Where the Athenian Riviera remembers its aristocratic summer.
Pine-shaded terraces descend to a private beach on the Glyfada coast, half an hour from the Acropolis but a long way from it in spirit. This is the Athenian Riviera as the jet set knew it in the fifties, rebuilt rather than imitated: low pavilions of pale timber and native stone, opening straight onto the Saronic Gulf. The scent is salt and pine, the currency is discretion.
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