In the golden heart of Valle d’Itria, where olive trees hold the breath of centuries and the wind carries the scent of thyme and myrtle, lies In-Canto — Trulli di Maya- not just a retreat, but a feeling. A place born from Maya’s vision. Each Trullo is a quiet ode to beauty and belonging.
What once was a home for her family has gently unfolded into a sanctuary for travellers. A place where time stretches softly, and everything invites you to slow down and stay.
My name is Maya, my parents italian and dutch, I was raised in Milan, and later, I raised my own children in Bassano del Grappa — always in search of a quieter and fuller life, closer to what feels real.
I found these Trulli when my children were small, and it was clear to my heart this was going to be our summer home.
It started as a dream. Year by year, with patience and reverence this property slowly came to life.
I’ve always loved design and architecture , materials and textures — the silent harmony of spaces that feel right .
I adore animals, and I wanted them close: chickens who gift us their pastel eggs, and donkeys, gentle and grounding.
My love for nature lead me to plant wildflowers and Mediterranean herbs around every Trullo — their fragrance drifts through the air, giving each corner a breath of life.
Outdoor living, cooking, the rhythm of the seasons — these are the things that nourish us here.
And yoga — which I’ve practiced and taught for over 30 years — remains my daily practice. A quiet ritual of presence and peace.
It has been a journey of love — one that unfolded slowly, intuitively, and always with respect for the land.
I restored each Trullo listening to its shape, its history, its needs.
Every object, every material was chosen with care — to soothe, to harmonize, to invite a sense of belonging.
Nothing is ornamental. Everything has a quiet purpose: to offer serenity, to honour the past, and to celebrate simplicity.
There is something deeply moving about seeing friends and families return, their laughter echoing in the air, their memories layering softly upon ours.
And then, there are the memories — of my children running through the fields, of warm dinners under the stars, of quiet afternoons in the garden.
Those moments live in the walls. They are part of this place, always.
The feeling here is one of stillness.
A quiet pulse that lives in the raw stone walls, in the filtered light, in the breeze that rustles the lavender.
It’s simple, unforced, and aligned with the rhythms of the land.
When you arrive, you feel it — a soft slowing down, a sense that you can finally exhale.
Mornings with the chickens, coffee in hand, sun just beginning to rise.
Their presence is calming, almost meditative, children love it. A quiet reminder that beauty can be found in the most ordinary rituals.
The Valle d’Itria carries a magnetic, ancient energy — something you feel more than see.
The ley line of Saint Michael passes through here, and many speak of its healing quality.
Nearby towns like Locorotondo, Cisternino, Alberobello, and Martina Franca seem to rise from dreams — whitewashed walls, winding alleys, and dinners that stretch into moonlight.
It’s a landscape of grace, where tradition still dances with the everyday.
Yes, and they are part of our daily life — not trends, but gestures of respect.
We cultivate a vegetable garden and eat what the season gives us. Our olive oil is organic, cold pressed and shared with care.
It’s a celebration each year, when we harvest — hands in the earth, hearts full.
We produce our own flour as well and it is so heart warming to look at the golden fields.
I believe beauty becomes more meaningful when shared.
What we created for ourselves — a rhythm of peace, of grounding, of simplicity — began to ask to be extended to others.
To welcome travellers who long for authenticity, presence, and depth.
A quiet restoration of the soul.
Time that expands and softens.
Children here are free and happy and feel at home.
A return not a stay— to something familiar, even if you’ve never been here before.
That such places still exist.
Spaces where life slows down, where the mind is calm and it possible to breathe and feel joy.
A softness. A new pace.
That their time here brings lightness to their return — a reminder that peace is possible, and beauty can be simple.
That they take home special memories with their children.
Take your time.
Because when you leave, you might find yourself longing to return — not just to this place, but to this way of being.