Esperia

Himare, Albania | June 2025

In the fall of 2024, I spent six weeks doing a work exchange at a boutique seaside hotel in Himare, a small town in southern Albania. I fell in love with it—the sea to swim in every day, the mountains as a backdrop to daily life, the charming cafes, bars, restaurants, and artisan shops to explore, and above all, the culture generously shared with me by the family I volunteered for.

As a barista, breakfast server, and occasional receptionist, I floated around the hotel restaurant like a seaside fairy, chatting with guests, pulling espresso shots, giving directions to my favorite beach spots, and leaning over the deck railing to peer at sea urchins on the rocks below.

My favorite part quickly became learning from Arta—the owner, head chef, gardener, and menu designer. Originally from Vlore, a coastal city north of Himare, Arta moved to the smaller town after marrying Nestoras, whose Greek family owned the hotel property.

Years ago, Nestoras and his sisters, Adelina and Artemis, completed their father’s vision by opening the Esperia restaurant along with five hotel rooms. When Arta joined the team, her culinary passion and love for hospitality became an integral part of the hotel’s heart and future.

In Himare, family-run businesses are the norm—and a point of pride. Generations often work side by side, building and sustaining legacies in hotels, guesthouses, and tavernas. You can feel that legacy in the care and attention infused in every detail, with many vibrant stories eager to be captured in each locale, if only one is curious enough to hear them. 

Esperia is no different–he whole family has poured so much into this place, and it shows. Today, Nestoras manages Rea Boutique Hotel and the Esperia Restaurant. Artemis operates her own set of hotel rooms on the lower level, where guests step from their rooms straight into the sea. Adelina provides marketing and design support from Athens. Arta is ever-present in the kitchen and gardens, greeting guests and designing plates garnished with herbs she harvests herself on the daily. Their daughters help, too—Ariadhni as a sous chef and Eleftheria as a server. Even the youngest, Rhea and Spiros, are likely to find their place in time.

I have been moved in so many instances by the heart and dedication of each family member; they’re clearly working with a zest for life and passion for service, not just for a profit. Hospitality is in their nature. 

Arta once told me she hopes her children will carry the hotel and restaurant forward in their own unique ways. There’s no pressure, she said, but the hope is there—that they’ll add their own beauty and style to the family’s ongoing story.

I first fell for Arta’s breakfast menu. It’s simple and a la carte. The best part: while the menu choices never change, the plates created and served change every day. This is part of Arta’s magic. A guest might order local pastries three days in a row and receive different selections each time—homemade donuts, Greek Ravani cake, or toasted croissants—depending on what Arta feels inspired to make. A plate of eggs might come one day with arugula and diced peaches, the next with basil and tomatoes. And the fruit atop the yogurt energy bowl (made with only the best Greek yogurt, literally brought from Greece) entirely depends on the season. 

I was already a breakfast person before trying her menu, but Arta has only affirmed for me that breakfast is the most important meal of the day. Paired with a coffee, of course. 

When I left last October, I was harvesting pomegranates and persimmons daily, foraging wild greens, and even helping with the olive harvest—they make their own olive oil, of course. I knew a few things at that point: that the hotel would undergo renovations over the winter; that the Esperia restaurant would reopen in spring with dinner service; that new fruits and vegetables would be in season—and that I would be back to witness it.

And so, in June, I returned. The art of returning is rarely spoken of, but it is one of life’s quiet joys. Locals embraced me with warmth, and friends expressed genuine shock at seeing me again so soon. It’s rare, I’ve learned, for a backpacker to come back to the same town twice—especially so quickly.

But there I was, familiar and welcomed, catching up with the family and others around town. My heart overflowed. I was ready to jump back into work, but Nestoras smiled and said, “You’re on vacation. Just relax.”

So I followed Arta through her gardens instead. She trimmed fennel flowers while showing me her passion fruit vines. We found a hidden heirloom tomato, and she beamed—these were from seeds she’d brought back from Sicily. She was beyond thrilled with how they were producingt.

Every time I’ve been in the gardens with Arta, I see this deep, radiant glow from her. To me, she is always a light, but this is where she shines most brightly. She loves the earth, she loves putting work into it, she loves what grows, and she loves sharing the harvest with others. .When I later asked what lesson this life and the work of building a business here had taught her, she didn’t hesitate: “When you put love into what you do, the fruits will come back to you.” I see this truth in every action she takes.

Most of the ingredients at Esperia are from the family’s gardens or nearby farms. Some relatives have larger plots just outside Himare and deliver produce multiple times a week. Nothing comes from supermarkets. Seafood is purchased straight off the boats in the port next door when they return from a day at sea. Even the pasta is handmade—including the pasta nero, with squid ink that gives it a deep, midnight gleam.

Of everything on the menu, Arta told me that while is is very excited about the pasta this year, her favorite is simply the salad. Nothing beats those garden fresh flavors and colors. A favorite ingredient that Arta and I share is purslane – often dismissed as a strange weed. She’s got it springing up all over the place, and puts this superfood to good use in her salads. I forage it daily there, too.  It’s been one of my favorites since years ago when a farmer in Malibu plucked a sprig from between sidewalk cracks and told me it’s the most nutrient dense plant out there, boasting impressively high levels of omega-3 fatty acids, antioxidants, and vitamins A and C.

One day, I was baking a birthday cake for a friend in Arta and Nestoras’ home kitchen when she handed me Greek pistachio butter for the crust. Then we talked about the jar she’d brought from Sicily. That led us back to the tomatoes, and somewhere in our conversation, she said somewhat jokingly about Esperia that, “we are revolutionary.” 

She laughed, but it was really true. 

While many nearby restaurants are delicious, few match Esperia’s devotion to health, sustainability, and truly local flavor. Yes, prices may seem higher at Esperia—but if people saw what I’ve seen as far as the care that goes into each plate, they’d know each one is worth twice as much.

How ironic is it that in today’s world, cooking and eating from the land—what we’ve always been meant to do—is suddenly an act of revolution?

The guest experience at Esperia is guided by a single principle: cook each dish as if it were for family. Wouldn’t you want the best, freshest, most lovingly prepared meal for someone you love?

When asked what else she prioritizes, Arta said, “That our guests feel like part of the family. Relaxed and happy. When they are happy, I am happy too.”

The name “Esperia,” or more precisely esperios ilios, is Greek for the evening sun. Not the sunset itself, but the golden light that surrounds it—a gentle glow, quiet and powerful, just before night falls.

It’s the perfect name. This place doesn’t boast. It doesn’t need to. Like the evening sun, it radiates warmth without demanding attention. It knows its worth. And to those who pause long enough to notice and walk through the doors, it radiates its glow without ever needing to land on center stage.

I don’t know if she sees herself this way, but to me, Arta is first and foremost an artist—it’s even in her name. She creates beauty all around her, from the flowers she picks and places stem by stem in hotel rooms, to the drops of basil infused oilve oil she encircles a plate of seabass with before sending it off to a table.

 Arta, if you’re reading this: I know you’re modest about being the protagonist, but I want you to know how beautiful of a picture you’re painting in this story, and I thank you for letting me witness it. I am constantly inspired by what your family has created and already can’t wait to come back and taste another season’s bounty.

Check out this short film for more of the story in an interview between myself and Arta: