Heading To Greece This Summer? There's A Name You Need To Know

If your summer plans involve zigzagging across Greece to capture six months’ worth of “take me back” content, you’ll want to make a new entry in your little black book: Domes, a lifestyle and hospitality group rapidly becoming the byword for unpretentious luxury in the Mediterranean, even if they do boast the highest-glam “glamping,” a rare members club, fine dining, and a Jackie O. connection.

One of Domes’ greatest strengths is their keen eye for location, location, location. That much was evident when, after a not-overly-long car ride from the airport, I was deposited at 91 Athens Riviera, The Resort, which might as well have been on another planet for its otherworldly tranquility. The hemispherical cabanas rose up around a raised reflective pond landscaped with tall grasses and gravel paths connecting the deceptively spare spa and gym, as well as the only members club in the capital. In Athens’ old city, Domes’ Michelin-starred restaurant Makris offers the least tourist-y views of the Acropolis a tourist could ask for, along with a rest-of-the-tasting-menu-eclipsing mushroom soup — and an ancient surprise on the lower level. (It’s worth mentioning that, at 91, they’ve brought Paros to the Athens Riviera with an outpost of Barbarossa, also known as the apocryphal birthplace of napkin-waving.) Continuing on my whistle-stop tour as a guest of the brand, I further observed their talent for acquiring historical properties at Domes Miramare Corfu, a ‘60s-swanky former Onassis residence where the lawn rolls right into the sea, much like its Luxury Collection sister in Honolulu.

But what use is prime real estate if you don’t set it off to its best advantage? Across the Domes portfolio, the unifying theme is good taste, displayed without much fuss, which is immediately obvious in the nautical-safari design of the tents at 91; the floor-to-canopy sheer drapes around the massive bed made for a soigné Zoom background when I interviewed Celine Song. (Though I’m not sure enough women were involved in the decision to place the toilet and sink in different time zones.) At Miramare, the interiors are shipping-tycoon cool, warmed up with splashy art and textiles — and the hotel’s beloved cats sprawled out under a chessboard table or loafing on the porch swing in the lobby.

Service throughout was pervasive but never rushed; my private whirlpool at 91 was cleaned daily like magic, and I can’t say I wasn’t pleased when Augustinus Bader samples materialized in my room — which was already supplied with Naxos Apothecary toiletries and Korres sunscreen — after one turndown service. (Miramare has the requisite-but-always-welcome Byredo Le Chemin on the double vanities.) The sales associate at Algari’s Neema boutique in Paxos was also very accommodating when I burst in like the Kool-Aid Man after my sunglasses were sacrificed to the Ionian.

And yet my most pronounced impression of Domes is the feeling of near-complete serenity (I say this as someone whose factory setting is “demon mode”). The sea and the nature and the freddo espressos can be held accountable, but it’s also being able to enjoy them in environments built to encourage relaxation. It’s waking up to the gently sloped walls of a high-ceilinged cabana that are so unlike the landlord-special-ed ones you work and sleep and live between. It’s going to the beach or the pool or the other pool or the members club or the sushi restaurant — and never seeing too many people. It’s what’s largely missing from the post-COVID hellscape that is Perpetual Euro Summer.

No one said it would come cheap, but at Domes, it’s well worth it to be reminded of why we travel: to see and experience new things, yes, but sometimes more so to find the peace and comfort we don’t have at home.