We keep the doors of a private house and the standards of a hotel. There is no lobby to cross and no queue to join — someone meets you, takes your bag, and shows you up. Breakfast runs until you are awake.
No two laid out alike, every one quiet.
In the courtyard or your room, unhurried.
Twenty metres, heated, morning light.
Water side, past the fish market.
No two laid out alike. Every one of them is quiet, and every one of them has a bath.
Ground floor, opening onto the courtyard through its own set of doors. The quietest rooms we have.
A sitting room, a dressing room and a balcony over the jasmine. Two of these exist.
The terrace, after dark
The pool sits inside the old walls, and after dark it is lit like a room. Dinner arrives from the kitchen across the terrace, and nobody asks you to move.
The dining room, lit for the evening
A dining room that takes reservations and a courtyard that does not. The menu changes when the market does, which is to say most weeks.
No resort fees, no upsell at the desk. The list below is included with every room.
Served in the courtyard or your room, from six until eleven.
Twenty metres, heated, open from six in the morning.
Four treatment rooms. Booking a day ahead is wise.
A car and a driver, at any hour, arranged at the desk.
Quiet, licensed, and open to residents through the night.
Two rooms for ten and thirty, with a courtyard between them.
We came for two nights and stayed for six. The staff remember how you take your coffee by the second morning, which is either training or kindness, and after a week I stopped caring which.
A guest, after a long weekend
