The Irish Mail on Sunday

Rolling hills, riots of colour, and a rupture of fun and flavour in Italy

- By Stephen Phelps

We discovered Sarnano in 2006. A friend had invited us to stay in his house close to this little-known but spectacula­rly beautiful town in Le Marche. ‘You’ll love it,’ he said, as we climbed through the Brunforte Arch, the only survivor of four ancient entry gates to this walled hilltown. We did. It was love at first sight. Italy’s Le Marche region is like a working Tuscany. Rolling hills are a patchwork of small fields, each of which seems to have a man on a tractor in it. Or an old lady collecting firewood. And all in the shadow of the Sibillini Mountains, 30 peaks over 6,500ft, winter ski slopes that burst into a riot of colour when the sun burns off the snow and wildflower­s arrive in the spring.

From Sarnano, it’s 20 minutes by car to the ski lifts and 45 to the Adriatic coast. But if long, straight sandy beaches are not for you, there’s a fabulous freshwater lake with cold, clear water and fresh breezes when summer temperatur­es climb into the high 30s.

There’s horse-riding, mountainbi­ke trails, numerous festivals in the town and surroundin­g area, and bars selling fantastic cappuccino­s for €1. And then there’s the food. For about €20 a head, you can dine like kings. They’ll char-grill huge steaks in front of your eyes on a wood-burning grill.

The butchers (there are seven in Sarnano) raise the animals themselves, so the flavour of the meat is intense. Vegetables, too, are all grown locally.

This was the world that was rocked on its heels by the four 2016 earthquake­s. A world full of flavour and fun. Last year I had recently

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