You have the apartment and the person who holds the keys. Everything below is what we arrange around that: a driver at the airport, a box at the opera held six weeks out, a table that was full when you called, a chef who cooks in your kitchen and leaves it clean. Ask for one thing or the whole week.
Three weeks before you travel we write with a proposed shape for the days: what is worth booking now, what is better left open, and which morning to keep free because the market is only on Thursday. You edit it; we book it.
Seats at the Palais Garnier and the Opéra Bastille, the Philharmonie, the Théâtre du Châtelet; the Odeon of Herodes Atticus under the Acropolis in summer; the Opéra de Nice. We hold seats as soon as the season opens, which is the only way to sit well, and we say honestly when a production is not worth the evening.
The three-star rooms that open their books two months ahead, and the twelve-cover places that answer to a name they know. Booked in your name, with a note on what to order and how long to allow.
Private openings and early entries where they exist — the Louvre before the doors, the Acropolis Museum after closing, a collector's apartment that is not open to the public — with a guide who is a historian rather than a megaphone.
The same driver for your whole stay, in a saloon or a van, who meets the flight with your name and waits when the plane is late. By the transfer, the half-day or the day. English, French and Greek spoken; child seats fitted before you land.
Dinner for two or eight, cooked where you are staying: the market in the morning with the chef if you like, the table laid, the kitchen left as it was found. Also breakfast on the terrace for a birthday, and one cooking lesson that is actually a lesson.
Daily or mid-stay housekeeping, linen changed when you ask rather than on a rota, shirts pressed and back the same day, dry cleaning collected. The fridge stocked before arrival from a list you write, or from ours.
Massage and treatments in the apartment, a hairdresser before the evening, a trainer for the morning, a pool or a hammam within walking distance. A doctor, a dentist or a pharmacy that speaks your language at any hour, because it is usually a bad hour.
Cot, high chair and a bath toy in place before you arrive; a vetted, insured sitter for the evening you want to eat late; a pushchair that folds into a taxi. Grandparents welcome, and so are their naps.
From Paris: a Champagne house that receives six people, or the Loire by car and back by dinner. From Athens: a day sail to Aegina or Sounion at the right hour for the light. From Nice: the coast train into Italy, or a boat from the old port with a cook aboard.
The concierge itself is included in your stay: writing, planning, reserving, and being reachable while you are here. You are never billed for asking.
Anything bought on your behalf — tickets, drivers, chefs, sitters, treatments — is passed on at what it costs, with a handling fee agreed in writing before we book. We take no commission from restaurants, guides or shops, which is why we can tell you when something is not worth it.
One invoice at the end of the stay, itemised, in euros.
Ask for something