Our Story

The Legend of Mr. Ottis

Long before the crimson crest of Ottis House gleamed in Athens, there lived a man known only as Ottis.

No one knew where he came from. Some said he appeared from the sea on a moonlit night; others swore he stepped out of the desert winds. Wherever his beginnings lay, he carried with him the air of mystery and the ease of one who belonged everywhere and nowhere.

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Knight and Wanderer

At seventeen, he left behind the ordinary paths of men. He journeyed not for conquest but for curiosity. Wherever he paused—Venetian docks, Carpathian forests, the souks of Damascus—he collected flavors and friendships. He drank saffron wine with Bedouins,

learned secret spice blends from Moorish cooks, and once bartered a silver spur for a recipe of Persian rose jam.

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The Grand Sojourner

By thirty, Ottis had abandoned battlefields for expeditions of pleasure and discovery. He sailed with Greek captains through wine-dark seas, trekked the Atlas Mountains with musicians and poets, and celebrated harvests in remote valleys. He was welcome at royal courts and farmhouse hearths alike, known for turning every stop into an unforgettable table of stories, music, and wine.

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Athens—A Final, Glorious Pause

In the dawn of the Renaissance, Ottis reached Athens. The city’s marble glow and Dionysian spirit stole his heart. He raised a house not of arms but of friendship and revelry—a salon where philosophers, sailors, and wandering princes shared food and laughter until sunrise.

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The Timeless Host

Legends say he never left. Some claim the gold-leaf bearded face of our crest is his immortal likeness; others whisper he still drifts through Ottis House, nudging corks to pop and conversations to spark.

It is said that those in his presence are touched by luck.

Ottis has the gift of giving people what they truly desire—even if they themselves do not yet know it.