8 November 14, 2021The Sunday TimesTravel Mediterranean
blokes flanked by pneumatic
eastern European women.
Kids nonchalantly scroll on
iPads as they sip alcohol-free
cocktails on sunloungers.
Many shamble around in
tracksuits that look as if
they’ve come from Primark
but probably cost several
thousands of pounds.
If it all sounds a bit
brash, a bit obnoxious,
the effect is somehow
more tolerable in the
flesh. People-watching
is part of the fun at D
Maris Bay — and fun is
the operative word for
this big, bold and
colourful hideaway. Thereare little touches that surprise
and delight: on the first night,
we’re directed to the “lift”
down to D Maris Kitchen and
the beach. We step in and gasp
as it sets off: it turns out to be
an Alpine-style funicular that
moves sideways, maximising
the epic view.
After three nights, we prise
ourselves away from the
luxury and throw our bags
into the back of a taxi for a
two-hour drive along the
coast to D Maris Bay’s more
affordable sister hotel.
D-Resort sits on the edge of
a small town called Gocek,
which curves around a
bustling marina. Here the
yachts are smaller and the
restaurants more modest.
We are shown to our
room — a simple, white
affair backing onto the
pool — then hop
straight into a golf
buggy to explore.
The sandy beach,
with turquoise water
and darting silver fish,
is a five-minute ride
away. For dinner we
hike up to Q Lounge,Left, the pool at D-Resort;
ruins at Patara. Right, the
Patara coastline. Below, D
Maris Bay’s motor yachtpowerful you can almost spray
the hangover out of yourself.
To make extra sure, before
heading to the beach we delve
into the hotel’s cavernous spa
and treat ourselves to hour-
long massages, emerging with
knotless backs and near-zero
cortisol levels.
The guests will be familiar
to anyone who has spent time
in hotels around Hyde Park in
London. There are chubby
young blokes who look like
trainee Middle Eastern
dictators cutting their teeth
on starter opulence before
graduating to the Hotel Bel-Air
in LA or Le Bristol in Paris.
There are cadaverous oldyanking up reluctant Insta-
damsels from their seats and
twirling them around. There’s
a great massacre of china,
entire stacks reduced to
fragments in seconds.
Soporific, sated and a touch
unsettled, we slip away at 1am,
crunching through white
shards as we make our way to
the water taxi. When we swing
past Manos the next day, the
maître d’ wearily says that the
party went on until 4am.
Luckily, D Maris Bay’s 195
rooms are comfortable
sanctuaries for recovery. Our
deluxe number comes with its
own hot tub and a shower so→Continued from page 7