Looking out from an expansive pool suite deck at Fouquet’s Mykonos—the just-opened hotel from the word-of-mouth favorite Barrière Collection, out of Paris—the scene is euphoric.
The Mediterranean sun, at its apex, burns as white as the signature paint that coats most Mykonian homes. Swimmers stretch out (or dance) atop a rock in the middle of a small cove, which is notched from the Aegean coastline like a fish bite. Mixes or overlaps of songs—I heard “Waka Waka” by Shakira, “Jamaican (Bam Bam)” by Hugel and “Ma Tnsani (Yalla Habibi)” by Vanco featuring Aya all at the same time—rise from the clubs along the shoreline here, which is called Paraga Beach. Once the sunlight slides a bit, strobes flash through the gloaming from the world-famous venue Scorpios, directly across the water. It all looks and sounds like so much fun that I have to tell myself: you’re pushing 40, pace yourself.
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Photo: Patrick Messina
The nice thing though, in this pool suite, is that the moment you close the doors, the noise vanishes and you’re left in a room of quiet stone, green and earth-toned textures and giant but comfortable proportions; the soundproofing is top-notch, the air is naturally cool and it’s easy to slip into a more relaxed and leisurely Mykonian verve. Over my three-night stay, I came to understand that this is what Fouquet’s Mykonos’s primary selling point is: it’s as much a place to base yourself for the famed hedonism of the island as it is a perch to park, indulge in the rays, and take in the rugged, unusual beauty of the Cyclades Islands. All, really, without needing to leave.
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Photo: Patrick Messina
