Red Sol: A Modernist Labyrinth Above the Ionian
Built into cliffs, Red Sol reshapes the way architecture interacts with Albania’s rugged coastline.

Dhërmi, a village of raw beauty and steep contradictions, sits wedged between towering mountains and the Ionian’s infinite blue. Here, cliffs drop straight into the sea, roads wind precariously through limestone hills, and stone houses seem more anchored than built—structures that have stood, unshaken, for generations. It is not a landscape that yields easily to the new. But nestled into its slopes, defying convention yet respecting the terrain, is Red Sol Resort—an architectural labyrinth where modernist vision meets the wild edge of Albania.
Designed by the Spanish firm Bofill Taller de Arquitectura, Red Sol unfolds across the hillside in geometric layers, adapting to the sharp inclines and natural contours. The studio, known for its fortress-like structures and intricate spatial compositions, has taken a familiar architectural language and recalibrated it for the Albanian Riviera. The result is a complex of interconnected volumes that feel as if they have been carefully fitted into place rather than built on top of the land.
The resort is structured like a labyrinth. Narrow staircases wind between angular buildings, leading to unexpected terraces and quiet courtyards. Pools appear in recessed spaces, framed by stark, geometric walls. Every pathway seems to lead to an opening—a balcony, a platform, a cutout in the facade—that frames the sea beyond. The sense of enclosure and openness shifts constantly to create a dynamic relationship between the guest and the space.
Rather than the whitewashed minimalism common in Mediterranean resorts, Red Sol embraces earthy, sunbaked hues that pop in color. The materials are raw: textured concrete, stone, untreated wood. The architecture recalls the kasbahs of North Africa and the stepped villages of the Balkans, but it also belongs unmistakably to the modernist tradition. Ricardo Bofill’s influence is evident in the interplay of planes and voids, the manipulation of light and shadow, the way walls seem to float just enough to create a sense of weightlessness.
Despite its sculptural appearance, the resort is designed for movement. Guests navigate it in stages, discovering it piece by piece rather than absorbing it all at once. There is no single vantage point from which the entire structure can be understood. Instead, it unravels in increments—a staircase leading to a hidden terrace, a corridor ending in a panoramic opening. It invites exploration, much like the village of Dhërmi itself, where paths are never quite straight and the next turn always holds a surprise.
While Albania’s Ionian coastline has long seduced travelers, large-scale development has lagged behind. Red Sol signals a shift—not toward unchecked luxury, but toward a thoughtful, design-forward approach to hospitality, where the architecture doesn’t compete with the land, but coexists with it. One thing about Red Sol is that it understands its own precarious position: at the edge of a cliff, between mountain and sea, at the meeting point of past and future.