Advertisement
Published: March 22nd 2023
Time is the soul of everything… ~ Greek Proverb
HE SAID... Today we were exploring the picturesque island of
Mykonos and the sacred island of
Delos.
We woke early to loud public announcements emanating from gargantuan cruise ships that had anchored in the harbour – directly in front of our hotel – during the night. There were two of them, and another joined them during the day. If I lived in Mykonos, I would absolutely detest the cruise ship industry (unless, of course, my income was derived from the influx of cruise ship tourists).
I settled on our terrace and enjoyed the breakfast provisions provided by Aegean Hotel Mykonos. The place was undergoing extensive renovations, and the breakfast room was out of action. I didn’t mind in the least, as the option of breakfasting in the open air with panoramic views of the glistening Aegean Sea was fabulous. I just had to look beyond the cruise ship flotilla. At times I could make out the distant islands of Syros and Tinos behind the monstrous (and monstrously ugly) vessels.
In the mid-morning we walked into Hora, the capital of Mykonos. Our hotel was about one kilometre from Hora (which is also known as Mykonos Town), and
it was a 15-minute walk along busy and hilly harbourfront streets. We’d planned to make a beeline for the iconic windmills on the southern side of Hora, but as Robert Burns so eloquently points out in his poem ‘To a Mouse’:
The best-laid plans of mice and men; often go awry.
Our ‘plan’ was to avoid the heart of Hora by traversing its outer lanes and alleys. By circumnavigating the busier sections of the old town, we would hopefully arrive at the windmills before the cruise ship battalions landed on the shores and swarmed the streets. However, we ended up getting completely lost and disorientated. Which wasn’t a bad outcome at all. In fact, it was a very fortuitous method to explore residential Hora. It just meant forgoing an early visit to the windmills.
We stumbled upon a small amphitheatre on the eastern side of Hora, and it was here that we finally realised we were walking away from – and not towards – the windmills. It didn’t matter, because the suburban lanes and alleys were devoid of tourists. We were free to watch life unfold in this closeknit and beautiful township. Women were chatting in the street,
shopkeepers were opening their doors, children were playing in small courtyards…
When we eventually arrived at the iconic windmills, there were tourists everywhere. The cruise ship battalions had landed and occupied Hora, and the seven windmills had been stormed in the process. Despite the crowds, we managed to capture some great photos of the round whitewashed buildings with pointy thatched roofs and small windows that silently look out over the Aegean Sea, waiting for winds that no longer spin their sails.
After wandering Hora’s labyrinth of picturesque lanes and alleys, we made our way back to the hotel around midday and settled on our terrace, where we enjoyed a simple lunch of rusks, cheese, olives, jerky and sparkling wine – sourced from the basket of provisions provided by the hotel. After catching up on our travel notes, we walked back into Hora in the mid-afternoon. This 15-minute trek was becoming very familiar.
This time, however, our destination was not the township of Hora itself. It was further afield. We made our way to a long jetty on Hora’s waterfront and boarded a small ferry to the sacred island of Delos, which lies in the Aegean Sea off
the south-western coast of Mykonos. The short ferry crossing was reasonably smooth, and it offered great views of Mykonos from the ocean.
We docked at a surprisingly basic jetty on Delos around 4:30pm, walked through the ticket gates and set out on a guided walking tour of the ancient ruins, the vast majority of which lay crumbling on the parched sandy island. As we roamed the flat north-western coast of the windswept island, we visited the following landmarks:
> Sanctuary of Apollo
> Propylaea
> Artemision
> Terrace of the Lions
> Sacred Lake
> Theatre Quarter
> Sanctuaries of the Foreign Gods.
Unfortunately, we ran out of time to climb Mt Kynthos (113m), which is said to offer excellent views across to Mykonos. Why do tour guides have to waffle on so much? Instead, we had to hurry back to the jetty, as the last ferry was scheduled to depart at 7pm sharp. Apparently, if we didn’t get back in time, we’d be left on the island until the first ferry arrived the next day. I took this caution seriously. Warning whistles were being sounded intermittently to herald the impending departure of the ferry, and they worked
a treat. While I knew the ferry crew would never leave us on Delos, the prospect of being stranded on a dark windswept island with silent emotionless statues was enough to extinguish any thought of being late. We arrived back at the jetty just in time.
