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Published: December 10th 2022
Act quickly, think slowly… ~ Greek Proverb
HE SAID... Today we were travelling south from Poros to
Hydra– by ferry.
We had a somewhat sketchy start to the day, thanks in part to a misunderstanding with the carefree and somewhat clueless managers at Hotel Pavlou (our accommodation on Poros), and to our guide’s overly cautious approach to time-management. The hotel’s kitchen was meant to open at 8am, as we were scheduled to leave for Poros Town at 8:30am to catch the ferry to Hydra. It was always going to be tight, but we love tight schedules – especially when they lead to heightened travel experiences. Bright-eyed and bushy tailed with day packs in tow, we settled at one of the outdoor dining tables at 8am. We were ready to go. Hotel Pavlou wasn’t. The kitchen hadn’t opened and the staff hadn’t arrived. Things were not looking good.
By 8:15am, a few staff had wandered in and the kitchen door had opened, but time was against us. When our guide wandered in at 8:20am, she switched into panic mode and headed straight for the kitchen. Voices were raised and arms were flailing. I despondently realised there would be no Greek yoghurt with honey. A friendly
waitress took our breakfast order, but we knew it couldn’t be filled in time. Suddenly, our guide emerged from the kitchen with an armful of cardboard boxes. She pointed to waiting taxis and suggested we run to them post-haste. Which we did. We scurried into a cramped back seat, sped into Poros Town, jumped onto the dock and looked in desperation for our ferry. It was nowhere to be seen. Had we missed it? Had we lost our only chance to get to Hydra?
Of course we hadn’t. We’d arrived in Poros Town before 9am, and our ferry hadn’t even docked. It wasn’t scheduled to leave for Hydra until 9:20am. So why the mad rush? When we opened our cardboard breakfast boxes, we were greeted with what I can only describe as a Jackson Pollock egg and bacon collage. Someone had thrown a barely cooked egg with significant force onto an uncooked pancake, garnished it with overcooked bacon and chucked a small plastic container of viscid peanut butter on top for good measure. It was, even for me, inedible. And that’s saying something. This was far from my romantic vision of Greek yoghurt with honey on a Poros shore
as we gazed at the distant Peloponnese mountains, but at least we hadn’t missed the ferry. So we sat and waited on the dock for half an hour, breakfast-less and bemused.
Anyway, that’s enough on the shenanigans at Hotel Pavlou – for now, at least. When our ferry finally approached the dock, we realised we’d stepped up in the world. This was a high-speed catamaran, and it appeared to be quite luxurious – at least when compared to the larger car, truck and people carriers we’d been travelling on over the last couple of days.
Once on board, we settled into our comfy internal seats and sped off towards Hydra, arriving on the small vehicle-less island a mere 30 minutes later. I loved this trip. As the catamaran glided along the sea water surface, the dry brown landscape of the Greek mainland jutted out of the Saronic Gulf in the distance. Giant wind towers stood tall on top of the arid Peloponnese hills. Despite strong opposition from neanderthal luddites who preach from concrete lawns, I saw these towers as a stunning testament to renewable energy in this ancient country. On our first ever travel journey together, on a
train between Ronda and Granada, we were alone in a cabin. With Ren asleep on my shoulder, I gazed out at the magnificent beauty of these environmental warriors as they prevailed silently on the Spanish hills surrounding us. It’s a memory I’ll forever keep. Every time I see a row of wind towers, it takes me back to that very train. On that very day. 15 years ago.
We cruised into the crowded port of Hydra Town just before 10am, filed off the ferry and immediately wilted in the searing mid-morning sun. The promenade was packed with restaurants, shops and tourists, but on looking above the rooftops, the hills surrounding Hydra Town were barren and empty. Much of the tourist focus of the island seemed to be concentrated on the docks, but beyond the harbour there seemed to be less tourist turmoil and more natural beauty. We were looking forward to exploring the island. Our aim? To get as far from the madding crowd as possible.
