VESTIGE – Travel Review

Travel Review:

VESTIGE

Vestige is a growing constellation of restored estates across the Spain — more soul than hotel or villa, more legacy than brand. Every property is a quiet rebellion against the disposable. History held, detail considered, beauty slowed way down.

“There are places that whisper. That don’t demand to be seen, but once you do, they stay with you. These are the places I adore and that I seek out for clients.”

A few years ago, Le Collectionist brought me on to scout the Balearics for rare villas — places with soul, texture, and a sense of place. While that company eventually lost its way, the search led me somewhere that was just beginning. In 2022, I got my first glimpse behind the Vestige curtain at Son Veri, a faded Mallorcan palacio perched above Valldemossa. The bones were solid. The presence was undeniable. But it needed breath — fresh energy, thoughtful hands. I remember walking the grounds thinking: someone has invested deeply here. But it still wasn’t it.

Later, those same owners took me to another property perched above the sea. The views: unmatched. The road: not for the faint of heart. The kitchen: too small for the property. But again, the intention was undeniable. The renovation kept the good and replaced the good with the better. Real doors, handles and knobs, fixtures that were quality and key. I filed it all away. There was potential. Still, I was waiting for them to go further. To get it right.

THE RECONNAISSANCE 

Last spring, I arrived in Menorca to trace something I’d long sensed taking shape. The Madera Fernández family had kept going, quietly restoring the land, the stone, the soul of old estates — and I was curious to see what had emerged.

Sebastian Styger — Vestige’s newly appointed Managing Director and the mind behind their evolving brand — welcomed me at the Santa Ana site. Now in quiet transformation, the estate sits within 210 hectares of untouched Menorcan countryside, a short walk from Cala Macarella. And even mid-construction, it had presence. Each former banyera had been carefully reimagined as an independent suite — private, elegant, and intelligently integrated into the larger compound. I walked through the dining room, admiring how it opened once again to a kitchen that still felt too small — a charming imperfection that made the space more human. Everywhere, design details bore the distinct imprint of Mrs. Madera Fernández’s studio: considered, textural, true to place. The pool and its future pool house were still in progress, but I could already see how they'd anchor the rhythm of this retreat. The landscape design — subtle, rooted, essential — was already beginning to blend into the bones of the land.

We wandered down the path toward the sea — boats drifting on that impossibly clear turquoise — and paused for a cold drink at the chiringuito before climbing back into our cars to see what was next.

The next stop was Son Ermità and Binidufà, two sister properties still in the beginning stages of becoming. Even barely-rebuilt, they already had presence. Son Ermità — opening June 2025 — is a golden-hued 18th-century finca perched high above the land, offering just 11 rooms and endless views. It’s the kind of place designed for unhurried mornings and light that lingers long past golden hour. Binidufà, arriving shortly after in August, shares the estate but lives in its own rhythm — tucked deeper into the valley, surrounded by palms and stillness. What they’re building here isn’t just hospitality. It’s a quiet return — to pace, to craft, to presence. You feel it before anything’s even finished.

I saw the renderings, the stone, the land. I saw the vision.

And I felt it: this is it.

SON VELL

I said well done to Sebastian and drove alone to Son Vell, their already operating jewel, to spend the night. I was welcomed warmly by Gary and shown to my room — a mix of simplicity and serenity: local ceramics, crisp linens, stone everywhere. The bathroom was a perfect — a bath/shower hybrid that practically begged for a slow soak.

I made a quick turnaround to head back out to the main terrace to meet with their Manager for a tour and to be able to grab some photos. A little kid chased me down across the sprawling lawn yelling “Mama” with his embarrassed dad not far behind. I said hello, cute kid. I ran into the office where I met his mom Sarah — a professional photographer who was going to tour through the property with me. We walked though and both noted that it was photogenic. I needed to send some emails so I set myself on the porch umbrella tassels swaying, negroni in hand, typing while the dusk settled in.

