Despite walking for three days, we’ve seen no one. Not a single hiker, dog walker or shepherd. Instead, golden eagles have circled lazily overhead, stags have boldly held our gaze, and rare blue butterflies have flitted around our booted feet. The silence here is deep and dense, broken only by birdsong.

This is the Madonie national park, also known as the Sicilian Alps, home to many of the island’s highest mountains and rarest plants. It’s a landscape of 200 million-year-old rocks, rich in fossils. Of raptors and the tiniest of songbirds. Of wild boar, fallow deer and porcupines. Of cyclamen and crocuses. Of the largest holly trees on the planet, and of 65 varieties of orchid. A landscape that is void of tourists, ramblers and Sicilians. For anyone in search of wilderness, solitude and sunshine, I can’t think of a better place.