Hidden Gems - The Charming Villages of Le Marche: Treia

Seen from afar, Treia is exactly what you'd expect an ancient village in central Italy to be— stone buildings rising amidst gently rolling hills, almost like a scene from a painting. 

As I see it growing larger and larger while driving the car I rented for the occasion, it doesn't seem to have any special features to make it stand out from many other similar Italian towns. Let's be clear: it's obvious right away that the place has a certain charm, but what makes it unique compared to equivalent spots?

I managed to find a pretty clear answer by the end of a truly intense day filled with hikes, binges, stories, and endless views. Anyway, I’m going to share my thoughts with you later. For now, let's enjoy the journey.

Built on a long, narrow rocky spur, Treia has a rather unusual shape. That’s the first thing that strikes me while I cross the ancient defensive walls surrounding the borgo. Spoiler: there are many more surprises in store.

As I make my 'triumphal entrance', I pass through Porta Palestro, one of the eight gateways in town, to access Piazza Don Nicola Cervigni. Two opposite churches immediately catch my attention. On the left is the Romanesque San Michele and opposite the splendid Santa Chiara, a Baroque jewel where - and here is another gem - the original statue of the black Madonna di Loreto seems to be preserved. 

It soon becomes clear to me that what draws people to Treia is not just the major attractions, historical pageants, museums and neoclassical villas. The ingredients for the perfect spell include those more subdued, hidden and romantic glimpses that reveal themselves little by little, alley after alley. 

Predictably, this will also be the mood of the day: a continuous getting lost and amazed among details that always conceal a story, an anecdote, a legend. 

I walk along the Onglavina district and come across a small group of old houses, narrow streets, and stairways. Giulia, a lady in her seventies whom I met by chance, fortuitously offers me some tips. That's how I learn of a gypsy community that once lived around here.

This fascinating culture crafted part of the local folklore with colourful elements that are artfully dusted off during the celebrations for the Bracelet Challenge. A pity I did not plan my visit during the days of this incredible historical re-enactment.   

Strolling among the noble and haughty palazzi of Via Roma and Via Cavour, it is practically impossible not to be distracted by the sequence of narrow streets and steep flights of steps that creep between one building and another.

I enter a vicolo without delay, look around, come to a dead end, turn back, and take another little alley, following a red cat who seems to know his way around. And indeed, somehow, I get back onto the main corso, which in the meantime has filled up with more and more passers-by.

They, too, at least the tourists, seem fascinated by a curious curved building. Everyone here calls it ‘La Rotonda’. A little further on is the house where Dolores Prato, the writer who photographed Treia’s soul to perfection in her acclaimed novel Giù la piazza non c'è nessuno, lived as a girl.

I head towards a little square where Treia's Teatro Comunale rises and, in no time at all, I find myself in the presence of another city gate, La Cassera. I know that I am just a few steps away from reaching the beating heart of the town, and I can hardly wait. 

A few more steps and there it is, one of the most beautiful squares in the region: Piazza della Repubblica, a large terrace overlooking the Marche landscape. Naturally, I look out from the theatrical horseshoe-shaped balustrade. There are a few too many clouds, but even with the veiled sky, the spectacle is exciting.

Lowering my gaze, I notice the legendary Sferisterio dedicated to Carlo Didimi, where the acclaimed Disfida del Bracciale, Treia's Bracelet Game challenge, is held every summer. 

Piazza della Repubblica is home to some of Treia's main points of interest. I decided to go and see the paintings on display at the Pinacoteca before continuing along Corso Italia Libera to the Cathedral.

The journey is short and not without unexpected sights, such as Vicolo delle Grotte, a charming pedestrian subway that passes right under the Treia buildings. I would spend hours wandering aimlessly and discovering glimpses like this, but my stomach is grumbling and I crave the famous Calcioni, Treia's speciality. 

Giulia, the lady I met in the morning while wandering around L'Onglavina, had recommended I join her for lunch: she was going to surprise me. I have the address pinned on my smartphone, and I am at her place in a matter of minutes.

Soon after, here I am in a cosy kitchen with Formica countertops, an apron around my neck, carefully following every step, from the rolling out of the dough to the ricotta filling. A turn in the oven, and my first calcioni are ready, hot and steaming. A real treat!

The autumn breeze is so pleasant, and the landscape colours begin to turn to warm reddish and golden hues. I make a mental note to go on a mountain bike excursion in the San Lorenzo area as soon as possible, and return to explore the streets of Treia. 

I imagine what they must look like during the days of the Bracelet Challenge, with taverns staying open until late, music resounding through the alleys adorned with coats of arms and flags, and people partying into the night.  

With the corners of my lips seemingly going up on their own for no apparent reason, I point to the Convent of St Francis, home to the Civic Archaeological Museum since 2004. Crossing the entrance, one is catapulted into the village's most ancient past. It's such a surprise to find Egyptian artefacts from the Ptolemaic period here, in the heart of Italy. They come from an ancient sanctuary dedicated to Isis and Serapis that stood nearby.

Once outside, I let my intuition guide me (of course, with the help of the signs scattered around!). In about ten minutes, I'll be admiring the spectacular landscape of Le Marche from the Onglavina Tower. The Sibillini mountains, La Maiella, Mount Conero, the Adriatic sea: from this rocky spur surrounded by vegetation, it seems I can embrace the whole region!

Treia shares much in common with many other fortified hill villages you encounter while travelling in Italy. Like some of them, it retains that certain je ne sais quoi typical of the small medieval towns. But more than many others, it has managed to stay true to its soul despite the temptations of international tourism. And yet, as you stroll through its narrow districts, you hear many different languages being spoken.

So, here we go back to the original question: what makes this place so special?

A good part of Treia's strength lies in sharing its story and welcoming the world without losing its essence. It's not a closed-off town by any means. There are plenty of events, cultural happenings, and food gatherings.

There are also many opportunities for excursions and outdoor sports activities, from trekking to downhill biking. Still, there is one constant: no matter how many people discover, reach, and fall in love with Treia, it remains, always and unshakably, its inhabitants' own.

I return to my car with the distinct feeling that I have missed something important. Therefore, I promise to return and catch up as soon as possible. However, I opt for one last detour before leaving. I set the navigator and start the engine.

The façade of Villa La Quiete emerges from the green of a 29,000 square metre park. As I stroll among the statues, neo-Gothic temples, and magnificent loggia of this neoclassical jewel, I almost (almost) want to put on a bulky frilly dress and pose as a noble guest of Count Lavinio Spada and his beloved Natalia. 

The laughter of a child snatches me away from certain 19th-century reveries. The sun begins to set, and the time has come for me to say goodbye to Treia. Hopefully, it is only an arrivederci.

It’s time for me to hit the road again. I’m wondering where the roads will leads me. To another village, another story, another hidden gem of Le Marche.