Villa Paraiso

Most Bali pools are rectangles. The one at Villa Paraiso is not: it curves, widens into a sun shelf broad enough to lie on in ankle-deep water, and steps down into the deep end on rounded treads that look poured rather than built. Everything else in the villa arranges itself around that shape. A coral stone wall runs along one side with an arched rain shower cut into it, planter beds of heliconia soften the boundary, and a cushioned daybed sits at the water’s edge under the overhang of the floor above. At night the pool lights come on and the whole terrace turns the colour of the water.

The ground floor opens onto it through timber-framed doors that fold back on two sides, and once they are open the living room has no walls left to speak of. The sofa is sunk into the floor, a built-in plaster horseshoe facing the pool with slatted timber tables at knee height, and the ceiling above it is raked and lined in timber battens with a slow fan turning under the ridge. Along the same run sit a light timber dining table for six and a kitchen with pale stone counters, a breakfast bar with woven stools and three enormous raffia-fringed pendants hanging over it. Gas hob, oven, blender, toaster, wine glasses — you can genuinely cook here.

Off to one side, and easy to miss from the road, is the best seat in the house: a covered lounge under an alang-alang thatched pergola on timber posts, with a built-in banquette running its length, woven cushions, low rattan tables and a hanging egg chair swinging beside it. It catches shade all afternoon and it is where you will end up with a book while somebody else swims. Villa staff clean daily and look after the pool and garden two or three times a week, so it stays this way without you thinking about it.

Upstairs the two bedrooms both sit under high pitched ceilings lined in timber with the rafters left exposed. One has an arched alcove of rough coral stone forming the headboard wall, a round rattan mirror over a timber console, and a window filled with palm crowns; the other takes a floating concrete headboard ledge with light hidden beneath it, a wall of timber wardrobes, an arched rattan floor mirror and a balcony with a woven chair. Both have their own bathroom, long stone vanities with twin basins, arched or round mirrors, and walk-in rain showers backed by more of that coral stone. Umalas keeps its best cafes within a few minutes: Nook is one, Livingstone two, Batu Belig Beach six.

Villa Paraiso suits two couples, or a small family, who want the Umalas end of things — quiet lanes, good coffee within walking distance, the beach a few minutes on. Take it for a week, claim the thatched lounge before anyone else does, and let the concierge organise a cook for the night you cannot face going out.