Last summer, I set out for one of Italy’s hidden treasures—the magnificent high plateau of the Monti Sibillini National Park.
Wild horses roamed free among bursts of wildflowers, and the whole place looked like a living painting. The scene felt like a peaceful escape from the packed crowds you find in Rome or Florence.
The mountains straddle the border between Umbria and Le Marche. This unique ecosystem gained national park status in 1993.
I spent my days hiking meadows overflowing with blooms. I snapped photos of the wild horses that have called this plateau home for generations.
The contrast between fragile wildflowers and the raw power of the horses stuck with me. It reminded me of the imagery in Lainey Wilson’s song, but honestly, my experience was all its own—distinctly Italian.
Locals greeted me with warmth, sharing stories about the plateau’s history and ecological value. When the morning mist lifted, I could see for miles.
Those panoramic views made me appreciate a side of Italy far removed from its famous cities and beaches. This wild corner offered something rare—a chance to connect with nature in its purest form.
Discovering Italy’s Highest Plateau
My journey to Italy’s highest plateau felt almost magical. The landscapes, the history, that wild beauty—it’s impossible to forget.
Location and Geography
The Gran Sasso plateau in Abruzzo sits tucked inside the Apennine mountain range, about two hours east of Rome.
This highland area rises over 2,900 meters at Corno Grande, which makes it Italy’s highest plateau.
Seasons change everything here. Summer covers the meadows in wildflowers, but winter storms can bury the whole region in snow.
During my adventure, I hiked across open plains, rocky hills, and tucked-away valleys.
Campo Imperatore (Emperor’s Field) stretches almost 18 kilometers and delivers jaw-dropping panoramic views.
Water is scarce up here. Only the toughest plants and animals make it.
Rivers start their journey here, cutting through limestone before they wind toward the sea.
Why the Plateau is Unique
This plateau stays wild, unlike Italy’s polished tourist hotspots.
Biodiversity here is off the charts. I spotted rare Apennine chamois, wolves, and even golden eagles during my hikes.
The climate feels more like Central Europe than Mediterranean Italy. Summer days stay cool, which makes hiking a lot more pleasant.
What really sets this place apart is the sense of isolation. Even though it’s not far from big cities, the plateau feels a world away.
Cell service drops out in many spots, so you get a real break from the modern world.
The night sky blew me away. With barely any light pollution, the stars shine like nowhere else. I lost count of how many nights I spent just staring up in awe.
A Brief History and Local Legends
People have lived in these highlands for thousands of years.
Ancient shepherds carved out the tratturi—historic paths still visible today, once used for moving livestock with the seasons.
During World War II, resistance fighters hid out on the plateau. Local farmers risked everything to shelter Allied prisoners of war.
Villagers still share those stories over coffee.
One legend says a sleeping giant lies under the mountains. When earthquakes hit, people claim it’s just the giant rolling over.
Another tale tells of a magical white deer that guides lost travelers to safety.
Mussolini spent time imprisoned at the Campo Imperatore Hotel in 1943, until German commandos staged a dramatic rescue. The hotel still stands, looking much the same as it did back then.
The Wildflowers: A Blooming Wonderland
The plateau turned into a living canvas while I was there.
Delicate petals and sturdy stems wove together a tapestry that shifted week by week.
Seasonal Wildflower Highlights
In early May, purple gentians poked through patches of melting snow. Their deep violet color popped against the fresh green grass.
June arrived, and suddenly the meadows exploded with yellow buttercups and white alpine daisies.
By July, fiery red poppies appeared, scattered like tiny flames. I loved sitting among them at sunset, when their color looked most intense.
The wildflower season peaked in early August. That’s when I saw:
- Mountain asters (purple-blue)
- Alpine roses (vivid pink)
- Edelweiss (fuzzy white)
- Mountain bellflowers (deep blue)
Native Varieties and Rare Finds
Over 60 endemic wildflower species grow here and nowhere else in Italy.
The elevation and unusual soil make perfect conditions for these special plants.
After a three-hour hike into a remote valley, I found the rare Alpine columbine with its spurred petals. Its deep blue stood out against the rocks, worth every step.
The Alpine snowbell steals the show. This tiny white flower grows in clusters and fills the air with a sweet scent at dusk.
Locals shared legends about fairies living among the snowbells.
I felt a thrill when I stumbled on a patch of yellow mountain tulips. My guidebook said they were extremely rare.
I took photos but left the flowers untouched, hoping future hikers would find them too.
Roaming with Wild Horses
The wild horses on Italy’s highest plateau move with a wild freedom that’s hard to describe.
I spent hours watching them graze among wildflowers and navigate rocky hills.
Where to Find the Herds
I had the best luck spotting wild horses early in the morning or late in the afternoon.
They usually gather near the eastern edge of the plateau, close to natural springs.
Marked hiking trails offer great viewing spots. My favorite was the “Sentiero dei Cavalli” (Horse Path), which winds through open meadows the herds love.
Prime Viewing Locations:
- Valle dei Fiori meadows (especially at dawn)
- Rocca Alta ridge line
- Natural springs near Monte Bove
While I waited for the horses, I often saw jackrabbits darting through the grass. Their appearance usually meant horses weren’t far behind.
Behavior and Social Structure
Wild horse herds here usually have 5-15 animals, led by a dominant stallion.
I noticed the stallion patrolling the edges while mares and foals grazed in the center.
They communicate with subtle ear flicks, soft nickering, and the occasional show of dominance.
One morning, I watched two stallions clash over territory, rearing and pawing at the air in a dramatic standoff.
The herds follow set grazing patterns, moving between favorite spots depending on weather and food.
During summer storms, I saw them take shelter in the sparse pine groves scattered across the plateau.
