The boatbuilder owns 1,200 olive trees. His recipe for long life? Bread, olive oil, a tomato, oregano, feta — rubbed together and eaten each morning. ‘Never sleep under a fig tree,’he warns. ‘The dreams are too heavy.’

Bread here is sacred. Paximadia crumbs are wrapped in cloth and kissed — never wasted. A ritual of memory and gratitude, harking back to The Last Supper.

In autumn, quail flood the Mani. Locals net them, roast them, seal them in cans of oil. But I prefer feta breakfasts and turquoise swims at Voidokilia — the cow’s belly cove.

‘We came in sight of Kardamyli… the mountains rushed down, almost to the water’s edge…’— Patrick Leigh Fermor

Six days from London, I’m changing colour. Swimming from stones beneath a new moon. Jetty dives, backgammon, supper at Leila’s — though Leila is gone. Her grandson is learning to cook, heading to Shoreditch soon. “We shut in August,” he shrugs. “Father doesn’t like the people who come then.”

A storm barrels in from the Libyan Sea. Cocktails at a roadside van with jazz on the radio. The map blurs.

We drive from Kalamitsi to Limeni, to swim where Mavromichalis once ruled. Then on to Kyrimai Castle — once a slave port, now a UNESCO hotel on the edge of Gerolimenas. I swim in Hades-green water. Shotgun-pocked signs lead us to Monemvasia, a city in vinegar. The alleys whisper Byzantine prayers. Tourists drag wheelie bags through the heat.

We press north — past Sparta, past orange groves, into Napflion. A harbour town lined with palms. From Room 202 at the Agamemnon, we look across to Bourtzi Fortress. Civilization feels close again. A cold glass of red. Salt in my hair.

Hydrofoil to Hydra. No cars. Only bells and cats. Sharks drift here from Suez. In Mandraki Harbour, I swim again. “One for the microbes,” they say, raising another carafe.

Clink your glasses like frogs. Or touch them silently, so the abbot doesn’t hear. Either way, drink well.

Egg and lemon soup the next morning — avgolemono, the best cure there is. We stay at Hotel Miranda, whitewashed and elegant, with a courtyard shaded by lime trees. At Pension Efie, Room 6 smells of fresh bread from the bakery below.

To Athens. Room 601 at Hotel Lozenge. Rooftops, dust, heat. On a ferry to Spetses, I share chocolate cigars with a Gucci jewellery designer. “Go to the Cycladic Museum,” he tells me. “Niarchos Foundation. Nolan for sushi. You’ve earned a break from horiatiki.”

From the rooftop of the Grand Bretagne, I sketch the Church of St George. A landmark in every sense, the Grande Bretagne sits opposite Syntagma Square like a grand old diplomat — poised, watchful, perfectly tailored. Its neoclassical bones have hosted monarchs, writers, and wartime tacticians. In 1941, Patrick Leigh Fermor secured a room here while the hotel was partly requisitioned by the Greek government, its corridors echoing with resistance whispers and radio static. Today, you arrive to polished marble, liveried doormen, and a discreet nod from a concierge who’s seen it all.

Ask for a room on a high floor facing the Acropolis — at sunrise, its honeyed columns feel almost touchable. Downstairs, breakfast on the rooftop terrace is a ritual: Greek yoghurt, bitter orange marmalade, and a table with the Parthenon framed like a living postcard. In the afternoon, swim in the rooftop pool while church bells sound over the Temple of Olympian Zeus. The Winter Garden Lounge remains the city’s most civilised refuge — piano playing, silver teapots, and the scent of jasmine from the flower stalls below.

It is a hotel that understands ceremony. The raising of the flag on the Acropolis each morning. The hush of thick carpets in the hallway. The gentle clink of a Negroni as the sun sets on a city that gave us democracy, theatre, and the gods.

Dawn: the flag rises over the Acropolis. I sketch the temple of Athena — dedicated to the goddess of craft and calm, hoping some of those powers might rub off. War and wisdom. By breakfast, I’m back on the terrace, coffee in hand, the Parthenon within reach.

At the Niarchos Foundation, sage and pomegranate grow under Renzo Piano’s lines. In(n) Athens: Room 4 — ash-dusted courtyard, concrete floors, rust, olives, steel. Fire still lingers in the air.