While the ruins were fascinating, they did not seem to be well curated. In many places on the island, pieces of marble were stacked in piles with no real purpose or meaning – apart from being tidy. That said, I really enjoyed our time on Delos. The ancient sewerage and fresh water systems (aqueducts) were incredible feats of engineering, and I was fascinated by the designs and mosaics of the houses (some of which dated back to the 2nd century BC). I enjoyed meeting the affable resident cats, and the strong winds gusting over the island helped to focus my thoughts.
When the sun slipped below the hills of Rineia (a nearby island), the wind turned cold. It was time to leave. The 30-minute ferry trip back to Hora was a bit rough in places, as the squally wind had picked up quite a lot. Water spray was soaking the windows, and
the ferry was pitching in the choppy sea. A young couple at the front of the ferry were not travelling well, but they managed to keep it together. They were very proud of themselves when we eventually docked in Hora.
We clambered off the ferry and walked straight into Hora’s tangled web of narrow lanes. The striking waterfront town can be a bewildering labyrinth for the uninitiated, but we were starting to know our way around. We settled at an outdoor table at Busulas Restaurant in the mid-evening. It was cold, so the staff handed out rugs to wrap around our shoulders. Ren and I declined the offer, as some of our travel companions were feeling the cold more than others. It was a decision we later regretted…
With the cold sea breeze streaming through Hora’s narrow lanes, we ordered:
> Daily pie (small pies filled with herbs and greens and served with a yoghurt dressing)
> Greek veal stamnas (veal portions and potatoes in a tomato and wine sauce)
The veal dish, which is also referred to as a
kokinisto (braised meat stew with tomato sauce), was superb, as were the small veggie pies. And despite
the cold air surrounding us, I also enjoyed a Mythos beer. It was a fantastic meal, and it complemented a fantastic day.
We walked back to the hotel and settled in our room (with cups of tea in hand) to work on our travel notes. Feeling incredibly relaxed from an exceptional travel day, I moved onto our terrace and rested in the cool midnight breeze. For the first time since arriving on Mykonos, there were no cruise ships lit up like Christmas trees in the harbour in front of us. It was such a liberating feeling.
As I sipped a beer and gazed out over the Aegean Sea, I could hear faint signs of life as the New Port of Mykonos rolled into the night. There were voices in the breeze and indiscernible industrial growls. I loved hearing them, and wondered if I could ever capture the urban hum of this remarkable island. I felt very calm and relaxed in the darkness. It had been yet another fantastic travel day.
SHE SAID... I thought I’d sleep like a baby after travelling to
Mykonos and then exploring the main town of Hora, but it had been
a fitful night. We hadn’t got to bed until after 1:30am and very annoyingly, I kept waking up every hour or so. Our room in the Aegean Hotel had a fabulous view of the Aegean Sea right in front of us. My only consolation every time I stirred awake was that the view through the French doors was pretty spectacular.
The day before I’d been whingeing about our beautiful view being blemished by a dirty big cruise ship that was anchored smack bang in a direct line of sight from our room; and then another one had joined it that evening. Sharon from our group had assured me that cruise ships rarely stay in one port for longer than 24 hours, so I had hoped they’d be gone by today! And Sharon was spot on.
At one point around 6am, our view was blissfully clear! MCS Sinfonia with its capacity of 2,600+ passengers had buggered off in the night. I knew that the even bigger Celebrity Cruise Edge ship (capacity of 3,400+ passengers) was still out there, but it had the decency to anchor out of our line of vision (from inside our room). I fell back into
bed very pleased with myself… as if I had banished that floating monolith with nothing but my sheer willpower. 😄
However, what I hadn’t realised was that an hour later MCS Armonia (also with a massive capacity of 2,600+ passengers) would come merrily sailing in and take the exact spot its twin had vacated. Andrew was already up and warned me that this ship was sailing in. No sooner had he uttered the words that we heard PA announcements from the ship drift right into our room. Not only were they visually polluting our view, but now their PA announcements were causing auditory pollution! They could be heard around the hotel and in all the surrounding streets at 7am in the morning! Big Sigh.