Our first adventure, however, was to walk (or more to the point, climb) to the Lazaros Koundouriotis Historical Mansion, which sits high above the harbour, offering extraordinary views of Hydra Town and
beyond. There were many stairs, many narrow alleyways and many white-washed houses with blue shutters and terracotta roofs built into the hillside. This was a truly beautiful place. The further we climbed, the fewer tourists we encountered. It was an exhausting ascent, but it was well worth the effort.
Curated by the Historical and Ethnological Society of Greece, this stunning and spacious mansion is home to paintings and handicrafts by prominent Greek artists, many of whom were local to Hydra (or at least lived here for a while). There were incredible black and white photos of early Hydra life, and there were some particularly engaging paintings. A permanent exhibition of paintings by Periklis Byzantios and his son Constantinos is located in the cool (and somewhat dark) basement, while the first floor is home to the post-impressionistic works of Panagiotis Tetsis, a much-loved local artist. I enjoyed wandering the mansion’s airy rooms, noting all the while that I spent much longer gazing at paintings than I did at handicrafts. Costumes, jewellery, textiles and ceramics are just not my thing.
After marvelling at the view of Hydra’s arid hills from the mansion’s extraordinary deck, we walked a short distance to
the home of Tetsis’ grandparents, where the artist spent much of his childhood. The place was small but very liveable, and I immediately imagined it as a perfect hideaway house for writing, composing and relaxing. Old dusty bottles of mastika stood empty on the open shelves of a large wooden cabinet, and while I enjoyed imagining life as it may have been, I’m not a great fan of contrived historic reconstructions. The attempt to portray a house as if the residents had only just left has always fallen flat for me. Would they really have left that cushion on that couch? Or that chair at that desk? Or that newspaper on that table?
An upstairs room housed a small collection of Tetsis’ final paintings – some of which were unfinished. Tetsis himself bequeathed this house to the Historical and Ethnological Society of Greece, so I can’t comment on the ethics that sit behind the public display of unfinished works. I struggle when unfinished literary works are published, because the decision to do so is often driven by profit rather than the artist’s best interests. Albert Camus’
The First Man is a case in point. He was working on the
novel at the time of his death. The unedited text was published 35 years later. I wish I hadn’t read it, but curiosity got the better of me.
Anyway, I’m off point. I enjoyed walking through Tetsis’ childhood house, and I enjoyed staring at the paintings he’d completed in the upstairs room. There was one of a Greek Orthodox priest sitting on a green couch (which is still in the room). Tetsis has exaggerated the size of the priest’s hands, and it’s impossible to avoid looking at them. The green couch features in a few other paintings, and there’s a very relaxed nature in the way Tetsis portrays his subjects. It feels like he’s chatting with an old friend and painting them at the same time, in this very room. He died in 2016.
We left the house and slowly descended to the bustling harbour area of Hydra Town. The place was packed with tourists, which was a stark contrast to the quiet, peaceful and tourist-free art sanctuary we’d only just left. I think the difficult uphill climb in the searing heat was a step too far for some.
After picking up some drinks, we walked out
of the harbour to Hydronetta, a tiny cafe set above steep rocks on the island’s western coastline. We settled at a small table overlooking the Gulf of Hydra and refreshed with a Greek coffee (me) and an iced chocolate (Ren). It was the perfect place to catch up on our travel notes, with the soft voices of people swimming below drifting in the air. Every so often I would find myself staring across the deep blue water that separated us from the shimmering Peloponnese hills on the horizon. It is for moments like this that we travel.
We left our tiny cliffside cafe in the early afternoon and headed back into the harbour area for lunch. We were dining at Dusko’s Taverna, a leafy and cool eatery set back from the promenade, behind all of the frontline restaurants and shops. As we settled at an outdoor table, I couldn’t stop thinking: ‘What an extraordinary place for a mid-afternoon meal.’
I absolutely loved this old-style, atmospheric little taverna. Large carafes of cold white wine were placed on the table alongside baskets of fresh bread and bowls of Greek salad. On any other day, this would easily have sufficed. But
the main focus of the meal was a traditional Greek dish of lamb, potatoes and cheese wrapped in baking paper and slow cooked in an oven. While the lamb may have been a little tough, it mattered little. This was, without question, an amazing dining experience. I can barely describe how refreshing the wine was. Drawn from the taverna’s own barrels, it was the perfect antidote to the Hydra’s searing hot sun. I was in heaven.
