A 200-year-old house, slowly re-made for gathering.
Olea was a working olive estate for six generations before the trees grew quiet. We spent four years restoring the main house and outbuildings with local stonemasons and carpenters, keeping the bones — the lime walls, the cypress beams, the worn marble thresholds — and adding only what a circle needs to do its work.
The result is not a hotel. There is no front desk and no programming. There is a kitchen, a long table, a studio with sprung floors, two small therapy rooms, and a courtyard that holds twenty people at dusk. You bring the cohort. The house holds the rest.