If you are an esthete, go to Trento. That’s all I have to tell you.

One of the most respectable families in Northern Italy has built a fantastic museum of modern art there. It was created almost entirely with their private investments and it’s packed with the works of art from their own private collection.

It’s slightly smaller in size than Guggenheim, has a huge glass dome, and knocks out everyone who dares to discuss art only from the business point of view, as well those who say that the patrons of the arts are Martians. “They don’t exist, because no one’s ever seen them”.

They do exist, gentlemen and disbelieving three-penny businessmen. I saw them and I’m acquainted with them. Thanks to all the gods and to my friends.

But I have to talk about the hospitality and the food.

Sorry. I was blown away!

When your jaws start to close again, and the museum is seen completely, it is necessary to make a very small journey and reach the house. It belongs to the second part of the same family, on account of one magnificent wedding ceremony mentioned below.

The house is turned into a resort and this is the Villa Madruzzo.

«Father wants to see you!» a graceful big-eyed beauty, Valentina Polonyoli, was shining on the eve of that epoch-making wedding, which united “the two equally respected families».

The owner, he is Battista Polonioli, welcomed me with open arms as if I was part of the family. Behind him, were a few virtual corpses of the event’s organizers lying around. He personally led the storming banquet service, organizing a pre-wedding table for 100 people, and shaking everyone’s hand so that the slightest doubt in his omnipotence was laid to rest.

Gods! If all men were like Battista Polonioli, we would already be walking among orchid gardens on Alpha Centauri. But alas and ah, there are very few men like him and we’re on Earth. It seems like for good.

There are no gigantic spaces or banquet rooms on the villa. It’s a house, a magnificent house in the olden way, carefully preserved, with ancient window sashes. There’s an age-old forest around, on the slopes of hills, and over ravines of rivers.

The villa is the realm of prosperity, created by one family and the energy of Polonioli, who doesn’t know of fatigue, as one doesn’t tire of his or her favorite work and favorite people.

In his hands, everybody is to feel themselves protected and happy. You’re attended to here, as you would be attended to at home. There are no strict rules. If you want, you can be alone and read a book in the dining room, or you can simply watch the ancient crystal wares being polished, or hang out on the steps of the main portal contemplating the modern building of the SPA with a panoramic pool in the distance. You can do whatever you like. You will be helped if you ask, or they will leave you alone to a book in an armchair and as if by accident push towards you a vase with candied fruit or mini biscotti.

Care-care-care.

Here the Michelin stars, received a couple of years ago, are nothing special. They’re taken for granted. They’re received for work and honesty. For Italy. For the restaurant.

You know what? Just book a flight to Milano, then get a small retro car. Something like Cabrio or Alfa Romeo, whatever. Put on your vis-à-vis a silk scarf. On yourself a neckerchief and a rose, it should definitely be a rose into the buttonhole. And head to Trento. You are an esthete, aren’t you?