Fourteen rooms, no two the same.

Morning comes in low across the water and lands on the oak floor. A writing desk under the window, linen from Biella, and the fishing boats going out at six if you want to watch.

The shutters open onto a stone balcony with a table for two and the whole cape in view. The one guests ask for by name; book it early for June.

Walls half a metre thick keep it cool through August. The original customs-house stone is left bare, with a louvred window onto the lemon garden.

Hand-laid terracotta floors, a woven rug and a lamp you will want to take home. Small, warm and quiet: the room for long novels and afternoon naps.

Our largest room, with its own walled garden and a copper-red bath among the palms. Breakfast is brought to the garden table whenever you ring for it.

An armchair by the French window, a lamp that stays warm into the night and a wall of books chosen by the town bookseller. Rain is welcome here.

A round table in the window, a proper chair and coffee whenever you ask. Booked by writers, translators and anyone with a deadline and a view.

The whole top floor, and a terrace with nothing above it but sky. Sunset from the daybed, a shower open to the weather, and the best view in Cala Morvi.