I’d planned to sleep with a blanket and pillow on the floor of a chapel, where most of the travelers would be hunkered down, but Carmelina mentioned a bed-and-breakfast nearby, where one of the documentary crews was staying. Did I want to spend the night there? Well, yes, I said. So far the transumanza was a small slice of heaven. Maybe the earthly sacrifices would begin the next day.

Following the sound of the cowbells

But in the morning the wonders kept multiplying. I woke up to find myself at a gorgeous, meticulously maintained ranch-style property, Masseria Difensola, where I sat on a patio watching swallows glide between the trees while I had a breakfast of cappuccino, berry crostata and fresh figs. When I got back to the camp it was almost time for pranzo: ciambotta — a stew of fresh vegetables — followed by a seasoned beef dish called spezzatino.

Over the next three days, time passed with an almost liturgical rhythm, a mix of repetition and variation, accompanied always by the hypnotic music of the cowbells and the cowboys’ occasional “oh oh! ay ay!” We rode through fields of yellow-green chamomile. We rode through fields of delicate green peas. The cows walked on as the views of rolling hills to either side went on for what must have been hundreds of miles. We passed through a grove of cherry trees and reached up to eat some right off the branches.

We stopped, of course, for multicourse meals, twice a day, washed down with red wine. Some of the meals were cooked by the chef, some contributed by restaurants at towns along the way. In Santa Croce di Magliano, a town still not totally rebuilt after an earthquake 17 years ago, tables were set up inside an auto shop for dinner, and the young mayor delivered a heartfelt welcome speech. There, too, I confess I opted to forego a night of sacrifice and sleep in a bed-and-breakfast, albeit a bare-bones room operated by the restaurant that had provided our dinner, rather than roughing it on the ground. I rationalized it as supporting the hard-pressed local economy.