"This house, a visitor's refuge, contains a little bit of each of us".

Our parents grew up and learned the art of doing the challenging work of the field, the early mornings, the herds, the shears, its special marks and that world so austere and rich that the field offers. The wood stove crunching in the winter, while the bucket brings the freshly milk, the bread dough rises slowly, and the pot of the stew to pure boil is announcing what will be the delicacy of each day.

Already at another time although not so distant, we arrived. We no longer lived here, but we shared the summers, we had our family, our friends, and after the long winter months, we met again with the endless games that the sea gave us. Here we lived our adventures of having fun and feeling great being girls, here we went to our first dances in the club, we could go out alone and sit for hours watching the boats that attracted the seagulls with their fishing.

We grew up near the sea and the land and that is what this story is about, because there is no time or distance that erases the happy memories, nor the stories that were marked forever.

This house, which will be a refuge for visitors, contains a little of each one of us, to live the experience of observing that infinite sea that always brings a boat and a story, to look at the virgin, vigorous and vibrant nature, of its indomitable winds, of knowing that someone arrives and has a story to tell and we to learn; Savor the exquisite dishes of a kitchen with a glass of wine that this land will provide and have fun as if we never stopped being children.