How a dream found its place in Piemonte

Seven years ago, we rented a holiday home in a region we barely knew, Piemonte. We went for the house, beautiful photos, quiet surroundings, the promise of space. What we didn’t expect was to fall hopelessly in love with a way of life.

Piemonte welcomed us gently. With silence instead of noise, long lunches instead of hurried meals, conversations that took their time and evenings that seemed to stretch endlessly. The Piedmontese taught us something without ever saying it out loud, life doesn’t need to be rushed to be full.

Somewhere between a glass of local wine, a crackling fireplace and dinners that lasted well into the night, a dream quietly took shape. One day, we thought, we would love a place here of our own. A hideaway, a home where family and friends could gather, where slow cooking and slow living would be the norm, and where time finally had room to breathe.

Fast forward to December 2024. A house appeared online. An old farmhouse, lovingly renovated thirty years earlier by an Italian family and transformed into a holiday home. We looked at the photos and immediately decided it was far beyond what we could ever afford. Dream over. Or so we thought…

In July 2025, while staying nearby in Monastero Bormida, the house was still for sale. Just looking, we said. No expectations. But looking quickly turned into imagining. Imagining turned into falling in love. And love, as it often does, refused to listen to reason.

We stopped thinking in limitations and started thinking in possibilities. A month and a half later, our offer was accepted.

At the end of November, after two intense hours at a notary’s office in Turin, conducted entirely in Italian, a language we definitely do not master (for now ;-)) we walked out as the proud new owners of what would become Villa Augustin. Slightly dazed, slightly overwhelmed, but incredibly happy.

Our mission became clear that day, to let this house awaken again. To breathe new life into it, without erasing its soul. The dream had found its place.

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Of empty rooms, full cars and learning to let go