Arrive as a guest.
Become part of the Borgo.
A real, living village in the heart of Chianti Classico.
The rhythm the village keeps every day
The village wakes before you do. Shutters open one by one, the smell of bread drifts from the kitchen, and the first bells cross the valley, coffee finds you before you've asked for it.
Morning
By midday the heat has slowed everyone down. Guests drift toward the pool, the olive trees hold their shade, and the vineyards outside your window seem to stand still, waiting for evening.
Afternoon
As the light turns gold, the Borgo Bar begins to fill. Glasses meet on the terrace, the groves below catch the last sun, and the whole village seems to lean toward the horizon.
Sunset
The piazza comes back to life. Tables are laid, wine is poured, and voices carry across the stone long after the sun is gone, the day closes the way it began, together.
Evening
Sleep in the houses of the Borgo
28 rooms and suites, each carrying the memory of the family that once lived there.
Every evening, the table becomes the reason to stay. Bread still warm, oil pressed just up the hill, a glass of Vescine's own Chianti Classico, and the shared ritual of sitting down together, guests and hosts alike, until the last course turns into another hour of conversation.
At the table
The land
The Borgo is not alone. Forty-two hectares of vineyards and olive groves surround it, working on their own calendar, buds in spring, fruit ripening through summer, the harvest that pulls everyone outdoors in autumn.
The swallows leave every winter and come back every spring, nesting under the same eaves they always have. None of this was arranged for guests. It was here first, and it will keep going after you leave, you simply get to be part of it for a few days.
Moments
Some things are planned. Others just happen.
A long table appears in the piazza for a dinner under the stars. The grape harvest calls everyone into the vineyards for a morning, hands stained purple by lunch. A screen goes up against the old stone wall for an open-air film once the heat breaks. A craftsman sets up in the square, working leather or wood while guests stop to watch and ask questions they didn't know they had.
Book your stay
For a few days, this can be your Borgo. The mornings, the light turning gold over the groves, the piazza filling again once the sun drops, none of it stops when you check out. The only thing that changes is whether you're still part of it.
