Experience a Stay at the Greek Villa of One of History's Most Cherished Travel Writers

One reason I travel is to explore lives beyond my own or to envision my life in captivating new environments. The thrill of trying on someone else's existence was never more palpable than during my stay at the Patrick & Joan Leigh Fermor House (villas starting at $600, three-night minimum). This sun-drenched stone haven overlooks a turquoise cove near the Greek village of Kardamyli, situated in the Mani, one of the three 'fingers' of the Peloponnese peninsula that extends from the mainland.

For many years, this enchanting spot was home to Patrick Leigh Fermor, one of Britain's most celebrated travel writers, and his vibrant wife, Joan. Known as "Paddy," the late author is perhaps best known for A Time of Gifts, chronicling his youthful journey across Europe in the 1930s. After becoming a World War II hero by orchestrating the kidnapping of a Nazi general in Crete, Leigh Fermor spent his postwar years wandering, sailing, and hitchhiking through Greece—adventures that inspired his later works Mani and Roumeli. Joan frequently accompanied him, leaving her British high-society life behind for this sunlit coastal paradise.

Paddy had long envisioned a Greek retreat where he could read, write, and host friends like British poet laureate John Betjeman and modernist painter Nikos Ghika. Joan's only wish was for a spot to watch the sunset. While hiking the Taygetos mountains in 1962, they discovered Kardamyli and chose to build a home just outside the village—financed by Joan selling jewelry she inherited from her aristocratic family. In a later Greek television interview, Paddy reflected, "all these wild mountains, the olives, the water, and the islands; this would be an ideal place to live."

As someone who dreams of making Greece my forever home, my husband and I were inspired to visit the house during a recent road trip through the Peloponnese. I soon realized that if I had jewels worthy of Joan, I’d trade them all for this retreat. It’s a writer's paradise: the dining room features shelves filled with books, allowing Paddy to easily respond to questions during meals. Along the long staircase leading to the sea, stone benches were carved out for him to pause and write. While sitting under Joan's sunset-viewing pergola, I spotted a paw-print mosaic beneath my feet—a tribute to her love of cats.

In 1996, the Leigh Fermors arranged to bequeath their house to the Benaki Museum in Athens, specifying that it be used as a retreat for writers and artists for nine months of the year, and operated as a hotel from June to August to cover maintenance costs. Joan passed away in 2003, and after Paddy followed in 2011, the Benaki enlisted Aria Hotels—a Greek company celebrated for its atmospheric and historic properties—to manage the hosting duties.

Last year, the house reopened as a unique blend of artists' colony, boutique inn, and museum. Both the Benaki and Aria have ensured it captures the region's beauty and culture. "About the swallow's nest," our concierge Kyriaki Roumpi mentioned upon our arrival, pointing to a mud basket on the arched ceiling. "We've chosen not to remove it." A wise decision, as swallows are regarded as symbols of good fortune in Greece.

Even without its literary ties, this location would be a dream vacation spot. In Old Kardamyli, we strolled through a cluster of 18th-century stone towers where local rulers sought refuge during the Maniot vendettas—centuries of interclan warfare—and later conspired for the Greek Revolution. In the quaint newer village by the sea, we navigated through children playing in the church square, and I popped into a jewelry store to gather evil eye bracelets, recalling Paddy's description in Mani of the "amused tolerance coupled with veneration" locals held for the amulet. "Regardless of truth, these beliefs are ancient and cherished heirlooms."

The couple is still fondly remembered here as Kyrios Michalis ("Mr. Michael," Paddy's code name during his time in Crete) and Kyria Ioanna ("Mrs. Joan"). The locals seem to regard them as family. While dining under the olive trees at Elies (entrées $9–$18), a hotel opposite a beautiful beach just outside town, I learned that Stavros Giannakeas, the owner, grew up in the housekeeper's cottage at the Leigh Fermor house; his mother, Lela, was Paddy and Joan's personal cook before she opened her beloved Kardamyli taverna, Lela's ($11–$14).

The couple's last housekeeper, Elpida Belogianni, now prepares meals for visiting guests. One day, she revealed that Paddy swam daily to the islet across the bay until the age of 94—motivating me to attempt the half-hour swim, pausing in caves that seemed deserted by sea nymphs. At first, I envied his daily routine: waking up, doing some work, swimming, savoring Elpida's extraordinary dishes—like chickpeas vibrant with citrus and cold almond soup with green grapes—then napping, reading, working, and conversing until sunset. "If I lived here," I remarked to my husband, a bit irked, "I could easily hunt Nazis, walk across Europe, or pen award-winning novels, too."

However, after a few days filled with sea foam and sunshine, my jealousy transformed into admiration. The Leigh Fermors achieved a near-universal dream: discovering a place that resonates with your spirit and building a life around it. They not only created their paradise on earth but also crafted a way for others to experience it. In Mani, Paddy reflects, "What wondrous life is this I lead?" After savoring life in the place he cherished most, I share in his amazement.

A version of this story first appeared in the June 2021 issue of Dinogo under the headline Paradise and Prose.