When plates of freshly cut watermelon were placed on the table, one of our fellow travellers shared a Portuguese saying: ‘Food goes to the stomach; dessert goes to the heart’. Ren concurred entirely. I thought of adding: ‘And homemade Greek wine from a barrel goes straight to the soul’, but the original sentiment would’ve been lost.
When our long lunch at Dusko’s eventually wound up in the mid-afternoon, we decided to walk to the other side of the harbour to visit
Jeff Koons: Apollo, an installation of sculptures and other random objects by American artist Jeff Koons. Housed in a restored slaughterhouse on the rocky coast and hosted by the Deste Foundation for Contemporary Art, this exhibition had piqued our interest before
we’d even left Australia. Unfortunately, the exhibition space had closed by the time we arrived. However, we were still able to stand beside the iconic
Apollo Wind Spinner, an enormous bronze sculpture of Apollo that sits above the slaughterhouse and spins in the breeze.
It would be an understatement to say it was hot. There was no shade at the slaughterhouse, and the searing mid-afternoon sun was merciless. We were wilting fast, so it was time to retrace our steps to Hydra Town. We needed to get out of the sun as quickly as possible.
At some stage during this return journey, I saw the logo
ilovehydra. I have no memory of seeing this, but I jotted it down in my notebook – between my last slaughterhouse entry and my next Hydra Town entry. It may have been on someone’s t-shirt, or possibly on someone’s bag. It may have been graffitied on a wall or featured on a tourist brochure. I have no idea where I saw it, but it had enough impact for me to record it, because I agreed wholeheartedly with its intent. We’d been on the island less than six hours, and we simply loved
the place.
On arriving back in the bustling harbour area, we settled at a table on the promenade and refreshed with some cold drinks – a beer for me and an
affogato (a shot of espresso poured over a scoop of vanilla ice cream) for Ren. The place was called The Cool Mule, and while the service didn’t really live up to the establishment’s name, it was a relief to get out of the sun. With our energy restored, we retraced our steps from earlier in the day and made our way around the island’s western coastline until we chanced upon a tiny place called Techne Restaurant. Set high above the sea on a path cut into the hillside, Techne offered amazing views over the Gulf of Hydra. We sat outside and worked on our travel notes, mesmerised by the deep blue water below us and the arid Peloponnese hills on the horizon.
Our time on Hydra was drawing to a close. We left Techne in the early evening and made our way back to the harbour area along a beautiful wide stone path. With half an hour to spare, we sampled some local almond sweets before boarding
the catamaran to Poros at 7:30pm. Having only spent nine hours on Hydra, we left with heavy hearts. It was such an amazing place, and there was so much more of the island to explore. Time will always be the enemy of travel.
On arriving back in Poros Town, we wandered the promenade for a while before settling at Poseidon Restaurant for dinner. This upmarket place was located right on the waterfront, and the atmosphere was amazing. The menu was also amazing, which made for some difficult decisions. Luckily, we chose well. In the balmy night air, we enjoyed the following:
> Greek salad (I’ll never tire of the freshness of this dish – beautiful tomatoes, incredible feta, crunchy capsicum, raw red onion and cucumber)
> Octopus carpaccio (this was a revelation – the octopus was amazing, but the taste was amplified exponentially by a local olive oil dressing)
> Fried zucchini with tzatziki (these chip-like fries melted in your mouth – but when they were dipped in the tzatziki, the taste went to a whole new level).
I enjoyed the meal with a small bottle of Mavrakis ouzo, sourced locally from Argos on the Peloponnese peninsula. It
was an amazing accompaniment to an amazing meal. And the meal was an amazing conclusion to an amazing day.
It was time to retire. We were travelling to Nafplio (close to Argos) on the Peloponnese peninsula the following morning, and we had a reasonably early start. We jumped into a taxi and sped back to Hotel Pavlou, arriving around 10pm.
