Vivenda familiar 140 m², Lamira, Andros

A beautiful home built in the traditional Andrian style with high ceilings and a ceramic tiled roof in the picturesque village of Lamyra. This house sits on a 650 m2 terraced plot and it has three levels with a guesthouse on the top floor. There are three bedrooms and three bathrooms total. The floors are a fluid mixture of wood, 50's style mosaic and cement mortar (tsimentokonia). You will find citrus trees on the property and a cistern which provides water to the house. A peaceful location with green surroundings and views of Chora and the sea. Access is by a short, 25-meter scenic footpath. Please call +30-6971721760 to arrange a visit to the exquisite property. realestateandros.com From the owner: I purchased this house for its silence and the scent of orange trees. In Lamira, mornings rise from the sea, and the first light pours into the bedroom until the walls glow like an orange lantern. Church bells and far roosters stir the valley, reminders that this is a still-farming island, resolutely human and primordial. The cottage stays faithful to the village spirit: traditional, honest, and uncommercial. There are no shops to distract you, only wind, stone, fruit, and the sound of your own breath. Inside, everything is simple and clear. Whitewashed walls, wooden ceilings, windows that open to leaves and sky. A comfortable living area, and a kitchen that breathes straight onto the terrace. Life moves outdoors. Goats and other animals sometimes appear as if to greet you, and the walk to the house is part of the experience that makes this off-grid place special. Here, you are not a spectator of nature; you are inside it. At night, Chora reveals itself across the valley like a handful of scattered jewels, its lights flickering softly against the hillside. When the moon is full, it rises over the sea and lays a silver path across the water, so bright it feels like you could walk on it. The skies here are profoundly dark; with so little light around, the stars sharpen and constellations emerge with a clarity that feels ancient. You look up, and the island’s quiet enlarges. Guests call it a corner of paradise. I think of it as a sanctuary. It becomes a refuge with surprising speed, the place your mind returns to even when you’re far away. The garden is still watered from the cistern, in the old way, and everything here makes sense: the path, the light, the quiet logic of a home that doesn’t perform, but belongs. I hope the next person who lives here will feel what I felt — that rare harmony between place and soul — and that the house, in its quiet way, will love you back