I needed just to hear the words “lake” and “house” and I had pretty much booked my ticket, packed my bikinis and sprayed on the sun block. I didn’t know anything about Lake Bolsena, or Lago di Bolsena as the Italians call it, but that mattered even less. I am a woman of experiences. And this was my chance to go to a new place, with an old friend.

Lake Bolsena is close to Rome – just 2 hours by car – but it is not chic. That is to say, at first glance. The banks and beaches are littered with army green bungalow tents, unruly campsites, slightly overweight European tourists and plastic, rainbow-colored amusement. No one wears heels or drives fancy cars. It’s quiet, uncomplicated fun.

Which is all fine, and you could live with that, until you climb the hills and find the houses. Those glorious, old, stone farm houses. They’ve been there for centuries, some still owned and occupied by their rightful noble owners, others restored, redecorated, and reimagined by pioneering (and smart!) city folks. Like my host, Laura Moltedo (of Bottega Veneta), who bought her ivy pad a year and a half ago for her son, Gabriele. They have a few acres, 2500 olives trees and big plans to transform the surrounding grounds into something that, by the sound of it, could very well be a boutique resort one day. (Then we can ALL come back next summer!?)

For one week I spent my days waking up in a pretty, sun-drenched room on top of the hill, sipping Italian, home-brewed coffee, eating more fish than humanly possible and scratching my ass, basically. I played tennis, went running, wrestled with a German shepard named Bella and swam in the pool, with or sans frog. We visited Laura’s friend at her castle in Viterbo and another just down the road in a red house. The entire thing was a cultural bird bath and I got my wings wet every day.

But the highlight of the trip was perhaps when we drove to Montalcino for dinner. We left the house around 5 PM and followed the winding roads through Tuscany, into the sunset. The colors changed every second, every time my lens clicked. The greens turned into browns, that turned into ochres, that turned into black. That two hour drive was stupendous and the food and wine we ordered even better.

Thank you Corto and mama Laura!