I was hoping not to share any further shenanigans from Hotel Pavlou, but there is a final chapter I need to divulge. I promise it will be the last. As we walked past the reception desk, we were told that our laundry had been returned. I was pleasantly surprised they’d managed to pull this off, and it was a relief to know we could pack tonight in readiness for the following day. However, my relief quickly turned to embarrassed horror when we discovered our clothes had been packaged in a large plastic bag with a fellow traveller’s clothes. A younger female traveller. Our only option was to tip all of the clothes out onto a table and sort them there and then. Oh no! How was I going to extract my undies…? 😄
There was, of course,
a lot of laughter involved. My father often reminded me how important it is to laugh at yourself. Often. It was a personality trait he cherished. At times like these, I always think of Dad. He would have been lost in laughter; barely able to speak. I managed to rescue all my undies!
SHE SAID... I woke up quite tired on our first morning in Poros, but perked up considerably when we started discussing our day trip to the island of
Hydra (pronounced EE-Dra).
We dropped off a big bag of laundry at Hotel Pavlou’s reception, then proceeded to the hotel breakfast area at 8am. We knew we only had 30 minutes for breakfast before we had to catch pre-booked taxis to the port and board a ferry to Hydra. However, with no sign of movement in the kitchen, we walked across the road to look at the beach in front of our hotel. I was very surprised to see a beautiful big eucalyptus tree providing shade for the rows of sunbeds. For me, eucalyptus trees are so synonymous with home that I always find it very weird when I see them growing in countries so
far from Australia.
On returning to the breakfast area at about 8:10am and seeing the staff only just arriving for work, we started getting a bit apprehensive about the breakfast situation. When Georgia (our group leader) eventually came downstairs at 8:20am and realised that the hotel had dropped the ball, she went into overdrive. We heard a ‘passionate’ discussion in the kitchen but had no idea what was going on. I avoided the argy-bargy by focussing on trying to photograph the very striking hotel cat – he looked like he’d been drawn by a Disney animator! 😊
Ten or so minutes later, when we had just received our cups of tea and glasses of juice, Georgia rushed out of the kitchen with bags of takeaway containers. We were hustled into the waiting taxis in a state of utter confusion. To Liz and Dani’s great amusement, I moaned about my abandoned cup of tea all the way to the port. We settled in on benches on the quay and checked out our picnic breakfast of bread, bacon, fried eggs, cheese, pancakes and peanut butter. It sounds good and it didn’t look too bad either, but it really wasn’t great.
For those who believe that you can taste food cooked with love, there was zero love in the making of this meal. I seriously hate wasting food, but sadly most of the undercooked contents of my breakfast ended up in the bin. And I was still bemoaning my forsaken cup(s) of tea. 😞
After 20 minutes, our Hellenic Seaways catamaran arrived. It was a very fast catamaran, and those who hadn’t found their allocated seats by the time we took off nearly ended up on their bums. The staff certainly seemed to run a tight ship (excuse the pun). 😉
The 30-minute trip went by very quickly, but I used the time to finally catch up on two days of travel notes; albeit in dot points. I really loved this ferry trip – the staff were excellent, the seats were plusher than those on most budget airlines, and the toilets were great.
Speaking of toilets, Liz and Dani (who had travelled together on a previous trip) had a public toilet rating system that we thought was an excellent idea. Frankly, I can’t believe we hadn’t thought of this system earlier, and we have since adopted it ourselves!
Toilets are rated out of 5, where 1 is ‘extremely gross’ and 5 is ‘posh hotel quality’. The Hellenic Seaways catamaran toilets scored a very decent 4 for being clean and having sensor taps. Mind you, the scale should probably start at 0 to take into account a few toilets around the world that have been of the ‘do not use if you value your physical and/or mental health!’ type. 😱
We were very excited about our visit to Hydra. I had liked everything I’d read about this tiny island, and when stepping off the catamaran at Hydra Town my first impression was extremely positive. Although it would probably be much more accurate to say I was buzzing with excitement. 😊
Hydra Town is centred around a small but busy horseshoe shaped harbour, and it is incredibly charming. There are large stone buildings built into the rocks on the docks, and pretty whitewashed houses clinging to hillsides that cascade down to the water. We had plans to explore other parts of the island, but first we walked around the marble-paved waterfront. This area was absolutely packed with restaurants and shops, some of which were in what looked like
old shipping warehouses.
