Tall, black, wrought-iron gates slowly open. The sound of gravel crunching softly as you wind ever so slowly down the long curved drive. Above enormous trees is a glimpse of the lake in the distance. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
A well-appointed gentleman is standing in the courtyard and,\nas the car comes to a stop, a young woman in a crisply starched\napron joins him. She presents you the tiniest and most\nexquisite bouquet of flowers as she gently bows and says,\n\u201cWelcome.\u201d\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I\u2019ll never forget that first time.\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n
They welcomed us as if we were the most special people in the\nworld, in that fragrant courtyard, to a private world of a time\ngone by.\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n
When entering the foyer you sense that you are entering a\nhome… a grand home from another era; an elegant era when\ntime was more fluid and languid, when everything was\npolished and cherished and had its own personal story.\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Everything seems effortless. Your luggage disappears. <\/p>\n\n\n\n<\/figure>\n\n\n\n
You are beckoned through the main salon to the glimmering\nlake ahead. You move slowly eyeing and taking in all the special\nmementoes, books, flowers, paintings. The doors are open and\nthere is a breeze as you step out and onto the most perfectly\nproportioned gallery, lined with taupe woven wicker and\ncovered in pale terra cotta striped soft down cushions. The\narches frame the view and the view is extraordinary: shimmer-\ning lake with soft and hazy mountains in the distance.\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n
You are presented an Aperol spritz made with a sugared rim\nand slice of orange made to perfection by Lucca, served with\npride in his eyes as he serves it to you from a silver tray.\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Time stands still.\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n
You wander, out onto the lawn towards the lake. You wander, back through the main rooms, rich and layered, bursting with history and comfortable niches. You climb the grand, but not too grand, staircase lined in mellow carpeting. You arrive at your room with a heavy key in hand to open the even heavier carved wooden door. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Harmony abounds. Colors meld. Eyes roll upward to frescoed ceilings. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
You notice that your bag has been unpacked, clothes hung on\nsilk hangers in a wooden armoire. Your bed has been turned\ndown and your shutters opened to the view. \nYou move to the window and take in the wide panorama and\nthe gardens below… your private perspective on heaven.\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n
What is that smell? Is it from the ancient and enormous magnolia blossoming out your window, the one vying for height with the villa itself? You close your eyes as you inhale leaning on the balustrade. You swoon. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Slipping into an evening dress you slowly, very slowly, walk\ndown the grand staircase, your hand caressing the bulbous and\nburnished bannister to dinner, which is served in the \u201cprettiest\u201d\nand most comfortable dining room in the world.\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n
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