Entrance Είσοδος
A microcement hall with the wardrobe and the kitchenette to hand. The room opens out past it.

We've grouped the photographs by where you'd actually stand — at the door, the bed, the kitchenette counter, the bath, the veranda. Tap any photo to enlarge; arrows or your keyboard will walk you through the rest.
A microcement hall with the wardrobe and the kitchenette to hand. The room opens out past it.
A double against a woven-rattan headboard, reading lights set into the wall, a sofa-bed close by.
A sofa that doubles as a second bed. In the two-room categories, a sitting room of its own.
A small kitchen of your own — induction, a sink, a shelf of cups. Enough for a coffee and a late supper.
Microcement and terrazzo, a vessel basin, brass and matte black, a walk-in rain shower. The same bath language across the building.
Tall doors to a balcony or veranda — a chair, the morning, bougainvillea over the rail.
We've kept the description short on rates and long on what's actually here — what the bed feels like, where the morning light falls, what's on the table when you arrive. The rest is for you to find.

We settled the headboard before anything else. This one stayed.
A double bed against a full panel of woven rattan, an oak frame, olive linen heavier than hotel-grade. A reading light set into the wall on each side, and a sofa-bed a few steps away for a third guest or a child.
White microcement on the walls, a floating oak shelf, brass and matte black for the small metal things. Quiet, warm, and easy to keep cool.

A bath you can move in. We chose the stone before the fittings.
A vessel basin on terrazzo, a black-framed mirror, fluted-glass sconces and a walk-in rain shower behind glass. Matte-black taps, microcement walls, the same calm palette as the room.
Big, fluffy towels, fresh daily. Soap and oil refilled, not replaced.

No minibar. A kitchenette, so you needn't ask.
A compact kitchenette — an induction hob, a sink, a shelf of cups and glasses, a kettle. Enough to make your own coffee, keep something cold, put together a late supper after the tavernas close.
We don't serve food ourselves. We do point you to it: Compass, about seven minutes down for breakfast; the tavernas of Agia Marina and Perdika for dinner.

Still at sunrise. Bright by four. Quiet again by ten.
Up on the hill above Agia Marina, the residence is wrapped in trees and bougainvillea. Tall doors open to a balcony — the higher rooms take in the sea, the garden rooms the green. Mornings are still; the afternoon comes in warm and low.
Quiet hours run from ten. It has been the rule since we opened, and so far no one has had to be told twice.
Two rooms, side by side. The Suite and the Superior differ in space and in how high up the sea you want to be. Most guests pick by what they want their afternoon to look like.
This roomOlive linen, a woven headboard, a kitchenette of its own.
CompareMore room, two spaces of its own, and the sea in the window.
A few things we'd send you to do on Aegina — the temple, the water, the pistachio road. Add any of them to your stay before you arrive, or just ask us at the door.

A short drive up to the temple for the last of the light, the ridge after, and back down before dark.

A small caïque to a quiet cove for a swim and a coffee, away from the August beaches.

Aegina's pistachio groves and the makers who roast them — a tasting, a bag to take home.