I couldn’t even step into my room — there was a hole in the floor.
That’s how the story of our B&B begins: with dust, silence, and a house waiting to come back to life.
I don’t remember the exact year we came here for the first time, but I remember the feeling perfectly.
The house was silent, huge, and half in ruins.
There were rooms you couldn’t enter, tall grass everywhere, and that unmistakable smell of places left untouched for too long.
It had once been a farmhouse, lived in by a family of farmers. When we arrived, it was abandoned.
In what is now my room, you couldn’t even walk inside. There was a hole in the floor, and stepping on it meant risking a fall.
The walls were damaged, parts of the roof needed rebuilding — yet something about the place had already struck us.
Not just the location, which was (and still is) beautiful, but that atmosphere of possibility.
As if, beneath all that silence, the house was simply waiting to be lived in again.
About twenty years have passed since that day.
The house was purchased by my family, and little by little, we began to bring it back to life.
Some parts were transformed into apartments, others remained more intimate, more private.
But every corner has a story.
The barn, for example, was really a barn.
Today it’s one of the most charming apartments of the B&B, with the upstairs windows where air once flowed to dry the freshly cut hay.
This wasn’t a project born from a clear plan.
At the beginning, we didn’t even think of turning it into a B&B.
But the house, little by little, revealed its true nature: welcoming.
Today we host guests from all over the world, but every time someone says “it feels so good here”, I think back to that day when I couldn’t even step into my own room. And I smile.
This is only one part of our story.
But it felt right to start here: with the silence, the dust, and the moment when an abandoned house began to come alive again.