Kove Mykonos

Kove Mykonos is the kind of place where you feel your shoulders drop as soon as you're handed an icy strawberry lemonade – which can be spiked with alcohol if you can handle afternoon drinking better than Mr Smith and I.

We’re given a short tour around the hotel; a warren of white. We quickly learn that white is the colour of Mykonos; that famous Cycladic-island white that all the churches are painted in out here. In fact, I don't recall seeing anything other than little white sugar cube buildings on our journey – perhaps it's law? Colour comes courtesy of the bold blue sky, pink bougainvillaea and leafy green fig trees on every corner.

Kove Mykonos mixes its white with natural elements – stone, wicker, wood – and there are Instagram-friendly shots around every corner as a result. Enviously effortless interiors that mix an industrial aesthetic with island-cave chic. 

Elena, our host, jokes that there are as many corridors in Kove Mykonos as you'll find alleys in the old town of Chora (a must-visit, by the way) but you'll always find your way out eventually.

In this case, we find our way to the pool area. Surrounded by olive trees and lavender, both the pool and Jacuzzi are carved out of stone. They sit looking out across Ornos bay and it's azure water below. There are white sun-loungers and plump daybeds to sink into, and I could mention the gym, yoga deck and personal trainers we passed on our way round but there’s no room for exercise on any holiday of mine.

Our suite, room 203, is cavernous. 'When was the last time we had a room this impressive?' I exclaimed to Mr Smith as we jumped around in excitement. A freestanding roll-top bath (white, of course) sits against the whitewashed stone walls. Hermés toiletries are next to the bathroom sink, the deepest butler-style sink we've ever seen. This is all lovely, of course, but sometimes it's the little things that stand out most. Like the two sets of robes each (both waffle and fluffy depending what you’re in the mood for) or the edible flowers on our welcome fruit platter.

Kove knows how to play it seriously cool, too. With the touch of a button we can have their curated Spotify playlist on loudspeaker through one of two huge TVs. And there's no room guide, instead a (white) iPad acts as a clever online concierge to the island in which you can choose to get tailored tips to live either as a cosmopolitan or as a local. 

Mr Smith admires the skilful plasterwork of the lights in the cave ceiling (as you do) while I’m distracted by the view out to our private plunge pool and wicker hanging egg chair swinging in the breeze. We have complete privacy, we only birds to spy on us. Bliss. Until I get the biggest fright of my life as the pool guy hops over the wall without warning, anyway. It might be worth mentioning this to the hotel if you’re into skinny dipping…

When you’ve got it this good it can be hard to leave, but Ornos beach is only a five-minute saunter down the hill, with its sparkly waters and boats bobbing around. Mr Smith remarks that the sea is the clearest he's ever seen, and that's a strong accolade after honeymooning in the Maldives.

This isn't a sleepy little cove; Mykonos is known for being a party island and Ornos definitely buzzes. Buy lunch at any of its restaurants and you get use of the beach sunloungers it turns out – I like to judge a holiday destination on the thickness of the loungers and these are off the scale.

We spend most of our time lazily relaxing in the sun on our terrace, away from the beach tunes. But one afternoon, when the heat of the day set in, we head to the spa. Our booking includes a welcome massage each which we extend into a full couples massage. We’re pummelled and stretched in the treatment room and then get steamy in the hammam (complete with gold leaf in the walls, no less). We emerge into the light like Greek deities, practically floating back to our room. In most places it takes a few days to wind down, here Mr Smith and have reached dream-like nirvana in an afternoon. 

Waking from the best slumber in ages, under the highest thread-count bedding known to man, it’s time for breakfast. We devour the lot: Greek yogurt topped with three different types of honey, compotes, eggs, croissants and artfully displayed cold cuts. ’Calories don’t count on holiday’ I assure Mr Smith, reaching for just one more mini pain au chocolat.  

The evening is just as enchanting. As the sun dips down, soft jazz plays, candles flicker, a fire pit burns and the pool lights up like a sky of shooting stars. If that all sounds ridiculously romantic, rest assured Kove remains hip enough for this not to get mushy.

It takes us a while to appreciate the meaning of the Japanese word behind the hotel’s name: enlightenment in nature. But after a couple of nights I turn to Mr Smith pleased as punch that I finally get it: earth, water, wind and fire, just like those Ancient Greeks believed in, they’re all here at Kove. We leave feeling very enlightened indeed. Just maybe less of the wind next time – you need to hold onto your hat on this island…