Their peaceful interactions with jackrabbits and other wildlife revealed a coexistence shaped over generations.
Conservation and Local Efforts
Locals take pride in protecting these horses.
The “Amici dei Cavalli Selvaggi” (Friends of Wild Horses) group runs volunteer monitoring programs.
I joined a tracking trip with Paolo, a local shepherd. His family has watched over these herds for ages.
Paolo explained how they maintain water troughs during droughts but avoid making the horses dependent.
Community Conservation Initiatives:
- Monthly health checks
- Habitat preservation projects
- Educational programs for visitors and locals
- Supplemental feeding during tough winters
Climate change is making things trickier. Unpredictable weather affects grazing and water supplies.
Farmers have set up protected grazing zones where people stay out during key breeding seasons.
These horses play a crucial role in the ecosystem. Their grazing helps keep plant growth in check and supports biodiversity.
A Summer of Personal Growth and Adventure
Living on Italy’s highest plateau changed me in ways I never saw coming.
The wild landscape became the backdrop for personal transformation and new connections that I’ll carry with me always.
Family Bonds and Shared Moments
My parents visited during my second month. They brought stories and memories I’d never heard.
We rode horses along ancient trails where wildflowers painted the ground with color.
Dad, who’s always been afraid of heights, faced his fear when we hiked to a breathtaking viewpoint overlooking three valleys.
Mom discovered she’s got a knack for identifying local plants. She filled her notebook with sketches of rare alpine blooms.
We cooked together in my tiny cottage, using ingredients from the local market.
Evenings were pure magic. We sat outside, watched shooting stars, and shared wine from a nearby vineyard.
Those moments helped heal old misunderstandings between us.
Rediscovering Childhood Curiosity
Something about the mountain air brought my childhood wonder back.
I started collecting rocks again, just like when I was eight, amazed by their colors and textures.
Every morning, I woke early to watch wildlife—deer, foxes, and sometimes a wild horse galloping in the distance.
I planted a little garden outside my window and celebrated every new sprout.
Local kids taught me their games, and I joined them climbing trees and building stone towers by the stream.
My phone sat forgotten for days. Instead, I filled sketchbooks with drawings of clouds and wildflowers.
Returning to these simple joys gave me clarity about decisions I’d been struggling with back home.
The plateau taught me how to see the world with fresh eyes again.
Unexpected Tastes and Local Traditions
High on the plateau, I realized food tells the deepest stories about a place.
Traditional cuisine here comes from centuries of resourceful cooking and some surprisingly creative ingredient choices.
Sampling Peanuts, Beans, and Regional Foods
The food here surprised me with its clever use of humble ingredients.
Peanuts aren’t native to Italy, but locals have added them to dishes over the centuries. I tried a rustic peanut pesto spread on fresh bread—nutty, herby, and nothing like what I’d tasted before.
Beans are everywhere. The regional favorite, pasta e fagioli con le cotiche, mixes creamy white beans with pasta and pork rinds. It’s the ultimate comfort food after a long day outside.
At the weekly farmers’ market, vendors offered me samples of pecorino stagionato—sheep cheese aged in mountain caves and rubbed with local herbs.
The flavors were bold and earthy, unlike any cheese I’d had before.
The Peasant Influence: From Soil to Table
The plateau’s cuisine follows the “cucina povera” (poor kitchen) tradition, turning simple ingredients into extraordinary meals through skill and tradition.
Foraging remains a big deal. Locals gather wild herbs, mushrooms, and berries for their dishes.
I spent an afternoon with a grandmother named Sofia, learning to make hand-rolled pasta with bean sauce using techniques passed down through her family.
Sofia’s kitchen wisdom didn’t come from cookbooks. She cooked from necessity and with whatever the season provided.
Isolation has preserved old cooking methods here. Wood-fired ovens give bread and meats a smoky flavor you can’t fake.
Nothing gets wasted—veggie scraps become broth, stale bread turns into pancakes, and bean water starts the next soup.
This sustainable approach connects meals to the land. Dinners often end with a small glass of homemade herbal liqueur—a perfect finish after hearty plateau fare.
Reflecting on Dreams and Landscapes
Standing on the plateau, surrounded by wildflowers, I started comparing this landscape to my Southern California roots.
Both places shaped how I see natural beauty, but they offer different visions of what wild spaces can be.
From Southern California to the Italian Plateau
My journey from Southern California to this remote Italian highland was more than just a physical move.
Growing up near the dry hills and chaparral of Southern California, I learned to appreciate subtle beauty—golden slopes, tough sage, and rare wildflower blooms after rain.
The Italian plateau stunned me with its wildflower carpets—dazzling whites and purples everywhere.
The terrain felt like a “dry mountain torrent,” as one traveler put it. Rocky climbs and surprise meadows showed up around every bend.
What struck me most was how the land shapes the people.
Southern California’s outdoor lifestyle always influenced my outlook, but this rugged Italian landscape has shaped generations of highland dwellers in a completely different way.
California Dream vs. Italian Reality
The “California dream” I grew up with celebrated tamed wilderness—manicured parks, marked trails, and nature you could enjoy from a safe distance.
Italy’s highland plateau shattered that idea.
Here, wildness isn’t fenced in. Wild horses roam free among blooming meadows, showing off a kind of untamed beauty I rarely saw back home.
This place reflects a different relationship with nature. In Southern California, people tend to build around nature.
In these Italian highlands, communities are built within them. Their traditions and daily rhythms follow nature’s patterns instead of trying to control them.
The plateau taught me to look past the California dream of conquering landscapes. I started to appreciate the Italian way—living alongside wild spaces, not taming them or shutting them out.