I ran back to my room, frisbeed my compute on the bed and threw on my swimsuit, ran to the farm pool, and dove straight in, did some handstands and swam some laps. On the walk back, a woman from Brooklyn passed me and said: “Everything you're doing, you're doing right.” I laughed. She admired my childlike joy. I appreciated her solo verve.

Back in my room, I put on music and showered, danced and decided to order pasta pomodoro and a bottle of wine. When the room service arrived, they commented in Spanish, “Parece una fiesta aquí.” I replied, “Sí, una fiesta para una,” and they said, “La mejor.” I ate, watched Sex and the City, my comfort watch and felt completely, perfectly alone in the best way.

MORNING RITUALS

I slept like a dream in the big bed. Woke early. Put on the kettle — every hotel should provide a kettle and lemon, and thankfully, Vestige understands this. Thoughtful touches everywhere: local products, perfectly curated.

I grabbed a coffee at breakfast and headed to yoga on the platform. The French teacher led a soft, grounded session. Back to my room, quick rinse, dress on, and to breakfast. A barefoot New Yorker pontificated to the chef — a reminder that even the best places can’t screen for good manners. But the spread? Sublime. And Gary checked in, casually asking, “What’s the plan today?”

“All of it,” I answered.

ASPEN EXTREME

That afternoon, I borrowed a mountain bike and coasted down the path toward the sea — wind in my face, jean shorts and a button-up shirt from Kenya, my unofficial uniform. I passed horses grazing in the dry grass, hikers with wide-brimmed hats, and caught glimpses of the sea shifting from calm to moody. A ferry warning had come through: the water would be wild later. But for now, it was just me and the island.

The climb back up to Son Vell felt like something out of a dream — sun slanting low, olive trees casting long shadows, long golden hay fields. I kept stopping to snap photos, one hand on the handlebars, the other trying to catch light. Probably not advisable. Worth it.

Back on the estate, I walked barefoot across the grass that wraps around the pool. Swam. Ordered a cold beer. Let the sun dry me off. Watched a couple nearby exchanging slightly stilted conversation and thought: maybe solitude really is the luxury. At least today it was.

I packed the car and drove into Ciutadella — my usual stops, my usual rhythm — and then made my way to a cala to wait for the ferry and watch the world spin a little slower. I was early, knowing the sea wouldn’t make it easy.

And it didn’t. The waves hit hard, tossing all the passengers around like corks. I held my seat, steady. When we docked in Alcudia, I hit the MA toward Palma. Back to routine. Back to reality. But somehow, deeper in love with Menorca than I’d ever been and excited about the possibility with Vestige.

This wasn’t just a reconnaissance trip. It was a reset. A remembering. A reminder that luxury is not noise, but nuance.

THE END AND THE BEGINNING

After the trip, I debriefed with Le Collectionist. I said: this is it. This is the kind of place that rewrites the standard. But the new (and temporary) head of Spain operations didn’t agree. She asked me to start scouting white boxes on the golden mile instead — slick minimalism for a client base more interested in optics than substance and making numbers for a company more interested in quantity than quality. I declined. Respectfully. And just like that, I stepped away. What began as a promising collaboration had revealed its limits. A company can’t sell soul if it doesn’t know how to recognize it.

But I do. And Vestige — in all its texture, stillness, and future-facing restraint — is full of it.

In January, I called Sebastian to let him know I was no longer working with Le Collectionist. He didn’t hesitate — invited me straightaway to Miramar for an intimate gathering of top villa agents and travel planners on the island. A few days later, I walked down my street in Palma — just a few minutes from my flat — and knocked on my neighbor’s door.

Miramar sits quietly behind a sea wall, cloaked in elegance. I rang the bell. No answer. I circled to the front, where I knew I could call up from the edge. I spotted Sebastian on the terrace, glass of wine in hand, mid-conversation. I waved. He smiled and disappeared down the stairs.

The heavy wooden door opened to a courtyard bathed in soft winter light — citrus trees, curved archways, stone underfoot. Inside, the house wraps around you in history and hush. High ceilings. Patinaed walls. The kind of place that holds its breath.