In Piraeus, Room 703 at the Dream. Ferry in the morning. Church bells at dusk. We board for Milos — white-hot, lunar, mythical. Where Aphrodite rose from the sea.

On this island, newborns are baptised in saltwater, not stone. And travellers, this one at least, are reborn.

Viewfinder / Peleponnese — Hydra — Athens

Roomkey

Hotel Grande Bretagne — Athens’ neoclassical grand dame, where marble meets mythology and the Parthenon is your window view.

Hotel Rex, Kalamata – faded grandeur, unchanged since the 1950s

Kyrimai Castle, Gerolimenas – stone walls and sea views; rich in shadow and silence

Hotel Agamemnon, Nafplion – Room 202: balcony over the harbour

Hotel Miranda, Hydra – a neoclassical mansion turned home

Pensione Efie, Hydra – Room 6 above a bakery

Hotel Lozenge, Athens – Room 601: modernist calm

In(n) Athens – Room 4: fire-marked and spare

Piraeus Dream, Piraeus – Room 703, overlooking rooftops

Various ferries, hydrofoils, and car hires along the way

Table With a View

Ouzerie on Kalamata Harbour – kolothokeftedes and retsina with fishermen

Leila’s Taverna, Kardamyli – family-run legacy of Patrick Leigh Fermor’s housekeeper

Elies, Kardamyli – best during storms, with jazz from a nearby van

Mandraki Harbour, Hydra – wine, sea spray

Terrace of the Grand Bretagne, Athens – breakfast beneath the Acropolis

Nolan, Athens – refined Japanese-Greek crossover recommended by a Gucci muse

Niarchos Foundation Café – herbal air, slow design

Through the Lens

Voidokilia Bay – perfect curve of the cow’s belly

Kardamyli Jetty at dusk – one swimmer, one moon, inky water

Monemvasia – Byzantine spiced heat

Hydra’s steps at sunrise – watch the sky change

The flag rising at the Parthenon – quiet reverence in blue light

Milos’s lunar cliffs – light bounces like a drumbeat

On The Road

Car of choice: Alfa Romeo Stelvio Veloce Q4 — matte Misano Blue with carbon interior, sport-tuned suspension and all-wheel drive. Stylishly agile on coastal switchbacks, with enough bite to handle Mani’s mountain hairpins. The 8.8” display keeps your route elegant and uncluttered — like the rest of the car. Book through Avance (Athens International Airport), offering curated premium selections. Ask for the Stelvio or a classic Defender if your taste leans more vintage-rally romantic.

Best stretch: From Kardamyli to Gerolimenas — a drive carved from limestone, with goat bell soundtracks and a new view at every turn. Open the windows, queue the Kolida Babo record, and lean into the sun.

Windowseat

Fly in: Direct flights to Kalamata International Airport (KLX) from London Heathrow and Gatwick (seasonal, April–October). Or fly year-round to Athens International (ATH) — the road trip to Kalamata takes 2h45 and is worth every turn.

Pro tip: Choose a window on the left flying into Kalamata — the Taygetus mountains and olive plains announce themselves like a fresco..

Ferry access: Ferries to Hydra, Spetses and Milos depart from Piraeus Port, just 45 minutes from Athens city centre. For Milos, opt for the SeaJets Champion Jet 2 — comfortable, fast, and more stable on open water.

Future Frame: For The Global Citizen

Travel with a lighter footprint:

Choose Blue Star Ferries over faster hydrofoils for a lower-emissions sea crossing.

Offset flights via trusted partners like MyClimate or Gold Standard.

Stay at properties with verifiable sustainability practices — Kyrimai is a member of the Historic Hotels of Europe with local sourcing policies.

Support small tavernas and independent hotels like Pension Efie, where hospitality sustains heritage, not just holidays.

Conservation in context:

Hydra and Milos are part of the Natura 2000 network — protected marine and land habitats. Respect no-anchor zones, support local wildlife NGOs.

The Stavros Niarchos Foundation Cultural Center in Athens is a model of green architecture, renewable energy and biodiversity — a must-visit for the future-minded traveller.

Filed on location for Room With A View. With thanks to the Greek National Tourist Board (GNTB)