I don’t know about you, but for the first time in my life I’m more than happy to welcome winter. After a wonderfully chaotic summer full of festivals, fashion week and a dizzying number of weddings, I’m more than ready to tuck myself into hibernation mode for a while. My almost empty batteries, however, were running dangerously low, so I decided a few days of R&R in a sunny place would serve as a closing ceremony for the season, one last sun-drenched exhale before the cold sets in.
Four hours after watching the twinkling nighttime lights of London glow and disappear beneath the clouds, we landed in Larnaca, Cyprus. The warmth hit us instantly. By the time we reached Cavo Zoe Seaside Hotel, the change in pace was already noticeable. We opened the door to our room and were met with a sweeping view of the sparkling ocean and a jar of mini macaroons on the table. It felt like an immediate welcome. From our balcony we could see a small white church at the edge of the hotel grounds, positioned right where the rocks meet the water. Over the next few days it became a little marker in the landscape.
The next morning we woke to bright sun and a sea so clear it almost didn’t look real. Light bounced off the water in sharp, clean reflections, and the sound of small waves meeting the rocks reached us as we opened the balcony doors. After breakfast we had a couples deep-tissue massage with lavender, mandarin and lemongrass oils. It was a slow, grounded start to the day and shifted everything into a calmer gear. Later, from our balcony, we watched a wedding taking place at the church below. Guests gathered along the pathway and the bride walked toward the entrance with the sea behind her, in all her angelic glory.
The room quickly became a comfortable place to return to. It was modern and simple, with clean lines and muted tones that didn’t compete with the sea outside. Everything was straightforward and easy to use, from the lighting to the storage to the fully opening balcony doors. When those doors were open the whole room breathed, filling with warm air and the steady sound of water. We often ended our days on that balcony, towels still around us after a swim, while the sky shifted through soft pastel colours that stretched slowly across the horizon. The sunsets arrived gently and changed the light to make everything around us seem tranquil.
Dolce, the hotel’s restaurant, became our regular spot. Breakfasts were slow and usually involved fresh fruit, pastries, eggs and strong coffee. The terrace overlooked the sea, and we often ended up sitting there longer than intended, watching people head down to the water or wandering the grounds. Evenings at Dolce were relaxed, with a menu built around simple Mediterranean dishes. We ate grilled fish, seasonal vegetables and salads that tasted bright and fresh. Most evenings drifted on quietly, dinner easing into the softer light of the coastline as the day wound down.
One afternoon we followed the path along the rocks and found a small sandy lagoon just beyond the hotel. The water was bright and clear, drifting between shades of blue as the light moved. We swam for a while and sat on the sand before heading back, feeling like we’d stumbled on a secret little spot along the coast.
The rest of the hotel felt easy to be in. The pool area was quiet, with plenty of room to spread out, and the staff were helpful in a relaxed, unfussy way. Getting a cocktail or asking about nearby spots to swim was simple, and the slow pace of the days made it beautifully easy to switch off.
The room remained a steady backdrop to all of this. The way the light moved through the space changed its atmosphere from hour to hour. In the mornings it felt bright and open, and by late afternoon everything had a softer tone. It was cool, comfortable and always ready to come back to after swimming or walking along the coast. On one of the warmer days we spent a few quiet hours inside with the balcony open, reading and letting the breeze drift through, which felt as peaceful as being outside.
By the end of our stay my whole perspective had shifted. The rushed pace of my London summer felt distant, almost like something I had watched rather than lived. Cavo Zoe doesn’t push activity or structure on you. It gives you space, light, warm water, good food and a sense of stillness that builds naturally. The days shaped themselves, there was no pressure to achieve anything, and no sense of needing to make the most of every moment.
As a farewell to summer it felt perfect. As a way to prepare for winter it felt even better. I arrived tired, overstretched and slightly out of step with myself. I left rested, clear-headed and ready for the quieter months ahead. A few days at Cavo Zoe didn’t promise transformation, but it provided something much more useful: a pause. And that was exactly what I needed.
To find out more visit www.cavozoe.com.
Words by Ama Samra
