Markos Chaidemenos of Canaves Collection on Evolving a Santorini Legacy
- Andrew C.
- 1 day ago
- 13 min read
Some conversations take years to arrive at the right moment.
My history with Markos Chaidemenos and Canaves Collection goes back almost to the beginning of My Inspire Project. We met through one of our closest mutual friends, and during our first year, Santorini became one of the places that helped shape what our platform would become. Our first travel film was made here, at Canaves Oia.
Much has changed since.
My Inspire Project has grown far beyond those early journeys. Canaves has grown from its beginnings in Oia into Canaves Collection, one of Greece’s most recognized independent hospitality names. Santorini itself has undergone a transformation few destinations have experienced with such intensity.
For Markos, that transformation is also family history.
His parents, Yiannis and Anna Chaidemenos, were among the early hoteliers in Oia, beginning with two converted wine caves when tourism was still taking shape. Yiannis also served as mayor of Oia, helping guide a village opening itself to international tourism while protecting the architecture and identity that made it distinctive.
Markos grew up inside that evolution. In 2010, he and his brother Alexandros assumed leadership of Canaves, bringing a more international outlook to a business still closely tied to the family and island from which it came.
His generation now faces a different version of the question his father confronted decades earlier.
Santorini’s extraordinary success has brought opportunity alongside pressure on its infrastructure, housing, resources and communities. For a family whose history is intertwined with Oia’s rise, the responsibility of what comes next is particularly personal. The challenge is no longer about how to grow, but how to preserve what made that growth possible.
That question has become even more relevant as Canaves enters its next chapter, with ambitions that now extend beyond Santorini.
Markos and I have watched our respective worlds grow and shared plenty of memories along the way. Sitting down for this conversation felt like the right moment to look back at how we got here—and, more importantly, where he wants to go next.
The iconic view of Oia Santorini Canaves Oia Canaves Epitome
Inheriting Oia
Markos Chaidemenos remembers an Oia very different from the one most travelers know today.
This was the Oia of his childhood, before the sunset crowds and international recognition transformed the village into one of the Mediterranean’s most desired destinations. Canaves was growing alongside it, although the family story reaches further back than hospitality.
Markos’s great-grandfather was a winemaker, using the caves carved into Oia’s volcanic cliffs for fermentation and storage. Known locally as canaves, these traditional wine cellars would eventually give the business its name. In 1986, his parents, Yiannis and Anna Chaidemenos, began converting two of the family caves into guest accommodation. This year, Canaves Collection celebrates its 40th anniversary.
The family photographs make those beginnings tangible. Chickens wander between rough stone walls and cave openings; wooden barrels fill the old cellars. Later, those same spaces appear whitewashed and inhabited, with simple wooden furniture and terraces looking across a caldera almost startlingly empty by today’s measure. Markos is there too, growing up inside the hotel taking shape around him.
The original site of Canaves before turning it into a resort. (Courtesy of Canaves Collection) The Canaves Oia today Old image of Oia main road (Courtesy of Canaves Collection) The original canaves (Courtesy of Canaves Collection) The original canaves (Courtesy of Canaves Collection) The original canaves (Courtesy of Canaves Collection) The original canaves (Courtesy of Canaves Collection)
His earliest memory of Canaves is of the large brown reception desk where his mother did the accounting. The family lived behind the reception area of what is now Canaves Ena, and at three or four years old, Markos would crawl beneath the desk and hide things in its small compartments.
“That was your playground,” I tell him during our conversation. It quite literally was.
Hospitality never arrived as a grand decision. At 18, Markos says, studying hospitality simply felt “like a given.” He moved to Switzerland for hospitality management before returning to the business he had grown up around. He is candid about the advantage of that inheritance: his parents had already built a business and given him a path into the industry. What he considers himself even luckier to have discovered is that he genuinely loves the work.
“I really love what I’m doing. It’s my hobby, it’s my passion,” he says.
