I never want to be far from a swim, so I was pleased to know there was access to a private cove just a short walk beyond the winding path in front of our room. Stairs built into a cliff led right to the rocks; no beach beds in sight, just a sun-warmed stone platform to lay your towel next to a ladder directly into the sea.
We were told the space was shared with guests from the neighbouring lodges, but no one came. We felt lucky to have it all to ourselves, so I devoured a book and listened to the ambient sounds of the waves knocking the rocks for hours on end. I nodded off watching sailboats meander by. Later, we climbed the stairs back to the room, sticky from the sea salt, and I headed straight for the outdoor shower, leaning my head up to the open blue sky, as I washed off the salt in my hair. Wrapped up in a towel, hair dripping wet, I do as everyone does on their holidays: make a beeline for a chair to dry in fresh air, swapping the classic balcony-and-bag-of-Lays for a chair on a cliff, a sea view and a crisp glass of local Greek wine. The southern side of the island is known for its sunsets, and it’s easy to see why. At first, I don’t focus on the sky; instead, I focus on the changing colours of the plants and herbs, which light up and glow like little orbs. Browns turn to gold as they catch the light, and the sky turns pink as we walk back to our room with empty glasses. We don’t want to leave the room, and thankfully we don’t have to. Nausika tells us that a nearby taverna can deliver dinner. We lit candles and settled into our outdoor kitchen.
In the morning, a breakfast basket arrived at our door – an additional cost but one worth every penny. I dig through my haul of fresh, local goods: the Greek yoghurt I had hoped for, fat juicy strawberries, peaches, homemade jam, boiled eggs and freshly squeezed juice. Checking out was bittersweet, but as we followed the island’s rocky roads, we felt sure we’d be back soon.