A Tuscan Crown: 1022 Castle & Vine-Kissed Dominion in Crete Senesi

Perched like a sovereign upon its private hill between the whispering valleys of Chiana and Ombrone, this 1022 castle stands as Tuscany’s most poetic secret—a living testament to a millennium of history, now breathing as a vibrant estate where time moves to the rhythm of olive branches swaying in the golden light. Here, in the heart of the Crete Senesi’s moonlike hills, just beyond the thermal waters of Rapolano and the medieval charm of Asciano, a kingdom unfolds across 347 hectares of land so fertile it seems painted by the gods themselves.

The castle, its stone walls still echoing with the murmurs of knights and poets, crowns the estate with unyielding majesty. Its towers reach toward the same skies that have watched over ten centuries of harvests, while below, a symphony of agriculture thrives: ten hectares of vineyards heavy with Sangiovese and Trebbiano, their roots drinking deep from the earth’s ancient wisdom; twenty-five hectares of silver-leaved olive groves, their branches burdened with fruit that will become liquid gold in the estate’s press. The remaining land—a tapestry of amber wheat fields, emerald pastures, and shadowed woodlands—stretches to the horizon, where the cypress trees stand like sentinels guarding this private dominion.

Scattered across the gentle slopes, a constellation of farmhouses—some already warmed by crackling hearths, others waiting to be awakened from their slumber—offer sanctuary for guests, workers, or a court of chosen kin. Nearly 13,000 square meters of stone and timber tell stories in every beam and archway, from the grand halls where fires once roared for feudal lords to the intimate chambers where modern stewards now plan the next vintage or pen invitations to evenings of candlelit revelry. For this is no mere relic: the castle lives, its veins pulsing with the energy of a working farm, its cellars rich with the alchemy of winemaking, its courtyards alive with the laughter of events that blur the line between past and present.

Access is effortless—a whisper along the motorway, a fleeting drive from Siena’s towers—yet the moment the iron gates swing open, the world beyond fades. Here, the air is thick with the scent of crushed grapes and wild rosemary, the silence broken only by the distant chime of a church bell or the rustle of a hare through the underbrush. The Crete Senesi’s fabled clay hills, soft as velvet under the Tuscan sun, cradle the estate in isolation so profound it feels like standing at the edge of time itself.

This is more than land; it is legacy. More than stone; it is soul. A castle that has watched empires rise and fall now offers its keys to those who dare to write its next chapter—whether as custodians of its vineyards, architects of unforgettable gatherings, or simply as the fortunate few who wake each morning to the sight of mist curling over their own private valley, knowing that for a thousand years, this hill has been waiting for them.