When Markos took over in 2010, however, loving Canaves did not mean preserving it exactly as he found it.
“I had a very different mindset,” he remembers. The first thing he wanted to change was “the philosophy”, the way the family thought about the business and how it operated. The properties were authentic to Oia, but Markos felt their traditional style no longer spoke to the travelers he wanted to reach. He pushed for a more contemporary expression of the cave architecture and a more outward-looking approach to the business.
The harder transformation was within the family. “The family was doing things in a certain way,” he says. “It was difficult to change the mindset.”
There was, he admits, “a lot of fighting in the beginning.” At one point, the resistance became serious enough for Markos to question whether he belonged in the business at all. If his family believed his ideas would not work, he remembers thinking, perhaps he should do something else.
“It was a family business. The family was doing things in a certain way, but the first thing we needed to change was the philosophy.”
Markos had been given the opportunity to enter Canaves; the authority to change it still had to be earned.
Eventually, his family allowed him to try. The properties changed, guests responded, and new markets followed, particularly from the United States. What had initially created friction began producing results.
“After that, there was trust.”
Forty years after those first caves opened to guests, the simplicity of that line carries particular weight. Markos did not need to discard what his parents had built to establish his own direction. He learned where their experience mattered, where Canaves needed to evolve and, through the process, earned the freedom to take it somewhere new.
Today, the old reception where he once hid beneath his mother’s desk is Suite 16. The child who grew up inside Canaves is now deciding how far beyond Oia its name can travel.
The early edition of Canaves Oia (Courtesy of Canaves Collection) Young Markos at his family property. (Courtesy of Canaves Collectio The early edition of Canaves Oia (Courtesy of Canaves Collection) The early edition of Canaves Oia (Courtesy of Canaves Collection) The early edition of Canaves Oia (Courtesy of Canaves Collection) The early edition of Canaves Oia (Courtesy of Canaves Collection) The early edition of Canaves Oia (Courtesy of Canaves Collection)
The Freedom to Evolve
The changes inside the hotels were only the beginning.
Early on, he began travelling to meet the people sending guests to Canaves: travel advisors, tour operators and partners, sometimes even visiting guests in their own countries. It was a distinctly personal approach to sales and marketing, and one Markos credits with building trust, attracting more repeat guests and opening Canaves to new markets.
“This helped us build confidence with our friends and partners,” he tells me. “And this made a big difference.”
Markos remains closely involved in the conception and construction of the hotels. What works on paper does not always work in reality, and he readily recalls moments when something was completed only for the family to decide it had to be done again.
“Let’s change it, demolish it and let’s do it again. It’s not the most cost-effective way of building,” he admits. Return on investment matters—“of course, this is important to sustain a business”—but, for Markos, “it’s a way of life.”
Inside Canaves Oia Inside Canaves Oia Inside Canaves Oia Inside Canaves Oia Inside Canaves Oia Inside the new family villa at Canaves Oia Inside the new family villa at Canaves Oia Inside the new family villa at Canaves Oia Inside the new family villa at Canaves Oia Dining experience at Petra Restaurant at Canaves Oia Dining experience at Petra Restaurant at Canaves Oia
He describes the process as one of “a lot of errors, a lot of mistakes that we learn from,” and that same willingness to reconsider extends to growth itself. Markos has turned down properties and projects that did not feel right for Canaves.
“We are who we are because of all the noes and all the rejections.”
That philosophy now guides Canaves as it enters its most ambitious period of growth.
Two years ago, Canaves Oia became Canaves Collection, a rebranding that signaled something larger than a change of name. Oia remains its origin and Santorini, Markos says, will “always have a special part in our hearts.” But once the family began looking beyond the island, a brand defined geographically by Oia could no longer describe where they wanted to go.
