Casa Albar

Two palettes do the work: bone and ink by day, night blue and pale bone by night. A Sunset section turns one into the other, and the text flips colour at the exact point where it would stop being readable.

Cormorant Garamond, with italics woven in, gives the old house its voice. Geist keeps the data and the prices clean. The nine rooms run along a horizontal corridor, one card each, none of them alike.

The motion follows the same idea: three hero photos that melt into each other, big images with parallax, line drawings that sketch themselves on the plan cards and a menu that drops like a curtain. If the visitor asks for less motion, the site stays in daylight, still and complete.

It also works as a hotel site. Pick your nights and it tells you which rooms are free and roughly what the stay costs, depending on the season.

The footer is the last hour of the day: a sky full of stars, the moon in its real phase for tonight and the current time at the house, with whatever is happening there right now.