Why ‘Alice Inn’? ‘Alice’ was my grandmother’s name.
We do not know if on his mother’s or father’s side, but we do know that his parents met many years ago in an Athenian square, and that hospitality is a family tradition. John has watery green and grey eyes, Greek and Irish blood, a degree in architecture, and an instinct for beautiful things. Alice Inn is his bed and breakfast in a quiet street of Plaka neighbourhood, Athens. When you get to Tsatsou Street, you cannot be mistaken. Ring the bell under the ‘A’ painted on the wall. Old stairs creaking politely at every step; on the right, an old robot at the kitchen’s entrance; on the left, the living room, where you will discover a courtyard with blue-waves floor and a camouflage canvas roof that protects your breakfast against the burning Greek summer sun. A stack of vintage trunks, maps on the wall, a sailing boat on a grey bookcase, wide-open windows framing the plays of light and shadow on the green main door opposite. Living in this Athenian building will make you reflect about the pricelessness of a homemade cake, of an outdoor break in a courtyard full of memories, and of a few sweet words with guests passing by. Of the perfect crude light flooding the room during the afternoon rest. The pricelessness of being advised by someone who knows the Athens you are looking for and has a sensibility akin to yours. The pricelessness of feeling at home.
Words and photos Laura Taccari. Translation Alessia Andriolo. Thanks to John Consolas and Andria Mitsakos.