the river between limestone walls, and touches towns like Cagli and the hermitage of Fonte Avellana, immersed in the woods on the slopes of Monte Catria. You cross stone-walled villages, with narrow lanes, towers and tiny squares that have remained outside the great tourist flows. Further south the walk enters the valleys of the Apennine rivers, skirting ancient abbeys and Romanesque country churches, passing through Camerino and Sarnano as far as the Sibillini Mountains and the sanctuary of Madonna dell'Ambro, before descending towards Ascoli Piceno, on the southern side of the region. Each stage has its village where you stop to sleep and eat, and the hospitality here is genuine, made of family-run trattorias and people used to welcoming the pilgrim rather than the hurried tourist.

Getting there

To reach the access points it is best to rely on the Marche cities served by the Adriatic railway and then head up towards the interior with the line buses, which connect the main towns to the valley villages, though with infrequent services: it is worth studying the timetables in advance. Those travelling by car can leave it in a village and arrange the return by public transport, or plan loops that bring you back to the starting point. The walk is designed to be divided into daily stages and tackled with a backpack, sleeping from one point to the next in the friaries, hostels or small facilities of the villages.

When to go

The best time runs from May to June and then September. In late spring the inland valleys are lush green, the meadows in bloom and the long days let you walk at a leisurely pace; September brings pleasant temperatures and crisp light, with the woods beginning to turn. This way you avoid both the summer heat, which in the inland basins can be intense, and the overcrowding, which in any case does not exist here: while the Adriatic coast is besieged during the beach months, the hinterland stays silent and available. It is precisely this contrast that makes the walk precious, because you cross a very touristy region while remaining completely outside its mass circuits.

Practical tips

A practical tip: in the inland Marche services are sparse, so do not take it for granted that you will find bars, fountains or shops in every village, and set off each morning with enough water and something to eat. The distances between one village and the next can be considerable and the Apennine ups and downs test your legs more than expected, so gauge your stages with care. It is best to contact the friaries and facilities in advance, because many beds must be booked and Franciscan hospitality, though generous, has limited places. Bring a GPS track and a map, because the waymarking is not always continuous, and take the time to step inside the Romanesque churches along the way: they are often empty, silent and of an essential beauty that repays the effort.