There is a place in the hills of Modica where time has stood still. Not in the sense that nothing happens, on the contrary. But there, the days flow slowly, to the rhythm of light, wind and silences full of **** villa is not immediately visible. You have to walk down a narrow road that climbs between dry stone...
The patter of horses´ hooves in the white pavement returning after a gallop among the carob trees is the music that kicks off the medieval evening we have organized to inaugurate our new farmhouse. In the courtyard we breathe in the crisp scent of bread, while industrious attendants make gigs with the dishes, we...
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