A Private Hamlet in Gers’ Golden Hills – Three Homes, a Lake & Endless Possibility

Nestled into the sun-drenched folds of the Gers countryside, where the air hums with the scent of wild thyme and the distant Pyrenees paint the horizon in shades of violet, this 34-hectare estate unfolds like a living watercolor. Here, time moves to the rhythm of rustling plane trees and the quiet ripple of a private lake—its silvered surface mirroring the sky, the rolling hills, the golden light that spills across the land as if poured from a painter’s palette.

At the heart of this secluded hamlet stands a contemporary manor house, its clean lines softened by the warmth of honeyed stone, flanked by two elegant villas—each a sanctuary of space and light. Together, they form a private enclave where generations could gather, where laughter might echo across terraces strung with wisteria, where evenings dissolve into starlit dinners beneath the vast Occitan sky. For those who dream of legacy, of a place where family roots run deep, this is a canvas waiting to be filled with stories.

Yet the estate’s magic lies not just in its homes, but in its boundless potential. Three charming gîtes, tucked like secrets among the oaks, whisper of possibility: a boutique hotel where guests wake to the song of nightingales, a wellness retreat where yoga mats unfurl beside the lake at dawn, or a riding stable where hooves kick up dust on trails winding through wildflower meadows. The land itself—a tapestry of pasture, woodland, and water—invites reinvention: a vineyard for sun-kissed grapes, a cookery school where truffles and armagnac inspire, a wedding venue where vows are exchanged beneath a canopy of ancient branches.

Practicality, too, is woven into the romance. The nearby village of Marciac, with its cobbled squares and jazz-filled summers, offers boulangeries where bread is still pulled warm from wood-fired ovens, and markets overflowing with peaches and foie gras. Schools, cafés, and the gentle pulse of daily life are but a ten-minute drive away, while the Pyrenees—their peaks dusted with snow—beckon skiers in under ninety minutes. The Atlantic’s salt-kissed breezes? Just over two hours distant.

This is more than an estate; it is a kingdom of quiet grandeur, where the land breathes and the light lingers. A place to build empires of memory—whether through the clink of wine glasses at a long farmhouse table, the hush of a corporate retreat in the library, or the joy of children racing barefoot through fields of poppies. Here, in the golden heart of Occitanie, the extraordinary is not just possible—it is already waiting.