I now realised there was no escaping them, and I really had to learn to live with them… otherwise I would have really lost my mind when Royal Caribbean’s Brilliance of the Seas (with a capacity of 2,500+) also joined them in the afternoon! One last point about the cruise ships – the three ships anchored in front of our terrace that afternoon had the joint capacity of 8,500 people! There were two more
equally large ships docked at the New Port and a couple more anchored around the other side of Hora. When I’d felt like we were being swamped by thousands of people in the small old town of Hora the day before, it hadn’t been an exaggeration. Anyway. Onwards and upwards with our day.
Even though neither of us were hungover from the night before, I felt a bit ‘quiet’ and couldn’t get up until 7:30am. I may not have mentioned that most of our hotel was under renovation, and as a result our included breakfast had come in the shape of a breakfast basket full of a variety of goodies. By the time I struggled out of bed, I was very grateful to see that Andrew had already sorted out a spread of croissants, butter, honey, cheeses, cranberry juice and a cup of tea for me on the terrace. I am very spoiled. 😊
Despite my carrying-on about the cruise ships, we felt very lucky to have our breakfast with such a gorgeous view of the water. We probably would have sat on our lovely terrace for a lot longer, but the wind off the water was a
bit chilly, and I was shocked to see that little boats (tenders) were already starting to move people off the newly arrived ship.
We had a free morning, and Andrew and I were focussed on experiencing the picturesque charm of the old town of Hora. Having experienced the crowds from the cruise ships the day before, we were grateful that our hotel was in a tranquil spot 15 minutes away from the madness. However, this distance also meant that we had to make much more of an effort if we wanted to explore Hora without said crowds. It wasn’t the first time we’d wished we were just
slightly closer to Hora.
Having taken much longer than anticipated to get ready and get going, we left for Hora about an hour later than we had hoped! By the time we got to Hora, there were already a few groups from the cruise ships starting to fill the squares and waterfront area.
We ducked into the rabbit warren of smaller lanes in the old town and blissfully had most of them to ourselves. The cafes were already doing a roaring trade, but the shops and stalls were only just
setting up. I was pleasantly surprised that I hadn’t really appreciated how beautiful the paved cobblestone surface of the laneways was. It was extremely eye-catching with the white mortar around the cobblestones matching the whitewashed buildings along it. We hadn’t been able to see any length of laneway without people the day before; and when we’d returned in the evening it had been too late to see the effect of the white mortar pattern.
We decided that we’d make our way towards the iconic Mykonos windmills first. We weren’t too focussed on trying to use the map… and Andrew suggested we try to get there a different way than on the main thoroughfares via Little Venice. I followed Andrew, and Andrew was more or less following his nose in an arc outside the busiest parts of the old town. It was an excellent plan, but unsurprisingly, we got lost. While there was a slight pressure to get to the windmills before it got too crowded, it was also very fortuitous that we got lost ‘accidently on purpose’. We knew it was the best way to really explore the place.
The old town is really quite small in size,
but feels a lot bigger because the narrow lanes and two storey buildings prevented us from navigating by a landmark or skyline (my natural mode of navigation). However, unlike other old towns we’ve been in, the narrow lanes and haphazard buildings never once felt closed-in or claustrophobic… the bright light reflecting off the white buildings had a lot to do with this false sense of openness. In fact, most old towns built in this way have the primary objective of confusing and disorientating outsiders. And I couldn’t help thinking that once upon a time, all the houses would have been painted in exactly the same whitewash and trim… and there wouldn’t have been shop signage – which was my key in differentiating one street from another.
We passed a few places I recognised from our visit the day before, but then at some point we started realising that we were increasingly moving from the narrow lanes into a very residential area, and had lost all sense of where we were on the map. We had ventured into wider streets, where houses had gates and gardens. There wasn’t another tourist in sight. It was quite hilarious to see that what
I’d thought was white mortar around the cobblestones in the lanes was actually white paint! And as we exited the touristy areas, the paint abruptly stopped! 😊
Nasos (our group leader) had advised us to navigate ourselves towards the ocean should we get lost… but there’s assumed knowledge in that statement that you weren’t so lost that you couldn’t even tell which direction the ocean was! Very unexpectedly, we stumbled upon a gorgeous little theatre that gave us a map reference again. We realised we were well off the ambiguous course that Andrew had set for us. Nonetheless, the windmills were not that far off and we could get to them if we steered a dead straight line from the theatre as the crow flies… this was, of course, much easier said than done.
