I came to Abruzzo because it is everything Tuscany is not. Tuscany is warm shades of ochre, villas with pools and English voices. Abruzzo is dark green and silver; there is no flat land for a pool and, outside the main centres, you rarely hear English spoken. Tour buses are deterred by the gradient.
Abruzzo moves more slowly than the north. It is "old Italy" and one of the best places to see a Europe that existed before industrialisation.
In Scanno, women still wear heavy black traditional costumes, not for tourists but for comfort. Sheep farmers still practice the traditional transumanza (crossing the land) - shepherding their flocks up mountains in the summer and back into valleys when the snows come.
There used to be three million sheep in the region; now there are just 200,000 to provide the famous Abruzzo pecorino cheese. Tourists can join the transumanza, and for around $300 a year they can sponsor a sheep.
During the ski season, thousands of Romans and Neapolitans flock to Abruzzo's resorts and spa towns, and in summer serious trampers walk the park trails. But in the smaller mountain towns, off-season, tourists are rare.
In Cansano, where dogs sleep undisturbed in the piazza, our rental car is viewed with curiosity and my request for a midday cappuccino is greeted with a sigh. In another hamlet, the owner of a trattoria turns us away saying he is not open for lunch for dieci minuti (10 minutes).
But there are plenty of gestures of goodwill. At a local produce market a stall-holder happily snips off a single bulb of garlic from a metre-long string and charges nothing for the trouble; a restaurant owner, on learning we are Kiwis, brings complementary limoncello. There was a prisoner of war camp (Campo 78) near Sulmona, now one of Abruzzo's larger tourist centres, where many New Zealand officers captured in North Africa were held.
The best place to stay in Abruzzo is a mountain town where the air and views are exhilarating. We based ourselves at Pacentro, best known for being the birthplace of pop star Madonna's grandparents and the location for a scene in the George Clooney film L'Americano.
In its glory days, Pacentro was home to around 4000 citizens, but most left early last century as economic hardship prompted mass emigration. These days the population is around 1200 and most are elderly. Like most towns in these parts, Pacentro appears glued to the mountain.
There are two small piazze, a supermercato, a 14th century castle with two intact towers, and a bar/petrol station where men smoke and drink whisky while they fill the tank. There is also a Michelin-star restaurant. As far as I know, we were the only strangers in town.
Our days began with an espresso, a fresh-baked cornetti or brioche and serious consultation around the map. Every destination was up; it was just a matter of how far - and how steep.
The journeys always produced surprises - hidden shops with exquisite gold filigree jewelry, fine lace and wrought iron work, a whole town adorned with brightly-coloured ceramics - and what must be the best loo in the world with a floor-to-ceiling view of the snow-tipped peaks.
The food in the region is as robust as the terrain. Lamb, kid, sheep and mountain goat are staples in most eating places. Abruzzi cooks flavour their dishes with hot chilli, scented saffron and fruity olive oils pressed on the plains below. A culinary tradition in Abruzzo is la panarda, a multi-course feast of gargantuan proportions, which can run to 50 courses and last all night.
I didn't experience la panarda but, at Ristorante Taverna de li Caldora - our neighbourhood Michelin-starred restaurant - I came very close.
The restaurant is unpretentious save for the views across the valley. There is no menu. "Mangiate di tutto," said chef Carmine Cercone ("You eat everything.") So, this is what we ate: antipasti of courgettes, artichokes, fresh goat's ricotta, tiny balls of minced lamb coated in batter, thinly sliced porcini and salad greens, followed by shredded lamb and cabbage, beans, chopped liver in rich gravy, courgettes stuffed with anchovies, goats' cheese and mushrooms.
Pasta was spaghetti with truffles (about 80 per cent of Italy's truffles are grown in Abruzzo) tagliatelli with porcini mushrooms, ricotta and spinach ravioli. The meat dishes were lamb cutlets, pork sausage, and a steak so big it filled a plate.
Dessert was the Abruzzo specialty, dolce pizza, a rainbow cake drenched in liqueur custard and smothered with a bitter sweet chocolate icing, chocolate ice cream with nougat, lemon mousse with fresh fruit salad, green figs and biscotti. When the last dishes were cleared, Carmine Cercone produced dessert wine, followed by grappa. The cost was less than $50 a head.
On the last day, we drove to L'Aquila, Abruzzo's capital. The city has been off the radar for travellers since an earthquake in 2009 shattered its commercial centre killing 308 people and leaving 60,000 homeless. Parking is free - unprecedented in Italy - to encourage people back.
The city is not pretty. Shops in the main street are boarded up and soldiers stand guard against looting. A fence strung with house keys from crushed buildings is a macabre piece of street art. Two premises are open for business: a cheese shop and a brightly-lit bar run by a young man, who declares L'Aquila will bounce back - as it has done many times before. It is a sobering reminder that Abruzzo's other claim to fame is earthquakes.
As we drive home, the moon lights up the spine of the Apennines. It's hard to believe that directly below the mountains are the fault lines that wreak so much damage on the region.
As we round the last hairpin bend before Pacentro, Billy Connolly reminds us we have reached our destination. "You may thank me and remember that without me none of this would have been possible and you would have been hopelessly lost". He sounds relieved.
CHECKLIST
Accomodation: There are no hotels in Pacentro but several B&Bs and privately owned rental houses. Check homeaway.co.uk, tripadvisor.com or abruzzoturismo.it.
Further information La transumanza: La Porta dei Parachi offers transumanza walks in June and July, with dates fixed 15 days before departure. The trip includes a night at the farm with dinner and breakfast, food for the two-day journey and one night camping.
Best time to visit: Spring or autumn, when skiers and trampers are back home.
Cocullo snake festival: Held on the first Thursday in May in celebration of St Domenico (protector against snake bites).
