The Barn

Every estate has one place where the night prefers to stay. Here it is the barn: old, dark timber, chandeliers between the beams, a bar built from an antique door, and outside a garden that tastes of the south.

In the evening the celebration drifts here of its own accord — from the table to the bar, from the bar out under the string lights. The barn takes exuberance better than any ballroom: it saw a century of harvest festivals before the first couple arrived.

Those who prefer it quieter sit outside between olive trees and candles, hearing the music through the open gates. Both are right.