One story, two houses.
From the Adriatic to the Atlantic.
It begins on Korčula. A house our great-grandparents built with their own hands, small and modest at first, then a wall, a room, a carefully placed stone added by each generation. Children still run down the same road to swim that our grandmothers walked with donkeys carrying green branches for the goats.
In 2019 we exchanged the Mediterranean for the Atlantic and brought our way of living and making with us. An old Breton property became home: part house, part garden, part studio, and open to guests.
We keep both. Rosemary, thyme and curry plants somehow coexist with Breton rain; the lemons on Korčula still ripen without us. For more than thirteen years, in Croatia and now in Brittany, we have welcomed strangers into places we call home — and watched them become guests, and sometimes friends.
Neighbor's horse