We climbed the stairs and emerged onto the terrace. I greeted familiar faces — colleagues from the travel world — and declined a glass of wine. I didn’t want to get caught in small talk. I wanted to see the space.

Marta, Vestige’s new marketing director, offered to show me around. Each room revealed a new perspective: the cathedral, the port, the shimmer of the sea. Then we stepped into the master bedroom — a full sweep of glass and light running the length of the building. Palma laid out before it. I stood there and said quietly to no one in particular: “This is good.”

There was a short presentation on the evolution of Vestige — where it’s going, what it believes in. I stayed long enough to listen, then excused myself. I had a client call back in my flat and didn’t want to miss it.

Back on the street, I walked home under the chill of a January night, wrapped in my long Jacquemus coat. The city felt cinematic. Quiet bars buzzed low behind glass. Art galleries flickered with warm light. Conversations floated through shuttered balconies. And I thought — this is what I want my clients to feel. Not just to see Palma, but to live it, Iike I do. To feel places like this. To travel not for spectacle — but for substance.

Vestige doesn’t shout. It listens.
To land, to architecture, to the rhythms of slowness that modern life often forgets. Each place felt not like a hotel or villa, but a lesson in how to live more beautifully.

This is my version of luxury:
The luxury of time. Of solitude. Of eating well and sleeping deeply. Of feeling seen, not managed.

VESTIGE — WHAT I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR
They aren’t just creating hotels and luxury properties. They’re reviving memory. Preserving the bones of the Mediterranean and layering in restraint, texture, and taste. They are now my neighbors, and hopefully, constant collaborators. Let me know when you want to experience what they are all about. 

To experience VESTIGE, ROOV ACTS AS YOUR INSIDE LINE — SECURING ACCESS TO THE MOST COMPLELLING PROPERTIES IN THE BALEARIC BEFORE THE REST OF THE WORLD CATCHES ON. THESE AREN’T HOTELS. THEY’RE PRIVATELY HELD ESTATES — REVIVED WITH BRUTAL ATTENTION TO DETAIL RESTRAINT, AND CULTURAL DEPTH. WE DON’T JUST BOOK ROOMS. WE BUILD EXPERIENCES: PRIVATE CHEF DINNERS UNDER FIG TREES, GUIED WALKS THROUGH RAW COASTLINE, STUDIO TIME WITH LOCAL ARTISTS, MIDNIGHT SWIMS, CONVERSATIONS. EVERY STAY IS CURATED FOR YOU.

Drop us a line to book your Vestige stay.

WHERE:

• Santa Ana – Near Cala Galdana, Menorca
  A private estate hidden in 210 hectares of Mediterranean landscape. Six ensuite bedrooms. Walkable to Cala Macarella. Built for families, friends, and travelers who don’t need to be seen.

• Son Ermità – Opening June 2025
  A golden-hued finca set above Menorca’s central hills. Eleven rooms. Views for days. Restaurant Brisa and a pool that invites long, slow afternoons.

• Binidufà – Opening August 2025
  Just down the path from Son Ermità. Same number of rooms, same sense of ease. Built into the land with absolute intention.

• Son Vell – Near Ciutadella, Menorca
  An 18th-century manor reborn as a rural escape. 180 hectares of fig, wild olive, and lavender. Time slows here. Eleven rooms, a farm pool, and enough stillness to reset everything.

• Miramar – Palma Old Town, Mallorca
  A restored city mansion tucked behind stone walls and citrus trees. Feels remote, but sits at the heart of everything. Quiet luxury steps from the cathedral.

• Coming soon: Xas Chocolat, Banyalbufar, and more under radar (for now).

WHEN: April to June: wildflowers, long shadows, no crowds. Late August to October: perfect seas, golden light, warm evenings.

WHO: The minimalist who notices details. The traveler who collects moments, not itineraries.The couple looking to reconnect off-grid. The artist, the writer, the observer. Anyone who moves at their own pace.

WHAT TO PACK:

• Linen

• Bensimon shoes that can walk both cobblestones and trails

• A swimsuit

• A sun hat

• Sunscreen

• Sunglasses

• Bicycling shorts or yoga pants