After taking some photographs of the small theatre, we walked down a beautiful tree-lined street. The rapidly increasing number of cafes and small hotels told us we were heading in the right direction. We eventually came upon two local women chatting outside their homes, and when they interrupted their conversation to smile at us, I confirmed with one of them that we were indeed
heading in a straight line towards the windmills.
Not long afterwards we arrived at the seven Venetian-built windmills of Mykonos, and even though it was a lot later in the morning than we had intended, the strong morning light was still pretty good for our photographs. The whitewashed round mill houses have conical thatched roofs and small windows and doors painted in greens and blues. Their vanes are fashioned out of 12 wooden arms that would have once been covered in a canvas-type fabric to catch the wind.
They were apparently a very lucrative source of income from the 16th to 19th centuries (when grain production dropped off). They have now been converted into luxury homes and expensive tourist accommodation. As unique as that was, I really don’t think I would like to wake up in the midst of hundreds of tourists looking in through my windows! One of the windmills even had a high privacy wall constructed around it, but that didn’t seem to be stopping the ‘influencers’ who were focussed on getting the shot they wanted by jumping the wall! On the plus side, these guys had already worked out the best angles for light and
photography, and I unashamedly copied a shot that seemed popular with all of them. 😊
We’ve come across more Instagrammers and TikTokers on this trip in Greece than ever before. And another new concept for us was the hiring of a professional photographer to take photos. I wondered if this was something unique to cruise ship patrons, or if it was a new post-COVID way of travel that we hadn’t encountered before. We were fascinated by the people dressed up in their finery with professional photographers (and all their gear) in tow. It was especially attention-grabbing, as the couples and groups were usually in matching outfits! I jokingly told Andrew that I wanted a professional photoshoot on our next holiday! 😉
While standing at the end of the row of windmills with my camera up to my face, I felt something brush my leg. I thought it was a cat or dog at first, but looked down to see a small child hugging my leg. Fortunately, the kid’s mother was only a few metres away and noticed ‘the situation’. She called out to him and the poor kid had a moment of being both terrified and embarrassed! But
his mum and I shared a laughed over it – we were dressed similarly (denim shorts) and had a similar ethnic background. The little lad’s brown skin imprinting must have overridden his stranger-danger screening. 😄
Having approached the windmills from the residential side, we decided to walk back into the old town via Little Venice. The hazardous wet walkway I’d disliked the day before seemed even more treacherous now. But being forewarned is being forearmed, and I knew to wait on the side-lines until there was a suitable gap in the surging crowds. We also wanted to retrace our steps to the bars we’d visited the night before – particularly to double check the name of the last bar. While at Galleraki, it was nice to see the daytime view from the balcony we’d sat at.
After this we meandered through the old town, crisscrossing the lanes in any direction that took our fancy. As disorienting as the winding lanes had initially felt, it was clear that we were already getting to know a few of the bigger thoroughfares. And it wasn’t difficult navigating to places using the direction of the ocean as a guide, because now we
were close enough to sense the water around us.
While on our orientation walk the day before, Nasos had jokingly ridiculed my delight on seeing a tiny white Orthodox church when we first entered Hora. He told me there were more than 50 churches in the old town alone, and I was going to be sick of seeing churches by the end of the walk. This was only partially true. I had seen many small churches in the last two days, and some I’d walked right past, but others were beauties that I just couldn’t get enough of. They sat solidly and proudly in the smallest of spaces between buildings or on squares with shops and cafes right on their doorstep. I felt they somehow anchored the island to who it really was.
These were my favourite churches in Hora:
> the small but commanding Agios Nikolakis Church on the cobblestones of the waterfront, with its dazzlingly blue dome and simple faded interior;
> the Virgin of St Rosary Church on the picturesque Alefkandra Square near Little Venice (the only Catholic church in Hora); and
> that first church I saw – Agia Anna Church on a tiny
square, with its small belltower and bright red dome.