On a not-so-great note, it was sad seeing a line of donkeys and mules awaiting their cargo. Motorised and wheeled vehicles are not allowed on the island (not even bicycles), and anyone who can’t or doesn’t wish to walk to their hotel or restaurant, hops on a donkey. The donkeys looked healthy enough from afar, but on looking at them more closely every time we walked past, there were tell-tale signs of lameness and saddle soreness. Even though I’m happy to report that we only saw one tourist using a donkey, we saw many mules overloaded with luggage.
The other means of transporting luggage (and other general cargo) through the steep streets was on large carts pushed by burly looking men. There were also water taxis which operated to the other parts of the island. And I found out later that the council runs a couple of service trucks for garbage collection etc.
It’s very apparent that Hydra was (and probably still is) a very prosperous place. It appears most of the money came from marine ventures. As a result, there are many old mansions in Hydra Town, and we were going to visit
the Lazaros Koundouriotis Historical Mansion which is now a house museum.
We turned away from the water and walked through picturesque
plateies (squares) crammed with tavernas, past cute little shops in narrow back alleyways, and up steep stone steps… after which the quaint houses started. The Koundouriotis Mansion sits high on the hill on the western side of the harbour, and I loved the walk to it. It was a lovely way to get a feel for the residential part of the island with its beautiful intertwined local stone houses… some with full washing lines and others draped in bright bougainvillea. It felt like walking through a postcard from Greece! 😊
The views of Hydra from the Koundouriotis Mansion were stunning, but the views of the various aspects of the ochre-coloured mansion itself were also equally beautiful! We walked up the many steps to the imposing stone forecourt, and then entered the stately house.
Lazaros Koundouriotis had been a rich and powerful man, and the largest shipowner in Hydra. It’s thought that he was the main financier of the Greek War of Independence in 1821. The romance of the mansion is further enhanced by the claim that
many key individuals of that time met in the mansion when organising the Greek Revolution.
The mansion was built in the late 18th century and donated to the State by the family in the late 20th century; it’s now a branch of the National Historical Museum. I’ve had mixed experiences with ‘houses turned into museums’, but this one was curated absolutely brilliantly. The architecture and interior decor of the house was itself quite exquisite, but my interest was further captured by the exhibitions in various rooms that showcased the period of the house as well as the modern era of Hydra.
The mansion is set on three levels, and we entered on the ground level which features the Koundouriotis family life and heirlooms. There’s a grand portrait of Lazaros (with his trademark eye-patch), other family paintings, antique furniture, and beautiful crockery in the kitchen.
Slightly incongruously, curtained off from the everyday rooms and household items, were the very unusual mixed-media works of Vangelis Kyris and Anatoli Georgiev. Titled
Raiment of the Soul, I can only describe the work as photos of people in traditional costumes, with fabric elements and embroidery sewn directly onto the photos. I was
unusually drawn to this, because it had skilfully turned an item of traditional clothing (and the photograph of that item) into a piece of art. I assume the needlework techniques used were the same as in the creation of the original costumes. It was also unusual to see traditional costumes modelled and photographed in such a bold contemporary way. The 3-D effect of this work was very beautifully captured by excellent lighting.
On the first floor there were more folk art and traditional costumes (but these were displayed in the stock standard fashion using mannequins). There were also cabinets of old jewellery and ancient ceramics. And finally, in the basement cellars there were beautiful modern paintings by Periklis and Constantinos Byzantios. Alongside these artworks was a temporary exhibition titled
Robert McCabe’s HYDRA 1950s-1960s, which contained stunning photos of Hydra and other Saronic Gulf islands.
