He promised the water issue would be solved. I asked if he had a plan B—of course not. The problem was fixed later that day, but only temporarily.
Two days later, Peeping Tom was back in the garden.
Our renovation had dragged on for months after a major water leak, and when the contractors announced yet another delay, we ran for the sun. It was September, Europe was crowded, and Ikos Porto Petro looked like the perfect escape—no dust, no builders, just calm.
We always promise to be fair and honest when we write, even if we get something for free like this time. More on that later.
All-inclusive is not really for us, but we had seen Ikos appear on social media more times than we could count. It looked fantastic, and when we found a villa with a private pool available, we decided to give it a try.
Ikos markets itself well: a five-star, all-inclusive resort on Mallorca’s southeast coast. Six restaurants, five of them curated by Michelin-starred chefs, and 300 wine labels, free airport transfers, a Dine Out programme that lets you eat at selected local restaurants, and even a free Tesla to borrow for a day.
A sprawling resort of 315 rooms (and still expanding) with around 750 employees—probably more than live in Porto Petro itself. We booked a Residential Villa with pool, which automatically includes the Deluxe Collection with a dedicated concierge, premium drinks, and complimentary massages.
It promised a week of effortless sunshine and calm. On paper, it looked perfect. Reality had other plans.
The resort sits between two small coves. One end overlooks Porto Petro’s harbour and marina, the other a small public beach. It is a scenic spot, framed by pine, olive, and palm trees, and nearly every room has a sea view.
From the back, though, when you pass by in the buggy, some buildings look oddly like a parking garage—two-faced in a way. Still, the grounds are tidy, and the place feels cared for.
The airport pickup was flawless. A representative met us and guided us to a waiting Mercedes. The driver was polite, the ride smooth. Check-in took place at the bar beside the lobby with the Deluxe Concierge, who handed us Champagne and set up a WhatsApp group for our stay. Lunch followed and soon after, the villa was ready.
First impression: excellent.
Fresco Bar
Before arrival, Ikos floods you with emails. Too much information, really. It felt less like a holiday booking and more like joining a cult.
One thing does matter, though — book everything in advance. Your dinners, spa treatments, Tesla, etc. They love their app (download it before you go) and their WhatsApp system, but do not expect much initiative from their side.
We only booked for the first night, assuming we could sort the rest later. Big mistake. The restaurants were already full, which was surprising when the resort wasn’t even in full swing.
Our concierge filled in the rest of the week without asking us, leaving us with a puzzle of dinner slots: either 18:30 with the family crowds or 21:00. Apparently, spontaneity is not part of the Deluxe Collection. Nothing in between, and often not the restaurants we actually wanted.
The villa delivered spacious rooms, cool air conditioning, a comfy bed, a large pool, and plenty of privacy—apart from the pigeons in the olive tree and Peeping Tom.
When we were at the villa, it was rarely quiet. Either noise from neighbouring families or the endless hum of garden maintenance. They really love their leaf-blowing machines; nothing says “relaxing holiday” quite like a two-hour clean-up next to you. At this point, I’m convinced every luxury resort has one employee whose sole mission is to chase a single leaf for hours.
The buggy service deserves special praise. You can message for one or scan a QR code in the room or at the “bus stop”, but usually you don’t need to—they appear like friendly border collies on battery power.
Always smiling, always helpful, and if their buggy is full, another is on its way. They are the bloodstream of the resort. The buggy service deserves its own Michelin Keys.
Room service was 24/7, included, and never more than a 20-minute wait. If you choose the Deluxe Collection, the room service menu is larger—a small but welcome perk. The team did a solid job.
The bars deserve praise too—good service, lively atmosphere, and entertainment most nights with live music or DJs.
Our first morning brought a surprise: no water in the villa. We messaged our concierge. Nothing. Texted again at breakfast. Still nothing. Later, at the lobby—same story. Back at the villa, we asked for buckets of water so we could flush the toilet. Nothing says five-star luxury like that.
We were offered another room for the day to freshen up and use the toilet—on the other side of the resort. No thanks.
At Ikos, you do not check in — you check on.
That same day, a man appeared straight out of the bushes by our pool to take a water sample. No hola, no explanation. He scared my wife half to death.
For a moment, I thought Ikos had added a new surprise activity—Guess Who’s in the Garden? The Do Not Disturb sign hanging on the door clearly meant “please, disturb.”
I asked for a meeting with the GRM (Guest Relations Manager), which turned out to be the Front of House Manager. I was tired—tired of chasing for answers, tired of privacy not being respected.
So, for the first and only time, I told him about Iternitty. Still not sure if that was a good idea, but I was desperate for some peace.
The water solution.
At dinner in The Market buffet, my wife found a piece of transparent plastic tape in her vegetable soup from the children’s buffet. That could have ended badly if a child had swallowed it. Nothing says family-friendly dining like a game of Find the Plastic.