For Markos, it was never about reproducing Santorini elsewhere. The whitewashed caves belong to Oia. What Canaves could carry forward was its way of seeing a place, its taste, hospitality and understanding of a destination, while allowing somewhere new to inspire a different expression.
Naxos will be the first test.
Canaves is developing a beachfront property of around 35 suites there, with an opening currently planned for 2027. Markos was drawn to an island with a life of its own beyond tourism: beaches alongside mountain villages, agriculture and livestock, and communities whose identities are not entirely dependent on visitors. In fifteen minutes, as he describes it, you can leave the beach and find yourself in a mountain village experiencing another side of Greek island life.
His vision for the hotel begins with how Naxos makes him feel. He imagines arriving, taking off your shoes and moving barefoot through a small village beside the beach, with little reason to put them back on until departure.
“That’s what the island makes me feel,” he says. “We want to show the destination through our style, our taste, our understanding.”
It is a deceptively simple description of what Canaves is attempting after four decades in Santorini. The next chapter is not about exporting Oia. It is about taking the instincts developed there somewhere new, while allowing another island to retain its own character.
Inside Canaves Ena, the first Canaves property (Courtesy of Canaves Collection) Inside Canaves Ena, the first Canaves property (Courtesy of Canaves Collection) Inside Canaves Ena, the first Canaves property (Courtesy of Canaves Collection) Inside Canaves Ena, the first Canaves property (Courtesy of Canaves Collection) Inside Canaves Ena, the first Canaves property (Courtesy of Canaves Collection) Inside Canaves Ena, the first Canaves property (Courtesy of Canaves Collection) Inside Canaves Ena, the first Canaves property (Courtesy of Canaves Collection) Inside Canaves Ena, the first Canaves property (Courtesy of Canaves Collection) Inside Canaves Ena, the first Canaves property (Courtesy of Canaves Collection)
The People Who Carry Canaves
Seasonality places a particular pressure on hospitality. In destinations like Santorini, where hotels operate through an intense part of the year, and much of the workforce arrives from elsewhere, keeping a strong team from one season to the next is a persistent challenge. For Markos, that stability has become one of the most valuable parts of the Canaves experience.
At this level of hospitality, Markos considers the view, location and quality of the physical product almost givens. What distinguishes one experience from another is the emotional connection between a guest and the people they encounter along the way.
“The way you interact with us is the way you interact with a destination.”
Around 90 per cent of the Canaves team, Markos estimates, comes from somewhere else—Athens, other parts of Greece and abroad. Yet he describes staff turnover as among the lowest on Santorini and the Greek islands.
That begins with how Canaves hires.
“We don’t choose our team members based on skill, but rather based on character.” Markos is practical about it. “I don’t care if you know how to hold a tray,” he says. “This is something you will learn.” What matters to him is whether someone has “a positive aura,” whether they are naturally hospitable, kind and able to smile.
“These are all attributes that cannot be taught. Either you are, or you’re not.” Technical standards can be trained. The instinct to make another person feel welcome is harder to acquire.
Once Canaves finds those people, Markos believes the responsibility shifts to the company.
Because most employees leave their own homes to spend the season on Santorini, Canaves has invested in privately owned staff accommodation. When I ask what the company does to retain people, housing is one of the first things he mentions.
“They’re leaving their home to go to another home,” he says. “So we need to make them comfortable.” Then comes something more domestic: food.
“Amazing staff food,” he says immediately. People are leaving behind the cooking of their mothers, grandmothers and partners, along with the routines of home; what they eat every day matters. Salary matters too, he adds without hesitation, as does creating an environment where people enjoy working together.
The effect eventually reaches the guest. Markos and his family may be present around the properties, but he knows that most of a traveler’s relationship with Canaves will be shaped by the team: the people who welcome them, anticipate what they need, make recommendations and shape how they come to experience the destination.
“These are our ambassadors,” he says. In a seasonal business where teams can change dramatically from one year to the next, retaining great people allows relationships, knowledge and a sense of place to deepen over time.
