Aegean Cliff Retreat

Arrival is at the top, where vehicles stop and the sea is withheld. The descent is the experience. Roughly thirty keys are distributed across seven terraces, thinning as the slope steepens, so density falls as the view widens. Shared program — reception, a small taverna, a spa and a single lap of pool at the water's edge — is spaced along the spine at the points where the terrain naturally levels. Nothing crowns the ridge. The tallest built element sits below the natural skyline, so the resort is quiet from the sea and quiet from the village above.

The plan is disciplined about what it leaves alone. Existing dry-stone field walls are surveyed and kept where they can be kept; new retaining walls continue their line and their material. Between the volumes, the slope is planted back — not landscaped into a garden, but returned to the low, mineral scrub the island already carries.

Each guest volume is a simple prism with one considered opening. Windows are framed views, not glass walls — proportioned to hold the horizon at eye level from the bed, deep enough that the reveal shades the interior through the middle of the day. Where a terrace allows, the room extends into a courtyard: a walled outdoor room, part shade under a timber pergola, part open to the sky, private from the terrace above by the geometry of the section rather than by screens.

Circulation is external and generous. The spine is a sequence of stairs, landings and framed apertures — a walk that reveals the sea in fragments and withholds it until the lowest terrace. Colour is rationed to the materials themselves: white, stone, the grey of weathered timber, the single teal of shaded water. Light does the rest. In the Aegean it arrives hard and low; the building is detailed to catch it on a wall, throw it into a courtyard, and give the interior the calm, mineral shade the climate rewards.

Above the retaining line, the guest volumes are light. A stepped structural grid follows the terracing, so loads travel down through short, stacked bays instead of long transfers — the section works with gravity, not against it. Reinforced concrete does the heavy, ground-engaged work; lighter framing and prefabricated elements are considered for the volumes above, to reduce crane reach on a constrained cliff site and to shorten the wet trades in a marine environment.

Detailing is corrosion-aware throughout. Salt air and intermittent water are treated as design loads: cover, mix design, drainage and material selection are set for an exposed coastal condition, not a mainland one. Seismic and wind actions are carried by the retaining and terrace structure acting together, checked to the governing local code. The studio's own steel-and-Tekla experience on long-span industrial buildings informs the lighter, buildable framing above; its public-building work informs the rigour expected below ground.

Servicing runs in the spine. MEP is coordinated into the stepped section so that risers and horizontal runs follow the circulation, keeping the guest volumes clean and the terraces free of visible plant. Wastewater is treated on site; STP and desalination plant are coordinated early, sized and located below the arrival level where they can be maintained without crossing guest routes. Cooling leans first on the building: thermal mass, deep reveals, cross-ventilation through the courtyards and shaded pergolas, so mechanical cooling is a supplement, not the strategy. Photovoltaic capacity is studied on the least-visible roofs and the arrival structure.

The structural model carries through to Tekla for the framed and prefabricated elements, so what is detailed is what is fabricated. Documentation is construction-oriented: setting-out driven by the model, terrace-by-terrace, so a constrained cliff site can be sequenced from the top down with the retaining works leading and the volumes following. For an international project the model is the shared language — the artefact that lets a Romanian design team and local consultants work to one geometry across a distance.