The house
Whitewashed barrel vaults, terracotta floors, wrought-iron bedsteads. It is a family house, with everything in its place for a long time now, and it has the character new buildings cannot manufacture.
The fireplace is the real thing. On a winter evening you light it, and it becomes the room everyone drifts into without having agreed to.
The masonry kitchen is big enough that ten people actually cook — which is half the reason you take a house instead of five hotel rooms. There is independent heating, a washing machine, wi-fi, and a table for whoever has to work even on holiday.
Four bedrooms, six beds. We work out who sleeps where when you book: with ten people it is always the first question, and the answer depends on who you are.











