Let’s get the name straight: it’s pronounced “lay-mar-kay”, but the British call it the Marches. This eastern region has always existed on the sidelines, at one time the borderlands of the great Papal States and neglected today in favour of Tuscany and Umbria, its showier neighbours. Which is all the better for visitors.

Hemmed in by mountains and sea, Le Marche is Italy at its rawest, and the hills of the interior are fertile ground for agritourism. At Il Tiglio, at the foot of the Monti Sibillini, you’ll dine on hand-reared chicken and vegetables fresh from the garden, served by marchigiani farmers (£27pp, B&B; iltiglioagriturismo.it).