Venues we know by heart.

A honey-stone manor at the end of a lime avenue, with a walled garden that holds the evening light longer than anywhere else on the estate.

A fourteenth-century tithe barn with oak trusses, a cobbled yard and a meadow that turns gold by late August.

A sheltered cove reached by a cliff path, with turquoise water at low tide and room for two, or twenty.

A Victorian glasshouse behind a quiet London square, full of ferns, fig trees and long tables.

A hilltop villa above the vineyards, with cypress lines, a stone terrace and a view that goes on into Switzerland on a clear day.

A small castle house under the mountains, built for weddings of thirty and long walks in any weather.

Georgian assembly rooms with chandeliers, a sprung dance floor and a stone staircase made for an entrance.

An old stone mas among lavender and umbrella pines, with a long table under the plane trees.