The Barchesse at Villa Pisani have a similar sense of calm to the cloisters in churches and cathedrals; without thought your voice is lowered. The ancient stone floor soaks up the sound of your footsteps, leaving only your shadow to disturb the silence.
Once there would have been the clattering of cart wheels as the crops arrived. Great bundles of tobacco would have been dragged up the stairs to the drying room above. The oxen, tired of their labours, would have stood panting in the heat. Now it is only the visitor loitering, listening for echoes from the past, who seeks shelter and relief.