Casale Panayiotis

Kalopanayiotis is a real village, lived in long before it was lovely, and Casale Panayiotis is what happened when one family bought up its emptying stone houses and brought them back rather than building something new on the ridge above. The result is a hotel you walk through like a hamlet. Forty-one rooms and suites sit across seven old houses, each named for the building that holds it, and the lanes between them are the corridors. Walls are bare stone, ceilings are timber, the furniture leans antique without trying too hard, and most windows give onto the Marathasa valley or the tiled roofs falling away towards the Setrachos. Cyprus is mostly read as a coastline. This is the other Cyprus, up in the Troodos pines, cool when the south is baking.

The table

The kitchen keeps to its own ground. Byzantino does Cypriot cooking from old recipes, much of it grown in the hotel's own orchards down the valley, and it is the room to book for a proper dinner. Loutraki is the quieter, more worked-up table, fusion plates in a dining room that nods to the village's copper-mining past, with the valley laid out through the glass. Pantheon handles the easy days with pizza, pasta and a view, and Kava is a small underground wine cellar you can take over for an evening. None of it is showy. It tastes of where it is.

Why it's in VANE

The spa is the village's oldest argument for itself. Kalopanayiotis has drawn people to its sulphur springs since antiquity, and the Myrianthousa spa carries that on with a hydrotherapy pool, a rasul mud chamber and treatment rooms cut into the slope. Across the Setrachos stands the monastery of Agios Ioannis Lampadistis, on the UNESCO list since 1985 for its frescoes, a short walk over the bridge. We like places that could only be where they are, and this is one of them: a working mountain village that learned to keep guests without turning itself into a stage set.

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