Old-World Soul 

A grand dame of Sicilian hotels on the romantic Bay of Mazzarò.  

Anyone with money can build a luxury hotel and fill it with every conceivable comfort. But hotels with a 100-plus-year history as a family home, which also offer flawless service and gorgeous location, are a dwindling commodity.  

So it is with the Villa Sant’Andrea, a Belmond Hotel, a grand dame of Sicilian hotels on the romantic Bay of Mazzarò, the base of the hilltop town of Taormina, whose rich story starts in the late 1800’s. 

It was then that Cornish civil engineer Robert Trewhella was hired by the Italian government to help build the Circumetnea railway. While in Sicily he found love, both with his future wife, an English woman, as well as Taormina’s craggy Bay of Mazzarò. He and his wife began building a beautiful beachfront villa, which their son, Alfred Percy, finished in 1919, calling it after Capo Sant’Andrea, a cape in the turquoise bay. The villa was expanded with a shady terraced garden planted with fragranced Mediterranean shrubs and trees, which are still there today. The house was gradually filled with antiques and oil paintings and became a leisurely family hideaway.  

After the Second World War (during which time the villa was requisitioned as an officer’s mess), the family turned the villa into a small hotel in the 1950s. Having passed to Percy’s grandson Richard Manley, the retreat began to attract Sicily’s well-heeled, as well as hosting actors during the Taormina film festival, such as Elizabeth Taylor, Richard Burton and Peter O’Toole. Later, Francis Ford Coppola requested for the cast of The Godfather to stay for six weeks while certain scenes were filmed, then returned for the sequel and the trequel, including Al Pacino and Robert De Niro.  

A century later and Villa Sant’ Andrea is now owned by Belmond, the exclusive hospitality brand within LVMH group. But it still retains the sense of an intimate, luxurious family residence. Hallways of cool, creamy blonde marble, lit by Moorish sconces, wind around courtyards planted with miniature mandarin trees. Staircases leading to hidden salons, terraces and doorways onto the beach or the heated outdoor pool. Rattan and banana palms chime with antique writing desks, grandfather clocks and age-spotted prints of oranges and lemons, along with the occasional ubiquitous ceramic Moorish head and Sicilian pinecone.  

A variety of art, as would befit a collector-connoisseur with an eclectic taste, decorates the walls. We are amused to find the classic Matisse print in our bedroom doubles as the secret door to the safe, and swings open when gently pulled.  

One cannot mention Taormina in today’s day and age without referencing the White Lotus Effect; the cult Netflix documentary partly filmed at the nearby Four Seasons hotel in Taormina, which has brought even more tourists flocking to the island. The staff agree that the uptick in guests has been noticeable; but here, with just 67 rooms, the hotel never feels too crowded.   

Any seasoned hotel-goer will agree, it is the small details that mark the difference between a great hotel and a brilliant one. Such are my thoughts when I look for the hairdryer. To my delight, a brand-new Dyson, the Rolls-Royce of hairdryers, is tucked into a drawer, guaranteeing a good hair day. Ruinart is the house Champagne and a chilled bottle duly shows up at our door shortly after check-in, complete with the appropriate long-stemmed tulip-shaped glasses in which this excellent blanc-de-blancs should only be sipped. Bath and shower mats are so often overlooked in hotels. But here they are so softly plush, you leave deep footprints in them as if they were woven from snow.  

The service at the Belmond Villa Sant’Andrea is equally flawless, down to the attention of the staff cleaning the room, who seem to have not only a sixth sense but an invisible omnipresence. I find a pretty bookmark inserted into my novel at the page I had finished reading, to save the spine from becoming splayed. No sooner have I dropped my damp bikini on the floor after a lunchtime swim, then is it carefully hung over the bath ready for tomorrow’s beach trip. Returning from dinner, my pyjamas are lovingly arranged on my pillow (these are marshmallow-plump, perfect for resting a weary head after a day’s hike up to the mountain village, Castelmola). 

On the breakfast terrace, terracotta-potted red geraniums pop against the bright cornflower sea below. Sensationally smooth dark coffee is poured from a swan-necked pot into bone china. I reflect on the menu, which includes the Sicilian breakfast: granita (a cross between sorbet and ice-cream) served with whipped cream, Sicilian brioche and almonds from Noto, in chocolate, lemon, pistachio or strawberry flavour.  

But after last night’s indulgent dinner at the restaurant here, which culminated in a plate of creamy tiramisu, I feel the need to opt for something more sensible. I order a delicious frittata of goat cheese and courgette flowers with a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice, as I bask in the sunshine. 

On the flight back to the UK with a forecast of rain and wind, and an in-flight sandwich for company, I deeply regret my modest decision at breakfast.  

Still, it’s always good to have a reason to return.    

This article appeared in Billionaire's Impact Issue. To subscribe, click here.