"My partner and I, both pushing 60 but still game for a bit of adventure, jetted in via a Jet2 package holiday on October 14th, touching down late and rolling out on the 28th. For around £1,100 each (flights, transfers, and full board included), it struck us as a fair deal—nothing extravagant, but enough to chase away the UK autumn blues without mortgaging the house. We're not 5-star snobs; we knew this 4-star spot (complete with that cheeky €10-per-night tourist tax tacked on at check-in) would deliver solid value over sparkle. What we got? A relaxed, if uneven, vibe that earns a solid 7 out of 10 from us. It's more like a polished 3-star in execution—charming location and friendly faces offset by food frustrations and a few finicky facilities. Think easy beach access and hillside serenity for couples who pack patience and walking shoes, but skip it if stairs spell trouble.
Our saga kicked off with a classic red-eye arrival: Jet2's evening flight landed us at Heraklion Airport around 10 PM, and the 50-minute coach transfer zipped us to the hotel by midnight. Exhausted but buzzing with excitement, we were braced for a frosty reception—instead, the front desk surprised us with genuine Cretan hospitality. A small but thoughtful cold buffet awaited in the restaurant: Sliced meats, cheeses, olives, fresh bread, It wasn't lavish, just a plate and a drink each, but it was enough to last us until breakfast. The receptionist, a no-nonsense local with a warm smile, sorted our paperwork in under five minutes, explained the tourist tax (non-negotiable for all 4-stars here), and escorted us up the dimly lit paths to our room. .
That brings me to the hotel's layout, which is both its charm and its curse. Perched on a hillside , the Mediterraneo's white buildings tumble down toward the sea like a mini Santorini knockoff. Mornings meant waking to panoramic views of the Aegean, with boats, yachts and the odd jet ski dotting the horizon—pure magic at dawn. But let's be blunt: This place is a stair-master's dream (or nightmare). Rooms, pools, and restaurants are spread across multiple levels connected by steep, stone steps and snaking paths—After a day out shopping, exploring or walking, the inclines left our calves screaming after a few days. As able-bodied folks, we adapted by treating it like free cardio, but anyone with mobility issues or health concerns will find it highly unsuitable.
Our room—a standard sea-view double on the upper tier—was precisely what the fair price promised: Unpretentious, spotless, and sleepable. We found it had all the required basics: Twin bed, decent mattress, a compact balcony with plastic chairs for sunset cocktails, a mini-fridge, and a wall AC that cooled our room down to a comfortable 16°C when daytime temperature reached 28-32°C and nightime temperature went no lower than 25°C. The bathroom was functional—shower cubicle, basic toiletries (shampoo that lathered okay), and a hairdryer that didn't blow fuses. Housekeeping was a standout: The cleaners, a trio of cheerful Greek women, swept in daily around 10 AM with "Yia sou!" hellos, leaving our room gleaming. We never spotted a speck of dust on the tiled floors or in the wardrobes. Noise? Non-issue—nights were blissfully quiet, no thumping bass from the bar, drunken arguments or singing or slamming doors.
That said, a couple of creature comforts fell short. The single pillow per person was a fluffy yet lumpy disaster, which unfortunately lead to a few neck kinks during our stay. And the shower? A persistent grumble. No matter the hour—dawn rinse or midnight soak—it maxed out at "warmish," never venturing into hot territory. In balmy Crete, it's more annoyance than deal-breaker, but after sandy beach days, a scalding blast is non-negotiable for us.
WiFi deserves a mention too: Free access was limited to hotspots in reception, the pub, and pool bar—spotty at best, dropping mid-scroll. We lounged in the lobby a most evenings, to binge emails or plot day trips. No in-room signal meant zero late-night doom-scrolling, which was accidentally zen, but in 2025? Come on, blanket coverage should be table stakes for a 4-star hotel.
Food and drinks form the review's meatier (pun intended) chapter, and here's where our enthusiasm waned, pushing us out the gates more than we'd budgeted. All-inclusive kicked off strong at breakfast (7:30-9.30 AM): Reasonably good variety with fried and scrambled eggs, yogurt parfaits topped with local honey and grapes, crispy croissants. We fueled up here most mornings, pairing it with sea views—solid 7.5/10, no complaints.
The snack bar (11.00 AM-17 PM) was solidly "ok"—pasta, fries, wraps, and salads that filled the gap without fanfare. Quick service on shaded terrace, perfect for post-swim refuels. But dinner and afternoon tea? Repetitive drudgery that had us eyeing the exit by day five. Dinner (18:30-21.30 PM) cycled through lackluster themes—Greek night, Italian-ish—with a meh selection of overcooked starters (soggy salads, tepid soups) and mains that started service warm at best, cooling to lukewarm under lazy heat lamps. Veggies boiled to mush, rice gluey, and proteins a gamble: Pork chops or souvlaki were passable when offered, grilled with herbs and a yogurt sauce, but beef? Steer clear—disgusting slabs of pure fat and gristle masquerading as "stew" or "roast," chewy and flavorless. Desserts redeemed slightly—chewy loukoumades or fruit platters—but overall, the monotony and subpar quality (especially early birds getting the burnt ends) wore us down. By week two, we'd dined out eight nights, wandering along to the many local restaurants, cafe's and pubs close to the hotel.
Staff painted a patchwork picture, much like the food. Restaurant and snack bar crews were great—attentive waiters zipping plates with smiles. The room cleaners? Absolute gems, their friendliness turning chores into highlights. Reception was reliably "ok"—efficient for taxi hails or general queries, but no frills or flair. Bars were the wildcard: Pool bar daytime was mellow, with some bartenders cracking jokes over pours; evenings at the pub saw a few miserable sorts who met requests with sighs or attitude, like we'd interrupted their siesta. "Double everything," we'd mutter after the first watery round—more on that next.
Speaking of libations, the all-inclusive booze was "nice" in theory—branded lineup of beer, house gin, vodka, and wines from 11 AM to 11 PM—but cripplingly weak. Beers arrived chilled and refreshing in the heat, a fizzy lifeline after hikes, yet diluted like they'd been baptized. Cocktails? We upgraded to doubles routinely (no extra charge) to feel the buzz, and splurged on branded bottles a few times at the bar. It worked for casual sipping, but mixology fans would revolt.
Facilities-wise, the hotel and grounds were very clean—pools sparkling, gardens trimmed, paths swept. The tiny on-site shop, though? Pricey— we bypassed it after stocking up in town. Entertainment was the lowlight: Adult evenings in the amphitheater were terrible—stale bingo, quiz nights with wonky mics. Children's stuff (mini-disco, face painting) spilled over into karaoke fiascos.
The location tipped the scales back up— "ok" in that effortless Greek way, with everything a short stroll away. From the hotel's gate, it's five minutes downhill to a pebbly public beach (clear waters), and another 10 along the sand to Star Beach Water Park—slides for €10 entry if you're feeling playful.
Hersonissos buzzed mildly in October: Lanes of shops hawking, lively tavernas, and pubs with frothy drafts till 1 AM. No grit or crowds, just enough hum to feel connected without overwhelm.
Wrapping up, at 7/10, the Mediterraneo's a fair-value pitstop for hill-tolerant couples chasing affordable Aegean idylls. It nails cleanliness, select staff, and proximity to sands and souvlaki, but stumbles on food freshness, pillow plushness, and shower scorch. More 3-star heart than 4-star polish, it's ideal if your holiday's about the island, not the inn. We'd revisit for the views alone, pillow upgrade requested."
