I was Milanese, with the hectic life that only Milan can offer. I never would have thought of leaving my city, my routine, my world. Yet, fate, or perhaps a whim, led me elsewhere. It all started with a trip, an exploration of the castles of the Loire. Among the majestic residences, the imposing castles, I found a more modest one, Montpoupon. Jokingly, I said to myself, "I will call my country house that!" The following year, Portugal bewitched me. Strolling through the streets of Lisbon, I discovered the azulejos, the typical decorated tiles. I bought a set with the name "MONPOUPON, " forgetting the "T, " because in French it was not pronounced, and I didn't exactly remember how it was spelled. A small mistake, an insignificant detail, I thought. Years later, life had a surprise in store for me. A farmhouse in the hills of Piacenza, an enchanting place, a dream come true. And, without hesitation, I called that house "Monpoupon. " A name that encapsulated a journey, a memory, a love for beauty and simplicity. A name that reminded me that sometimes, happiness is found in the most unexpected places, in a modest castle, in a forgotten tile, in a house that becomes your refuge.