A Family Legacy, and the Quiet Rebirth of a Mountain Retreat in Abruzzo
Some houses don’t just stand still, they wait.
On a narrow lane in the old part of Pescina, high up in the Abruzzo mountains, sits one such house. A modest row home built of stone and story, timeworn and weathered, quietly holding onto generations of memory.
They used to keep animals here. Before that, it was a shelter carved into the hillside. Later, it became a resting place for returning guest workers, my grandfather Ezio among them, riding into town with a donkey and suitcase, home from Germany, just for a while.
And then, for decades, it stood still.
It wasn’t until my father Manfred, my mother Angela, and my husband Okan all came together that we said: “Let’s do it. Let’s bring this house back to life.”
We were lucky to have the support of Ilaria Venier, our friend and architect. Without her deep knowledge of Italian building structures and regulations, I don’t think we would’ve had the courage to go through with it.
After long days at her job, Illaria worked on creating the official plans for us, knowledge and a project that’s absolutely essential if you want to renovate or rebuild a house in Italy.
Then the machines rolled in, and the house was gutted completely. Everything old was torn out to make space for something new.
The Place Time Forgot
Pescina (AQ) lies at 750 meters above sea level, nestled between the wild, untouched slopes of the Abruzzo National Park and a sky that changes color by the hour.
The Casa di Angela, as we now call it, named after my mother, had seen no love since the 1950s. Its stone façade cracked, the interior brittle and cold, the floorboards creaking like old voices. But it had good bones. And it had soul. We didn’t just want to renovate it, we wanted to revive it.
The doors, the scale and the knowledge!
A Year of Building, Remembering, and Becoming
We started in 2022. From the first hammer strike to the last screw, the house was a family and friends effort: part construction site, part pilgrimage, part therapy.
My father Manfred, the most passionated engineer with a craftsman’s heart, designed and built the doors and staircase himself. My husband Okan and my brother Yannick joined him, hauling doors and metall from our family workshop in Süderdeich, northern Germany, across Croatia, by ferry to Pescara, and finally to Pescina. The doors were hung by hand. The stairs? Built where no stairs seemed to fit.
And finally, the custom-made fireplace door from Süderdeich arrived in Pescina, lovingly handcrafted and delivered after its long journey through Croatia, courtesy of Don Manfredo della Casa himself.
A glimpse into a day of teamwork, Manfred, Okan, and our neighbor Antonio. And at last, after one more day of true craftsmanship, the hand-welded fireplace door was set into place. And hej the fire burns and its looks gorgeous.
We worked with local artisans, yes, but also made plenty of mistakes. Take the bathroom mirror, for example. But when the mirror installer arrived, he took one look at the pre-built niche, shook his head and said: “You want a mirror in… that?”
The niche was wonky, uneven, and pre-cut at the wrong height. Our mirror crafter did what he could, shaking his head with a smile, but only afterward did we discover the real twist: the niche wasn’t just crooked, it was installed 30 cm too high. Not 120 cm like the rest of the civilized world, but 150 cm. Naturally. 🙂 A little architectural humor, courtesy of a misread or ignored plan from our wonderful Italian architect Ilaria Venier.
Just another moment of architectural improvisation, part misunderstanding, part Italian charm.
Of course, there were surprises. There always are.
Like the moment we peeked under the roof and…surprise! Discovered not one but two mysterious interior walls, with absolutely no structural work done behind them. Hidden. Forgotten. Untouched.
Naturally, we reacted the way only Germans would:
We couldn’t sleep knowing that above our heads and our future guests, lurked… well, questionable stability.
So Okan took the lead. Together with our cousin Mattia and Antonio, we spent two dusty, dirty weeks ripping everything out, clearing the space, and rebuilding the floor with solid wood.
Was it necessary? Maybe.
Did it help us sleep better at night? Absolutely.
Now to the Heart of Life. The Kitchen with the Fireplace
In Italy, the kitchen is never just a kitchen. It’s where life unfolds, hour by hour, bite by bite. It’s where nonna’s secrets live in saucepans. Where arguments turn into laughter, and where the simplest ingredients become a feast, not because they’re fancy, but because they’re made with time, warmth, and intention.
At Casa di Angela, the kitchen is more than a room.
It’s a romance. A gentle love story between the scent of fresh basil, the glisten of olive oil, the soft rustle of handmade pasta, and just the right amount of garlic sizzling in the pan. And behind all of that, always is Angela, our mother, partner, cousin and love and she is the namesake of the house.
Her recipes are “semplice ma buono”
Angela was a true cucina soul, a quiet magician at the stove. Her cooking was pure poetry: warm, honest, unforgettable. Dishes made with instinct, passed down not on paper, but through gesture and memory.
This kitchen was built in her spirit, wood she said wood, simple, generous, full of soul.
It’s where you come not just to eat, but to stay, to talk, to stir something slowly and to breathe in the feeling of home.
“La cucina è il cuore della casa.”
The kitchen is the heart of the home.
Image from Giusi Borrasi.
The House Today – Stone, Fire, Silence
Today, Casa di Angela is more modest than we imagined.
It’s a rustic-modern mountain home, built from stone and wood, restored to breathe. You’ll find a wood-burning fireplace, a balcony facing endless hills, and the kind of quiet you can hear in your chest.
We kept it simple on purpose. We didn’t want a villa. We wanted a retreat to the origin. The house asks you to listen. To the wind. The church bells. The footsteps on the cobblestones. And to yourself.
This Is Not a Hotel
There is no reception desk. No daily cleaning service. No infinity pool.
But there is morning light. A handmade staircase. The scent of woodsmoke. Bread from the bakery down the alley. Wild herbs in the walls also sound of the vespa.
Stories in every corner. Ours. Yours. The house’s.
Come stay.
Not just for the mountains. Not just for the silence.
But to remember what it feels like to be still.
📍 Casa di Angela – Pescina, Abruzzo, Italy
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From our hearts to yours – you are all warmly welcome here. Here are missing some members – as soon i have an image you will see the hole crowd. 🙂 Thank you!
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