Inside Canaves Sunday (Courtesy of Canaves Collection) Inside Canaves Sunday (Courtesy of Canaves Collection) Inside Canaves Sunday (Courtesy of Canaves Collection) Inside Canaves Sunday (Courtesy of Canaves Collection) Inside Canaves Sunday (Courtesy of Canaves Collection) Inside Canaves Sunday (Courtesy of Canaves Collection) Inside Canaves Sunday (Courtesy of Canaves Collection) Inside Canaves Sunday (Courtesy of Canaves Collection) Inside Canaves Sunday (Courtesy of Canaves Collection)
The Responsibility of Success
Few subjects surrounding Santorini today are discussed as frequently as overtourism. Markos knows the narrative well, but he is wary of reducing the island to it.
Santorini is busy, he argues, because people from around the world want to see it. The more important question is how that demand is managed—and what kind of experience visitors have once they arrive.
His perspective extends beyond Canaves. Markos says he is involved with Santorini’s tourism committee and works closely with the municipality and mayor, giving him a direct view of the decisions being made around the island’s future.
Cruise tourism has been one of the clearest pressure points. The issue is less the presence of cruise ships than the intensity and brevity of the way their passengers experience the island. Thousands can arrive within a narrow window, move through the same handful of places and leave only hours later, placing immediate pressure on roads, ports and public spaces.
Recent measures have begun to address that. A berth-allocation system limits cruise arrivals to a maximum of 8,000 passengers per day, with criteria including length of stay and lower-season activity, while passenger flows are managed to reduce concentrated peaks. A national cruise fee, set at €20 per passenger disembarking in Santorini during the summer high season, directs revenue towards local communities, port infrastructure and tourism.
“We don’t dislike cruise ships,” Markos says. What he questions is a model in which visitors arrive for three hours, rush through the island for a photograph and leave before there has been time to understand where they are.
“Better infrastructure means better lives for locals and a better experience for visitors.”
The Santorini he describes extends far beyond its most photographed viewpoints. He talks about crossing to Thirasia, exploring the volcano and hot springs, visiting wineries and villages, and Akrotiri—the prehistoric settlement he calls the “Pompeii of the Aegean,” much of which remains unexcavated.
We encountered that same depth with a private driver arranged by Canaves Collection, travelling beyond the familiar Oia–Fira circuit to Megalochori, Profitis Ilias, the volcanic landscape and small vineyards rooted in Santorini’s mineral-rich soil. Within a relatively short distance, the island reveals layers of faith, agriculture, geology and generations of life around the caldera that are easily missed on a compressed itinerary.
Beyond the most photographed spots, Santorini offers layers of cultures, geology and agriculture. Beyond the most photographed spots, Santorini offers layers of cultures, geology and agriculture. Beyond the most photographed spots, Santorini offers layers of cultures, geology and agriculture. Beyond the most photographed spots, Santorini offers layers of cultures, geology and agriculture. Beyond the most photographed spots, Santorini offers layers of cultures, geology and agriculture. Beyond the most photographed spots, Santorini offers layers of cultures, geology and agriculture. Beyond the most photographed spots, Santorini offers layers of cultures, geology and agriculture. Beyond the most photographed spots, Santorini offers layers of cultures, geology and agriculture.
“As of last year, the island is very, very different,” Markos tells me. “I live here. I know what I’m talking about.”
His argument is ultimately about the quality of tourism as much as its volume: encouraging visitors to stay longer, explore more widely and allow a broader range of communities and businesses to participate in the value tourism creates.
That thinking also shapes his approach to sustainability. Reducing single-use plastics matters, but Markos considers such measures only one part of a much larger responsibility.
“Plastic straws and single-use plastics are important, but they’re only the surface. What about how you build? What about green buildings?”
“Greener buildings can mean a higher cost to build, but a lower cost to operate.”