I absolutely loved this mansion and couldn’t stop taking photos of it (both inside and outside)! I had seen a small write up of the mansion in the Lonely Planet Guide but hadn’t taken much notice of it. So I was extremely happy that Georgia had highly recommended it and taken us there. This
is when the local knowledge we get from Intrepid’s local leaders shines through. 😊
I was still distracted by the Koundouriotis Mansion when Georgia mentioned there was another house museum further up the hill; so, we followed her through yet more pretty walkways and stunning alleyways, past a lot more whitewashed stone houses… and meandered into the very heart of the residential quarter.
We entered the door of a pretty white house with calming sage-green and grey-blue trim. It was known as the Tetsis Home and Studio, and is also part of the National Historical Museum. It had once belonged to the grandparents of the famous painter Panagiotis Tetsis. The house is supposed to be a typical Hydriot home of the 19th century, which was used for the family’s business of making traditional candles, as well as a grocery shop and tavern. Tetsis had lived in the small house at various points in his later life, and had also converted a beautiful light filled upstairs room into his studio.
As house museums go, for me this was very much on the other end of the spectrum to the Koundouriotis Mansion. It represented the overdone and exaggerated nature
of ‘in situ’ house museums that I disliked – it was literally packed to the beams with everything from that era. There was hardly any space to walk between rooms, and it definitely didn’t feel like a genuine representation of how they would have actually lived.
On a positive note, I liked the art studio with Tetsis’ paintings. I didn’t particularly like his style of thick and heavy brushstrokes (which pull me out of the painting) but I was captivated by the relaxed nature of his subjects – it felt intimate. And I loved the very majestic ginger tabby cat who had commandeered the steps to the studio and wouldn’t move for anyone. 😊
We had a whole day in Hydra, so we wanted to find a place to chill out in for a couple of hours until lunch. We walked uphill on the west side of the harbour to Hydronetta – an absolutely gorgeous multi-level cafe/restaurant built into the cliffs. A few of the group went swimming off the cement platform at the base of the cafe, while Andrew and I settled into the small deck on the top-most level. It was an incredible place. We ordered
drinks (Greek coffee for Andrew, and an iced chocolate for me) and just absorbed the scenic atmosphere of the place. It was so beautiful that I really couldn’t’ stop gawking at my surrounds and the sparkling Gulf of Hydra. Most of the group joined us at some point in-between swimming and shopping breaks. 😊
We eventually walked back to our meeting point on the waterfront, and headed off to an included group lunch at Dusko’s Taverna. This was a little hidden gem of a place behind the waterfront area. It had a large shady courtyard where we sat down for a meal of delicious
lamb kleftiko (lamb baked with potatoes, onions, peppers, tomatoes, garlic, oregano and cheese). The name
kleftiko comes from the word
klefets (similar to the English klepto-), who were bandits. Apparently, this dish originated when the bandits would steal meat from the villages and cook the stolen meat in sealed underground ovens in their forest hideouts. The modern version is baked in a secure foil or baking paper package, which seals in the juices.
Our
lamb kleftiko was served with a Greek salad, bread and house white wine. Even though the lamb wasn’t as melty-soft
as I thought it would be, it didn’t matter one iota because the dish was still extremely tasty; plus, the company was fun, and the laidback courtyard setting was enchanting. There are times in life when the whole is much greater than the sum of its component parts (apologies to Aristotle), and this was one of those times. We ate until we couldn’t eat anymore, and then the waiters brought out plates of complimentary watermelon. It was the perfect dessert after that hearty meaty meal.
We’d just shared in the magic of a long lazy lunch… in the shade of an ancient wisteria… on a warm Greek island afternoon… and I was brimming with happiness. 😊
This is probably a good time to address the Leonard Cohen / Hydra connection. Hydra was a magnet for artistic types in the 1950s and ‘60s, and even all these years later, I can absolutely see its attraction. Leonard Cohen frequented Dusko’s Taverna when he lived on the island, and like many other places, they have a wall of photos to prove it.
