Journal
Packing for a Villa Week: The Case Against the Big Suitcase
A private house is not a hotel with a shop downstairs. What earns its place in the bag for a week in the Mediterranean, and what never leaves it.
The instinct before a villa week is to pack for every version of the week. The result is a case that a driver struggles with, a wardrobe you use a third of, and a laundry bill in a house that already has a washing machine.
A villa week is really four settings: the pool, the town in the afternoon, dinner on the terrace, and one evening somewhere that expects a jacket or a dress. Dress each of those once and repeat. Linen, cotton and a single pair of shoes you can walk cobbles in will cover five days without a repeat anyone notices.
What travellers consistently under-pack is unglamorous. A light long-sleeved layer for evenings that turn, because a September terrace at nine o'clock is not an August one. Reef shoes if there is any chance of a rocky entry. Proper reef-safe sun cream in a size the house will not have. A power adaptor per person rather than per family.
What they consistently over-pack is footwear and formalwear. Very few places in the Mediterranean require a tie. Most require closed shoes and a collar.
Houses vary in what they supply, and it is worth a single email before you fly rather than a discovery on arrival: beach towels, hairdryers, cots, high chairs, a coffee machine and which capsules it takes, whether there is a washing machine and whether anyone will run it for you. A staffed house will also ask for a shopping list before arrival — answer it properly and the first evening becomes a dinner rather than a supermarket run.
Carry-on should hold the things that ruin a first day if the hold bag is late: swimwear, sun cream, medication, a change of clothes and the charger for the phone that the driver will call. Everything else can arrive a day late without incident.
The test for the rest is simple. If you would not pack it for four nights, you do not need it for seven.