Amanzoe is at its best, though, when nothing is happening. A morning spent in the spa. A late-afternoon siesta on the pavilion terrace, the Aegean going gold in the distance, the cypresses motionless, the lavender spent and faintly fragrant. Cocktails on the moon-shaped terrace by the pool, a black velvet sky above. It’s easy to imagine that there is wild magic here, amid all that marble and stone which hold the warmth of the day long after dark, long after the stars are out.

All credit to Ed Tuttle, whose talent lay in staging the improbable. At Amanzoe, he arranged space, material and landscape with such precision that after a day or two, the architecture itself disappears from notice, leaving you standing simply on a hillside in Greece, the marble warm underfoot, the sea catching light – all that light.