Ashtanga Yoga Retreat · Serifos, Greece · June 2027

Maybe you practise alone at home and quietly wonder whether you're doing it right. Maybe you've been stuck at the same point in the sequence for so long you've stopped expecting it to change. Or maybe you've meant to try Ashtanga for years, and a class after work has never quite turned into a practice.

Mornings are Mysore style. Everyone practises the sequence at their own pace, and I come to each of you in turn. That's why a complete beginner and someone deep in their practice can share the room without either one missing out. Groups are small enough that I know everyone's practice by Wednesday.

In the afternoon workshops we slow down and look at what the mornings brought up. We take the practice apart: how a posture is built, what the breath is doing, why one particular moment keeps catching you. Then you put it back together on your own mat the next day. Other afternoons are for philosophy.

I took my first Ashtanga class in Athens in 2004. For a long time it was just the thing I did before work — I was a lawyer then — and it stayed that way until a hard period in my life made me look at the practice properly. In 2017 I went to Mysore for the first time. I came home, left my job, and started teaching full-time.

I still go back to the Sharath Yoga Centre every year — because I'm still learning, and because practising alongside the teachers there is where much of that learning happens. I would rather teach something I am still learning than something I stopped learning ten years ago.

My approach is rooted in the traditional Mysore method. But I don't believe tradition has to make yoga rigid, intimidating or inaccessible.

What I want instead is to help you understand the practice, build solid foundations, and work in a way that's intelligent and respectful of your body. Some days that means encouraging you further. Other days it means helping you see that doing less is the wiser choice.

Whether you arrive on your first Primary or halfway through Second, you arrive wanting the same thing — for someone to look closely and tell you honestly what they see.

Serifos is one of the quieter Cycladic islands. It's only two hours by ferry from Athens, yet it has kept its character: rocky hills, a white village on the hilltop, a harbour that moves at its own pace.

And then there are the beaches: wide, generous bays with clear water, where in early June you'll often have the sand almost to yourself. Four of them are an easy walk from the hotel — the nearest two in 5–10 minutes, the other two in 15–20.

There is one small port town, the old town of Chora above it, and not much else. There's plenty to explore, and nothing you have to do.

On Serifos, slowing down happens by itself.