He points to the systems beneath a property: energy use, building management, solar power and recovering heat generated by air-conditioning systems to produce hot water. Canaves has been moving away from fossil fuels across its properties in favor of electricity and solar energy. Such investments can cost more initially while reducing operating costs over time.
On a small island, sustainability is also social. Businesses that benefit from a destination have a responsibility to reciprocate: using local products, supporting and training people within the community, contributing to local institutions and considering the wider impact of how they build and operate.
That responsibility begins even earlier, with what is permitted to be built in the first place.
When I ask what must be protected over time, even at the cost of growth, Markos goes immediately to development controls.
“Strict building permits and clear guidelines are the only way to preserve a destination. When development outpaces regulation, the problem only gets bigger.”
Santorini, he believes, has become more conscious of those pressures. His greater concern is for other Greek destinations developing at speed, where regulation may struggle to keep pace with investment.
“If you wait, then the problem is just becoming bigger. We need to move faster.”
Santorini no longer needs to prove its desirability. The issue now is how its success can strengthen rather than overwhelm the island, from the way visitors move through it to the infrastructure, communities and development decisions that will shape what comes next.
The Value of Greek Hospitality
When our conversation turns from Santorini to Greece more broadly, Markos begins with something he considers almost instinctive.
“Hospitality is in our blood.”
For him, Greek hospitality predates the hotel industry. It is part of the way Greeks welcome people, feed them and take pleasure in sharing where they come from. That instinct is inseparable from the country itself.
“A Greek summer in the Greek Islands is unbeatable.”
He talks about being on the water, reaching hidden beaches by boat, the architecture, the clarity of the sea, and how islands separated by relatively short distances can possess entirely different landscapes, cultures and ways of life. There is no single Greek island experience to reproduce, and that individuality is part of what continues to draw travelers back.
It has also drawn many of the world’s leading luxury hotel groups to Greece. Markos does not regard their arrival as a threat to independent Greek hospitality.
“The big brands do fantastic work.”
He points to the investment they bring, their international distribution and their ability to promote Greek destinations across the world. Where he draws the distinction is in what ownership brings to a hotel.
“The personality, passion and philosophy of a family-owned business can not be replicated by a big brand.”
Family ownership changes the way decisions are made. Financial performance matters, but it is rarely the only consideration. The owners are personally tied to the property, the destination and what will eventually pass to the next generation. Taste, reputation, relationships and a sense of responsibility enter the equation alongside return on investment.
That is where Markos locates the “soul” he associates with independent hospitality: in the personality, passion and philosophy of the people whose lives are connected to what they create.
Yet he sees no contradiction between protecting that value and welcoming international operators.
“We can offer both products. It’s up to the guests to decide.”
The two bring different strengths. International groups can provide capital, systems, distribution and global reach; independent Greek hotels offer something shaped from within the culture, where ownership and place remain personally connected. Greece can benefit from both. Its enduring advantage lies in what originates here, the instinct to host, the individuality of each island, and the personal connection between the people behind a hotel and the people they welcome.
“Every little island is another philosophy, another culture, another architecture.”
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A Question of Continuity
Forty years into the Canaves story, continuity has never meant keeping things unchanged.
Markos tells me about guests who return three times in a single summer, and others whose relationship with Canaves stretches across ten, eleven or twelve years. In 2025, one guest returned after first knowing the family’s hotels in the 1980s and 1990s, a relationship reaching back almost to the beginning of Canaves’ forty-year history.
He found the encounter deeply moving.
By then, the Canaves that the guest returned to was no longer the one they had first known. The properties had evolved, and Oia had transformed around them. Yet the relationship remained.
That may be the clearest measure of continuity as Canaves moves forward. Its identity will depend less on a particular setting than on the instincts that have sustained those relationships over time.
The next chapter of Canaves will be written in new places. What Markos wants to carry forward is not a copy of Oia, but the reason people have kept returning to it.
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