Back at the villa, the power was out. Reception asked if we had put the key card in. It was a fuse, quickly fixed, but the villa took hours to cool down.
As if that was not enough, the morning after that dinner I woke up with a bad stomach and spent the entire day out of action, drinking nothing but rehydration solution. I cannot say for certain it was the food from The Market, but somehow it made sense.
The next day I asked to see the General Manager when it was clear the FOH Manager didn’t care. To his credit, he listened.
He said they were investigating the plastic incident and promised to honour the Do Not Disturb sign.
A bottle of Barolo appeared in our villa that evening. Because nothing says “We value your privacy” like wine diplomacy. At dinner, they served Whispering Angel rosé, one of our favourites. They even offered a private sunset boat trip to a quiet bay. Nice gestures, and a good way to bounce back—but whether they would have done it without knowing about Iternitty, I doubt it.
Goodwill didn’t last long. On check-out day, Saturday morning at 06:30, construction repairs started outside our villa to fix the temporary solution. Pipes, loud voices, banging. So much for sleeping in.
Cala Mondragó
Ikos describes its dining as “a premium gastronomic experience created by Michelin-star chefs.” The reality—nowhere close.
A major issue was the lack of management presence. No one leading the floor, no one checking service—just staff doing their best without direction.
One waiter took our order, then another came minutes later to do the same, and then a third. At one point. Sometimes bread arrived at every table but not ours. Coffee in the morning only appeared after we’d given up asking.
Restaurant Dining by the Sea
The only restaurant we didn’t visit was the Beach Club. The others, including Dining by the Sea (Season and DBS is only for Deluxe guests), were hit and miss. Most dishes felt prefabricated, and service inconsistent.
Anaya, the “Asian” restaurant, had nothing in common with Thai food. Service was sluggish, the food even worse. Probably the worst spring rolls we’ve had.
And that Michelin-starred chef they proudly advertise at Anaya? She’s not Michelin-starred at all. Just another glossy brochure myth.
The Market buffet was chaos at breakfast. Not from guests or children, but staff. Plates slammed, cutlery thrown into bins, chairs dragged instead of lifted. More lunch canteen than luxury resort.
The only fusion here was confusion.
At dinner, bone-dry pork and lamb skewers were “refreshed” by pouring water into the pan. A buffet trick that fools no one. Lazy—and it dries the meat even more.
Our final dinner the last night at Season sealed it. My fillet came with a parsnip purée that tasted of regret, a portion fit for a dollhouse, and a tomato salad with avocado and chilli—fusion gone wrong.
The only fusion here was confusion.Apparently, avocado is sacred at Ikos—it turns up in dishes across nearly all their restaurants.
My wife’s chicken samosa from the kids’ menu contained an actual chicken bone. She spat it out. That was that.
Many guests, we later learned, gave up and went to Porto Petro or Cala d’Or instead. We understand why.
What puzzled us even more were the prices printed in the restaurant and wine menus. Everything is included, so why list them at all? Maybe it is marketing psychology, maybe legal compliance—or just a gentle reminder of how much better you could have eaten elsewhere.
Ikos proudly promotes “more than 300 local & international wine labels selected by the Ikos sommelier.” Sounds impressive—if you never look too closely.
Most bottles retail for under ten euros in the local supermarket, VAT included. I checked several with ChatGPT—embarrassingly cheap.
Then there’s Ikos Private Cellar. It sounds grand, the kind that makes you feel special. In reality, it is budget wine with a premium story attached. These are their biggest mark-up wines, bought chain-wide. Calling it a private cellar is generous—it is more of a community shelf.
We would happily have paid extra for better wines, but that option doesn’t exist. It’s all part of the “all-inclusive luxury,” and quality clearly drew the short straw.
Check-out takes place in the villa, the day before departure, which is convenient. The only thing left to settle was the tourist tax. We were handed gifts—local salt and a bottle of olive oil with a note attached.
A nice gesture, until the bottle vanished later that evening when the maids came for turn-down service. They give, and they take back—quite literally.
The ride to the airport wasn’t the same either. Gone was the sleek Mercedes and friendly driver. Instead, a tired shuttle bus, a silent driver, with 70s music blasting from the stereo. The kind of ride that says, “You’ve paid, now off you go.”
Ikos Porto Petro has a strong concept. The villa was nice, the buggy service brilliant, and most staff genuinely try. But management is the weak point. Communication fails, privacy isn’t respected, and the food and wine don’t live up to the marketing.
And perhaps the biggest disappointment of all—the complete lack of proactivity. At Ikos, you are the one chasing them. You message, you remind, you follow up. They do not. For a resort claiming five stars, that says everything.
For us, this was not five-star luxury. Not even close.
First Time
Mid September 2025
7
Resident Two-Bedroom Villa
Excellent
95%
Room service or one of the breakfast restaurants.
Do not remember, so probably fine.
No
For what it costs, you would expect five stars. We are still looking for them.
Did our review help—or miss the mark? Share your honest view below.
