I've stood at markets myself. In the Netherlands, with handmade epoxy jewellery, earrings and small artworks. I know the feeling of getting up early, setting up your stall, approaching strangers and hoping someone sees something that speaks to them. That experience taught me something: a market is never just a place to buy things. It's a place where people come together.
In Le Marche you understand that better than anywhere.
Evening markets on the coast
What struck us immediately when we first drove along the coast of Le Marche in the summer months: as soon as the sun dips, the markets appear. In Porto San Giorgio, on Sunday evening, a row of stalls pops up along the promenade with clothing, jewellery, local produce and crafts. In Grottamare the same. The atmosphere is relaxed, the air warm, the sound of the sea everywhere in the background.
These aren't tourist department stores. These are evenings where locals and holidaymakers mingle, children eat ice cream and sellers chat to their neighbours whilst promoting their wares. As someone who's stood behind such a stall herself, I recognise that energy. But here everything is a touch slower, a touch warmer.
What you'll find at the weekly markets
Those who visit the markets during the day find an entirely different sort of bustle. Porto San Giorgio has a large weekly market every Thursday morning. In Grottamare you'll find typical products such as olives, anchovies and stockfish on the market, the taste of the region summarised in a few stalls.
Geert is the one who gets lost at those morning markets between the vegetables and the cheese. I prefer to wander past the craft stalls, watching how people present their products and striking up a conversation with the limited Italian we speak so far. That's the same at every market in the world. In Le Marche they just do it with more style and less haste.
Truffle, wine and olive oil
Le Marche is a region that doesn't always shout about itself, but when it comes to the quality of its produce it needn't take a back seat to anyone. You see it at the markets. Fresh truffle from the hills around Acqualagna, one of Italy's most important truffle areas. Verdicchio dei Castelli di Jesi, the dry white wine of the region that pairs beautifully with fish. And olive oil so green and fruity you'd rather drink it straight from the bottle.
In Fano there's an evening market in the historic amphitheatre every weekend throughout the summer, where local craftspeople and artists exhibit their work from Saturday evening until midnight. The sort of market where I'd love to have a stall.
"In Britain you go to the market to do the shopping. In Italy you go to the market to be there."
Why markets in Italy feel different
The difference sounds small but is enormous. Nobody's in a rush. The butcher explains where the meat comes from. The olive oil producer lets you taste and tells you about his trees. The nonna with the homemade pasta tries to understand what I'm saying with the limited Italian we speak so far, and asks where you're from and whether you've been to Le Marche before.
When you answer that question for the first time with "no, but we hope to live here soon," she looks at you as though you've made the right decision of your life.
Perhaps she's right.