The family home of Downton Abbey and the Italian-style cottage

“The pot is too small, dear,” says Nentsia, who is also wearing a feathered hat.

The girls fill the space with loud conversations reminiscent of "Little Women in Umbria," accidentally unscrewing their father's lamps and teasing him for building the pool only after they left ("Everything he does," says Olympia, 16, "he does for himself"). Bolezza jokes in response, saying that the door he installed under the portrait of Clement XII, Pope Corsini, is meant for easy access to the lawn dotted with tents "for weddings." Time passes, the teasing quiets down, and Georgiana, 21, looks around and says, "I can't remember how we lived before we had this."

And me too, Georgiana.

The return from the new Bolza barn to their former home in the castle, where they lived for 11 years, highlights their all-encompassing approach to a good life. After designing so many homes for others, Bolza says that restoring the hotel was a challenge of "designing for ourselves," because he "wanted it to feel like we never left. As if it were still our home."

Nentsia herself is an artist. She keeps her brushes and tools in the studio on the mezzanine.

They like it here. 36 unique rooms and suites (including six suites in the former sacristy across the courtyard) form a luxurious oasis in the rural Umbrian countryside. They are infused with a maximalist old-fashioned Grand Hotel style, blending brass and wood, and are so rich in cozy details that we wondered what delicacy was hidden in the two fabric bags in the bathroom. My wife sniffed them for lavender, and I jumped on my shoulders - they contained rolled-up bath towels. Nencia decorates the rooms, corners, and everything else with a garden of gathered flowers that she and the staff dry in an old boot room. In her "magical laboratory," as the hotel calls it, she mixes natural pigments for the muted and textured walls of the hotel. She also takes care of the fabrics and designs the staff uniforms, reminiscent of images from "Into the Woods." ("It would be our great pleasure to wash your car," one of the Merry Men of Bolza said to me when we handed over the keys to our car.) In the lounge, drowning in kentia and taro leaves, the reflection of hanging lamps bounces off the atrium roof while a jazz pianist plays standards. We heard Texas oilmen talking business and Turkish jet-setters discussing Turkey. Two young British lovers got engaged.

In the well-maintained park, there are hidden fortresses of luxury. There are hunting hides and lakes where the Bolza family used to swim in the summer before the pool was built in the barn. In the palace's stable, two out of the 30 Spanish purebred horses of the estate, Principe and Casanova (the latter being Count Antonio's favorite training horse), move gracefully without a bridle. "When we started, 20 years ago," says stable director Antonello Radicchi, sitting in the saddle, "it was fantastic." From the castle's bastions, I look down at the infinity pool that Paltrow saw, reflecting the ancient pines like a round Art Deco mirror. "There's a small deck," says Bolza, "for showing off."

All of this is thoroughly documented in the clever Instagram videos of the family, made in a silent film style, which, interspersed with horseback riding, basket weaving, pouring exquisite wine, and close-ups of hand-farmed food, have gained popularity since the hotel opened during the Covid pandemic.

“Instagram saved us,” says Bolza. However, his family is known for their ability to survive. Count Antonio Bolza is a descendant of a noble Italian family, whose coat of arms can still be found around Lake Como. He grew up in Hungary, escaped communism to Austria at the age of five on his father's shoulders, and still keeps the pocket watch he brought with him; it used to have a gold chain, but his father sold it to buy a pig. Antonio built a career in publishing hotel guides, became the owner of a publishing house, and “has always strived to have land again,” Benedikt tells me.