Timeless Elegance and a Surprise Opera Singer: Hana & Benjamin's Wedding in Puglia
- Author: Natali Grace Levine
- Wedding date: 08/09/2026
- City: Campi Salentina
What followed their meeting during Covid lockdown was months of long evening phone calls, trading pasts and hopes and dreams long before either of them had settled on a favorite restaurant, and simple walks through the Cheshire countryside before either of them was technically allowed to call it a real date. “Life was quieter, and there was nowhere to rush to,” Hana says of that first stretch, and it shows in how deliberately the relationship unfolded. From that first proper date onward, they saw each other every single weekend without fail. The slower pace of those early months gave them something couples rarely get anymore: real, unhurried time to listen and learn whether they fit, six years before Puglia would prove they did.
The proposal itself arrived on a villa rooftop in Ostuni, on the same stretch of Puglia coastline that would later host their wedding. Benjamin had arranged a private chef for the evening and mentioned it to Hana beforehand, but nothing about it registered as unusual; he’s naturally thoughtful and loves new experiences, so a surprise dinner felt entirely in character rather than a clue. Hana found herself dressing up more than she had all holiday that evening, as if some part of her sensed what was coming before the rest of her caught up. The rooftop glowed with candles overlooking the pool, music playing as they moved through course after course, and just before dessert, mid-dance, Benjamin got down on one knee. Hana was too stunned to speak properly for the next twenty-four hours.
Hana and Benjamin married at Castello Monaci in Lecce, Puglia, on August 9, 2026, in front of 86 guests, closing out a full year of planning built around a single, clear idea: a day with real drama, without ever losing its warmth. The style drew from the timeless elegance of 1990s weddings, clean white linens, elegant florals, romantic and atmospheric rather than trend-led, exactly the kind of day Hana wanted to look back on in thirty years and regret nothing about.
That drama showed up in specific, considered ways rather than spectacle for its own sake: the sheer scale of the castle itself, a Steven Khalil gown, and a surprise opera performance neither of them saw coming until it was already happening. Nothing about the day was left to chance, right down to the ceremony time itself, weighed carefully between a 4pm, 5pm, or 6pm start to balance the August heat against protecting precious evening party time, and settled on 5pm as the sweet spot. But none of that planning ever came at the expense of the day feeling like them.
Down one hallway of the estate, Benjamin got dressed among his brothers, his father, and his young nephew, the kind of easy, slightly chaotic room where nobody’s watching the clock too closely, and someone’s always laughing at something just out of frame. Elsewhere on the same grounds, Hana had claimed something few brides ever get: the private apartment usually reserved for Castello Monaci’s own owners, quiet and entirely hers for the morning, the estate’s centuries of history settling around her while she got ready. Neither side arranged a formal getting-ready photoshoot, so what exists from those hours reads as genuinely candid rather than staged, a handful of stolen frames from inside that same borrowed apartment before the day properly began.
Hana ultimately chose Steven Khalil, tracking the gown down online before hunting through one of the designer's few limited UK stockists to actually try it on. The search itself became part of the story, five dresses and half a year before the right one finally clicked into place. Her final look stayed deliberately minimal beyond the dress itself: a custom 3.5-meter lace-edge veil, Aquazzura pumps, and diamond earrings, nothing more layered on top, since the gown genuinely didn't call for it. Her bouquet followed the same restrained instinct, rose and hydrangea in blush pink and white, echoing the same soft palette running through the rest of the day. "It was the 5th dress I tried on," Hana says. "Finding the right dress took me 6 months."
Benjamin dressed in a Cavani tuxedo, tailored sharp against the estate’s stone interiors, with his brothers, his father, and his nephew crowded around him the entire time. It read less like a formal styling session and more like a family gathering that happened to end in a tuxedo, laughter, and last-minute adjustments layered over each other, exactly the kind of low-key, familiar morning that actually suited him best. There was no separate hair or makeup team to manage, no strict schedule pulling him from room to room, just the small, ordinary rituals of getting dressed surrounded by the men who’d known him longest. By the time he stepped out to wait for Hana, the tuxedo had settled into place, but the ease from that morning stayed with him well into the ceremony.
