Every door here carries a name.

In Greek myth a god begins as a name and gathers a figure around it. The house took that as its plan: instead of numbers, every door carries an etched plate with a name of its own, and the rooms behind them are cut in a single register — lime plaster, honey limestone laid in rubble, pine beams, cane shades, oak.

The crest on the plates and above the reception desk is the same drawing both times: a chariot inside a ring of Greek key, in green. Statues are painted full height on the walls of some rooms, and there is a neon script by the stair that says what the place calls itself.

Most beds stand in a recess of textured white plaster, lit from behind, under a run of pine beams; one wall of the room is usually left as bare honey limestone. Rooms have air conditioning and heating, a flat-screen television with satellite channels, a kettle and a tea and coffee tray, a refrigerator, a wardrobe, a safe, a mosquito net and a private bathroom with a hairdryer, free toiletries, slippers and towels. They are soundproofed and non-smoking, and WiFi is free everywhere on the property.

Aspect is what separates one from another: some balconies face the water over the parasols, one type faces the castle on its ridge, and the largest of them is the junior suite. One room has a spa bath set into the window wall.

The pool is outdoor and seasonal, free to use and open to all ages, with a shallow end, a fence around it and towels for the pool and the beach. It sits on crazy paving between a drystone wall and a whitewashed screen pierced by four round-headed niches, with loungers, deck chairs and fringed parasols along both sides.

Livadhi Beach is on the other side of the road, and the hotel keeps a private beach area on it with sun loungers for guests. There is a sun deck, a terrace and a garden; bicycles can be hired, and there are water-sports facilities on site, both at an extra charge.