The Palolem Heights house at dusk, every balcony lit, palms either side

The house

A white house on the green rise behind the beach.

Ten suites, one pool, a kitchen in every room and a family that runs it. This is what you are booking.

The reception at Palolem Heights — a white desk, a window onto the garden, a host at work

Arriving

A front desk, and a person behind it.

Come up the drive, past the palms in pots, and the glass door opens onto a small bright reception with a window on the garden. Check-in runs from noon until eleven at night.

Arriving late from the airport? Send us your time on WhatsApp so someone is ready for you.

The private stone-clad pool at Palolem Heights, lamplit under its timber ceiling

The pool

Stone walls, a timber roof, nobody you don't know.

The pool sits inside the house — stone-clad walls, a pebble border, a timber ceiling that keeps the sun off at noon and holds the lamplight at night. It is used only by guests, which in practice means you will often have it to yourself.

In season we light it in the evenings. It is not heated and never needs to be.

A suite kitchenette at Palolem Heights — counter and sink under a window onto the trees, dining table beside it

The kitchenettes

A hob, a fridge, a table. The difference between a room and a stay.

Every suite has a kitchenette along one wall: hob, kettle, sink, fridge, cupboards with the basics, and a dining table to eat at. Guests use it for breakfast eggs, midnight chai, the mangoes from Chaudi market and the prawns they bought off the boat.

It is why people stay a fortnight here rather than three nights. A week in a room is a visit; a week with a kitchen is a life.

Breakfast

Continental, included, made when you wake.

Toast, eggs the way you like them, fruit, tea and coffee — brought when you are actually up, not at a fixed hour. It is simple on purpose; the beach shacks do the big lunches.