There are also claims that Cohen made his debut performance at the taverna (as do other bars), and
possibly also wrote a song about the place. I haven’t checked out these factoids; but on a tiny island where the locals seem to have a genuine love of ‘their’ Leonard Cohen, and also openly exploit his name for tourist dollars, it’s hard to separate fact from fiction. There are reports of passionate/crazy Cohen fans turning up at the doorstep of the house he lived in (now owned by his sons) and reading his poetry out loud… so it’s not surprising that the local businesses are trying to cash in on that frenzy.
A few of us walked to the east of the harbour to a gallery space called the Old Slaughterhouse. I’d read that it was showing an exhibition by the renowned artist Jeff Koons. Sadly, however, our long lunch had thwarted us. The exhibition had closed at 1pm. Fortunately our walk in the hot sun wasn’t totally in vain, as we could still admire his gigantic golden Apollo sun installation on the roof of the building. We’d seen the sun’s ‘rays’ spinning in the wind earlier, but as we stood beside the sculpture, there wasn’t even a whisper of a breeze to trigger the spin.
It
was also interesting to note that this side of the harbour wasn’t as built up at the rest of the area. It offered us a glimpse of the dirt roads and rural lands of the island.
We walked back to the waterfront in the searing heat, trying to hug the little bits of shade on the road wherever we could. I actually think calling the heat ‘searing’ isn’t doing it justice… an ‘inferno’ might be a closer description!
We stopped at the Cool Mule Homemade Ice Cream and Coffee Bar for cooling beers and
affogatos (a shot of espresso poured over a scoop of vanilla ice cream). Our little group had been getting along really well, and a good indicator of this was that we were choosing to hang out together even when we didn’t have to. When you meet people who are genuinely lovely, have a great sense of humour and a similar zest for getting to know the world… we tend to have a lot to talk about. Six of us sat there chatting and enjoying life, until something that hadn’t yet happened in our time in Greece happened – the waitress asked us to pay
the bill in a gentle nudge to move us on from a highly sought-after waterfront table. I totally understood and respected this, but it was also an indicator that we were somewhere very touristy. We had wanted to keep exploring anyway, and this was the push we needed to get back out there in the hot sun.
The group then split up with some going shopping, and others heading back for more swimming. Andrew and I walked beyond Hydronetta, past the old windmills, and on to the quieter western part of the island. We settled in at Techne Restaurant which sat in an old building on a sweeping bend of the clifftop road. The restaurant had a few terraces with views, and we chose to sit on the side of the building with views of both the hills and the sea. Andrew ordered a lemonade and I had a pineapple, coconut and lime juice; and we started writing some travel notes.
We were far enough from the harbour that the only sounds we heard were the gentle chatter of our fellow patrons (all speaking Greek), the crashing of waves on the rocks, and the boats chugging past below
us. It was Greek island perfection… well, until two very drunk and loud Americans sat next to us and absolutely killed the atmosphere. We had been told that public drunkenness is very rare among locals, and it explained why we weren’t the only ones giving them evil side-eyes. Andrew and I just about cheered when the louder slurrier one eventually announced that she was going do some shopping. And just like that, we all got our serenity back. 😊
As golden hour approached, we started our walk back down to the waterfront. It took a lot longer than it should have, because not only were there stunning photo opportunities every few metres, there were also many friendly cats who needed some love.
On approaching the harbourside, we could see that the golden light made certain as-yet-unnoticed aspects of Hydra Town really stand out. We had to stop at the top of the hill and take it all in – the stone breakwaters, the clocktower and spire of the monastery, the awnings of the waterfront cafes – were all glowing in that soft light. This tiny island of Hydra was more stunning in reality than I could have ever
imagined.
Even though it had only been a day trip from Poros, we’d crammed in a lot. I truly loved our time in beautiful Hydra, but it wasn’t somewhere I’d want to visit for an extended period. The sheer number of tourists plus the wealth being splashed around (and catered for) just isn’t my thing. In some aspects it reminded me of the small island of Capri in southern Italy, but with a much friendlier and delightful atmosphere.
As I mentioned earlier, our days had been so full since we left Athens that the writing of my travel notes had been neglected. The best I had managed was to scribble down dot points… and these are some of what I wrote on Hydra:
> hypnotic and energetic;
> sun-baked earth and sparkling sea;
> beautifully clear light.