The ceremony took place in the courtyard at Castello Monaci, stone walls holding the late-afternoon heat as Hana walked the aisle to Ennio Morricone’s “Gabriel’s Oboe.” Their nieces, Ophelia, Marlie, and Iris, scattered ahead as flower girls, while Oliver Grant, Benjamin’s best friend and chosen ring bearer, carried the rings while balancing his own young son, Hugo, on his hip, a small, unplanned detail that somehow ended up in half the photos anyway. Everything else blurred a little in the moment- the heat, the guests, the sheer weight of the day finally arriving- but the look on Benjamin’s face as Hana came down the stairs is the one thing she still sees with total clarity.
As a multicultural couple, her background Islamic and his Jewish, Hana and Benjamin wove both traditions into the ceremony deliberately rather than choosing one over the other. A script from the Quran was read aloud partway through, and the ceremony closed with the traditional smashing of the glass, a symbol of just how fragile relationships really are, and how much constant care and protection they demand to survive. It set the tone for everything that followed later that night, when the same sense of tradition erupted into full Israeli dancing, guests splitting into groups before lifting the couple onto chairs and throwing them into the air, an entirely different, electric register from the hush of the ceremony just hours before.
The photographer moved them through Castello Monaci’s interior first, stone corridors and centuries-old rooms doing most of the visual work without a single prop. Only once the harsh midday light finally eased did the two of them step back outside, the estate’s grounds turning warmer and more forgiving with every passing hour, exactly the kind of light that makes an already beautiful venue look like it was designed specifically for photographs. With no formal first look or earlier session to slow things down, this stretch became the couple’s first real chance to actually stand still together as husband and wife, away from the noise of eighty-six guests waiting on the other side of the castle walls. It’s a small window most couples rush through, but Hana and Benjamin let it run long, wandering the same grounds they’d walked while planning the day months earlier, now finally married on them.
The couple’s color palette stayed soft and cohesive throughout the day, white, blush pink, and a touch of green, carried through personalized details that went well beyond the standard favor table: hand fans, parasols, cocktail parasols, and edible prosecco wafers stamped with their own monogram. Choosing the venue came down to genuine familiarity with the region rather than a quick online search: “We knew Puglia well; we researched and visited this and 1 other venue,” Hana explains, before Castello Monaci won them over decisively. Behind the scenes, it was the wedding party and the venue’s own wedding chairmen who ended up mattering more than either of them expected going in, part guest, part invisible crew, keeping the entire day running seamlessly while still fully present and joyful throughout it. Their organization, reliability, and infectious energy, Hana says, made a difference neither of them could have anticipated beforehand.
Their advice for anyone considering the same region echoes their own experience planning from abroad: build a simple website introducing guests to Puglia itself, since many arriving from the UK had never spent real time in the area before and needed more context than a save-the-date could offer. Much of that vision only came together because of planner Salina Oraz, the quiet architecture behind a day that looked effortless from the outside, vendors coordinated, timelines held, a hundred small details across an international guest list handled long before anyone noticed them. It's the kind of work that succeeds by staying invisible, and it gave Hana and Benjamin something far rarer than a beautifully organized wedding: the freedom to actually be inside their own day instead of managing it.
“Vasyl, our photographer, and Anton and Sabina Yasirov, our videographers, both brought huge teams who kept energy high and helped us feel confident.” That same energy carried straight through to the night’s most unexpected moment: a surprise opera singer who appeared toward the end of dinner, closing the meal with Nessun Dorma as the entire room fell quiet. “I’ll never forget the room falling quiet as we closed dinner with Nessun Dorma,” Hana says.
The evening’s first dance carried that same operatic thread forward, the opera singer performing Con te partirò as the couple danced together for the first time as husband and wife. Dessert arrived as an XL Italian millefoglie, made by Castello Monaci itself and, according to Hana, the one detail out of the entire day she’d repeat exactly the same way without a second thought. “The atmosphere was electric, and seeing our guests so completely immersed in the celebrations is something we’ll never forget.” By the time the last course cleared, that same electricity had already tipped the room straight into Israeli dancing, chairs lifted, guests thrown into the air, an entirely different kind of noise than the hush that had settled over Nessun Dorma just an hour earlier.