We are Diana Badosa and Eduard Talamàs, a couple born and raised in Barcelona, deeply in love with this land. Diana is an entrepreneur with a career in the sports apparel industry; Eduard is an economist. Together, we lived nearly a decade in the United States, where our children, Marc and Abril, were born. Today, we live in Barcelona — but our hearts have always been anchored here, in Empordà.

We always loved Empordà — its ancient villages, its fields of light, its quiet dignity, its proximity to a fantastic corner of the Mediterranean. But it wasn’t until we lived in the U.S. — first in Boston and then in New York — that we truly understood how rare and precious this place is. There, we were surrounded by incredible energy and opportunity. But history felt young, still being written. Centuries-old stone paths, medieval castles, and towns that have lived a thousand years — they simply do not exist.

Empordà is different. Here, you walk streets that have seen the footprints of countless generations. You live inside walls that have survived wars, revolutions, renaissances, and dreams. Here, the past isn't a museum — it is alive, breathing through the stones, the fields, and the sea air.

In 2021, we found a forgotten medieval house tucked away in Corçà — a house long known as "Cal Ferrer," the blacksmith’s house. As we renovated it over the following four years, we found the echoes of its past everywhere: blackened walls, soot-stained beams, alcoves of fire and work. Before the Industrial Revolution reshaped the world, this was a place where families and craftsmen lived, worked, dreamed, and raised their children by the glow of forge and fire.

As we peeled back the layers of time, we uncovered even more secrets: windows that had been sealed, arches that had been buried, ceilings that had been raised. We chose to leave these ancient marks visible — silent witnesses to centuries of lives lived within these walls. When we see them, we are reminded of all the hands, all the dreams, all the struggles and hopes that shaped this house before us.

Even the very act of moving through Cal Ferrer is a reminder of time’s passage. Many of the doorways still preserve their original stone frames — lower and narrower than today’s, shaped for the stature of another time. Every time we duck under a doorway, we are reminded: we are living in a home that was built centuries ago, in a world so different from ours — and yet so intimately connected.

Between 2023 to 2025, we lived inside these walls full-time, making them the heart of our everyday life as we brought new life to each room, one by one. Marc and Abril went to the town’s school down the road (at the other end of "Carrer Major"), becoming part of the daily life of Corçà, weaving our family into the village’s living fabric. Day by day, stone by stone, meal by meal, we lived the same ancient rhythm — sleeping, eating, laughing, arguing, dreaming, raising our children — exactly as countless families had done here long before us, in a world with no electricity, no running water, no glass windows, and plenty of animals around the house.

Sometimes we wonder: what would those families think if they could see our lives today? Could they imagine the miracle of warm water on demand in their own home, of light at the flick of a switch? How about the possibility of working with people on the other side of the planet from this very house? Would they envy us, or simply smile — knowing that the most important things have not changed: the laughter around the table, the dreams whispered at night, the love that makes a house a home?

And yet, even as we restored what once was, we planted what had never been. We planted new vines and flowers along the ancient stones — walls that, as far as we know, had stood for centuries without a leaf or bloom. We opened eight large windows facing south and east — walls that had once been nearly blind to the sun now flooded with light. 

Watching the plants and flowers climb higher every spring, and the sunlight pour deeper every morning, we feel something indescribable: the quiet magic of giving new life to old bones. A house that had lived for centuries wrapped in darkness now wakes to the brightness of a new era. And every guest who stays here, every conversation shared, every dream dreamt inside these walls, adds even more life to this house. 

Cal Ferrer is a living bridge across time — a rare invitation to be part of a human story that stretches backward and forward, built by hands, lived by hearts. When you stay here, you are not just visiting Empordà. You are becoming part of something timeless — a story of resilience, wonder, craft, renewal, and hope. 

Together, grain by grain, root by root, memory by memory, family by family, we can honor the past to better appreciate the present — and to dream of an even brighter future.