And in hindsight I would also add:
> picturesque and photogenic beyond measure! 😊
While we waited for our ferry back to Poros, Georgia shared a box of
amigdalota with us – it’s a gooey ground almond sweet that’s very local to Hydra. I love almond flavoured food and I also love anything sweet, but that confection was way
too over the top even for my taste. It probably would have been perfect if I’d had a cup of strong black tea to cut through the layers of sweetness.
We caught an Alphalines catamaran back to Poros. This was a slick ferry operation, and they must have prided themselves on keeping to their schedule. There was a statuesque blonde woman in a smart black dress and high heels running proceedings, and she clearly wanted us to board with lightning speed… if you didn’t walk up the gangplank fast enough, you got hustled; if you didn’t already have your mask on, you got heckled; once inside, if you stood still for even one minute to figure out where your seat was, you got yelled at!
We were all frazzled, but we also saw the funny side of it and couldn’t help laughing. It had been a most fabulous day on another gorgeous Saronic Gulf island, and not even this overdressed bossy-boots could bring us down. I’m overstating the point of course, because when not yelling at the passengers, she seemed to be a very affable team member. I was still intrigued by her choice of attire though. I
could only guess that she was going to a cocktail party after work. 😄
Back in Poros, the sea air had sharpened our appetites and we were ready for dinner. Georgia had booked us a table at Poseidon – a local family-owned restaurant on the waterfront that’s very popular with the locals as well as the yachties. We sat outside in their large paved forecourt and enjoyed the best dish of our time in Greece so far – an octopus carpaccio! It came swimming in almost neon green olive oil (the very first press of the first olive harvest), lime, chives, fleur de sel and scattered with fresh pink peppercorns. It was simply divine. We also shared a Greek salad and some more-ish zucchini (courgette) chips. We were later told that the restaurant owners are third generation fishermen who only serve seafood caught from their own boat.
The service was prompt and efficient for such a large and busy establishment. And what I thought were small table lights, turned out to do double-duty as signals to the waiting staff. The white tubes turned red when you flipped them over and acted as a way to attract our waiter’s
attention. How ingenious is that? The meal ended with complimentary frozen
limoncello (lemon liqueur) in shot glasses. 😊
Back at Hotel Pavlou, we suffered the idiot bartender’s behaviour one last time to buy some water for the night. We also had to pick up our laundry that we’d dropped off that morning. When we walked into the reception area, I noticed Dani looking a bit shocked. My first guess was that the laundry hadn’t returned and we’d have to leave the island early the next morning with only half our clothing! The reality wasn’t that dramatic, but ‘twas equally alarming.
The receptionist was extremely apologetic, but it turned out the laundry service had done all our laundry as one big load, and we were now faced with the awkward task of picking our individual items out of a communal pile. The next ten minutes were as traumatic as they were hilarious! We already had a great relationship with Dani, but did we really need to get to know her this intimately? Or vice versa? Hahaha, I’m kidding of course. Well, kind of. There was only one thing to do – laugh hysterically through the embarrassment of trying to
decide which black underwear was whose (and thank our lucky stars that no one had any questionable items in the pile!). Ah… all I can say is thank goodness it was someone like Dani who shared a very similar sense of humour to us.
This was our last night on Poros island and it had been an extremely enjoyable visit. Our only real gripe had been with Hotel Pavlou being further than ideal from Poros Town (or even the smallest of shops or cafes). The hotel staff hadn’t done much to endear themselves to us in other ways either. However, as it turned out, we were hardly there during the day anyway.
The food in Poros had been a particular highlight. In fact, every single meal we’d had (apart from the hotel breakfast) had been fabulous. However, without a doubt, the absolute highlight of our stay on Poros had been the three-hour cooking class with Dora at the Odyssey Cooking Centre. It was probably one of the best cooking classes we’ve experienced in all our travels. 😊
Next we travel west to Nafplio on the Peloponnese peninsula, the first capital of Greece.
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Chris L.
non-member comment
Eedra
The variety of experiences you sought despite the hot weather is commendable. You are making the most of every minute.