Open the door and you step out among the lemon and orange trees, where the air carries citrus and warm stone and, when the breeze turns, a thread of salt from the cove below. Flagstone underfoot keeps the room cool through the heat of the afternoon, the light soft and green where it filters through the leaves. A bed dressed in washed linen, a few good books, a chair set by the open shutters — the garden is never more than an arm's length away.

Mornings begin with coffee carried out to your own corner of the terrace, the trees still cool, the gulls working the water. By evening the stone gives back the day's warmth and the citrus deepens. Ground-floor ease, a little privacy among the planting, and the restaurant and pool a short walk through the gardens.