Hideout Suites

Hideout Suites climbs a steep hillside above Mylopotas, and when GFRA architecture added eight suites to it in 2018, the idea was to hide most of them, which in a hotel called Hideout counts as keeping to the brief. The disguise is local: white cubes, and the stone retaining walls of the island's terraces. Some suites are white boxes, with bed and sofa in one open room; the stone-faced ones run in a line, with the bedroom kept apart. Timber pergolas over the terraces give shade, and keep each suite out of its neighbour's sight. Inside, much of the furniture is built in, and in one bedroom a pink bed stands in a black frame, with glass doors sliding back onto a stone terrace.

There are twelve suites and five villas now, and each has a pool of its own. We had a Deluxe Suite, as a couple, for three nights in late September, with the sea below our pool and the late summer sun on it: three days of the best kind, spent getting in and out of that pool, which is about as relaxing as a holiday gets. There is a lot of shade round it, more than we needed so late in the season; at the height of summer it would probably be very welcome. Breakfast was in our rate, and each morning the hotel brought it to the suite. The breakfast itself was nothing special; having it brought to our own poolside was the good part. We would go back. Families can come too: the Grand Suite sleeps up to six and there is a two-bedroom villa, though there is no kids' club, and a hillside this steep means steps.

The beach is 150 metres below, about five minutes on foot: Mylopotas, a kilometre of sand with clear water and a reputation for nightlife, and restaurants and bars along it 200 metres from the door. There is no restaurant at Hideout itself, so dinner comes to the guests: from three until nine an à la carte menu is brought to the suite's veranda, along with sushi from Farout Village Restaurant nearby. For a day further out, the hotel's own 11.2-metre motorboat goes on private charter to the bays of Manganari and Koumbara, stopping to swim along the way. Chora, the whitewashed town on the hill, is 1.5 kilometres off, and the hotel sends guests up to the monastery of Panayia Gremiotissa, at its highest point, for the sunset.

Down on Mylopotas, some of the restaurants are a little try-hard, dressed up as Mykonos, and the more rustic ones were the ones that stood out. The one we remember is at the end of the beach, and we remember its terrace better than its name. It stands out over the sea, and by evening the waves were lapping at its edge.