By now the cruise ship shore excursion crowds had really started to throttle the little lanes, so we decided it was time to head back to the hotel for the afternoon. They seemed to be split into groups of 20 or so. When a lane is only two or three people wide at most, having a large group squeeze towards you is not a pleasant sensation at all. 😖
At one point we were totally swamped by a group with a ratio of one pram/stroller to every two or three adults. By now we knew the lanes well enough to duck into a side lane and still get to where we were going. However, every now and again we couldn’t do so, and we would get really sick of waiting in doorways while a guide and their group barged past. These groups had no consideration for anyone else. And I’m not sure what exactly it is, but none of the groups were very pleasant or courteous. They were all pushy, loud and acted like they owned the place. I suppose it’s how a mob mentality works. 😲
Out
on the waterfront, I was very surprised to see a small produce market set up along the walkway. A few old guys were selling vegetables from the back of their trucks and vans. I had got so used to this part of Hora being ultra touristy that something as normal as a produce market looked very out of place. I’m not going to rant about the evils of rampant mass tourism yet again, but seeing those guys with their onions and cucumbers made me indescribably sad. I wasn’t sad about the farmers themselves, but at the blunt reminder that this was an island that had sold its soul to tourism. 😞
Further along the waterfront, I noticed a very bored looking guy with a sign on a stick that read: Let’s Take a Selfie Tour. He was being shadowed by an equally bored looking group of people. We were walking in the same direction as them and my curiosity was piqued. The only stop I saw them make was at a point on the waterfront where they could take a selfie with a massive cruise ship anchored in the water. Of all the beautiful things in Hora to take
a selfie with! I was amazed that this was a stop on the Selfie Tour… no wonder the people looked so bored! I later realised that it may have been the group’s cruise ship, which I suppose makes it marginally better.
We’d considered having lunch in the old town, but we remembered that we had quite a few of the savoury contents of our breakfast basket left (including two cans of sparkling wine!). We walked to our hotel on the very hot and unshaded road. Back on our terrace, we sat in a thin slice of shade and enjoyed a lunch of rusks, bread sticks, cheese, jerky, olives and slices of fresh apples. It was the perfect light lunch we both wanted.
Bemoaning the lack of shade on our terrace, we made our way over to the pool which had a great undercover area we could relax in. We had intended on catching up on some writing, but we soon realised that the afternoon had got away from us and we had to get ready for our excursion to the nearby island of
Delos.
We met the rest of our group at 3pm to walk back to
Hora. The ferries to Delos leave from a small pier on the Hora waterfront. This is where all the old wooden fishing boats were moored, and I loved this part of the picturesque waterfront. By the time our ferry left at 4pm the wind had picked up and the water was starting to look a bit choppy. It was only a 30-minute ferry trip from Mykonos, but the rocking movement of our boat lulled me into a lovely little nap.
Delos is the mythical birthplace of the twins Apollo and Artemis. The island was once a powerful sacred place full of temples, grand terraces, theatres and opulent houses. It’s now an uninhabited archaeological island, and we were heading there to explore the ruins of the various sanctuaries. I found it particularly interesting that the Cycladic islands are named for the fact they encircle this small sacred island of Delos. It’s deemed the most important mythological, historical and archaeological site in Greece.
When we docked at Delos, we were met by our local guide Effie. The Ancient Delos site begins a few hundred metres from the ferry, and we started making our way through it. Even though it was
turning out to be a windy afternoon, the sunlight was absolutely stunning and it gave the whole island a beautiful golden hue. Another bonus was that there were friendly cats all over the place! While I’m always happy to come across animals who look well fed and content, given the number of kittens I saw, I suspected the site management probably wasn’t being as responsible with providing veterinary care as it should have been.
Effie shared interesting historical facts and mythological stories as we walked around the main features of the site. This 3-kilometre square island was known as a sacred dedication to Apollo and other gods, but it is also an important repository of information about life from many time periods, including the Roman occupation.
We began by walking towards the Sanctuary of Apollo, the spiritual nucleus of the complex. We walked along the wide paved Sacred Way which was flanked on one side by marble bases where statues and monuments would have once sat. On the other side of the road, the Stoa of Phillip (a colonnaded portico) was under scaffolding. It had been a gift from Philip V of Macedon, who was the ruler of
the Cyclades in 200 BC. The Sacred Way led to the grand Propylaea (gateway).
It was at this point that I realised the vast majority of the site was still rubble, and only very minimal restorations had been carried out so far. Even though enough work had been done in each area to give a hint of what the buildings and areas may have looked like, I realised my imagination was required to work overtime to picture what Effie was talking about.
Beyond the Propylaea gateway there would have been three grand temples to Apollo, one temple to Artemis and numerous other temples and altars. We walked past lots of marked areas representing the boundaries of buildings, lots of fragments of columns and lots of piles of stones. I assume each pile had been painstakingly sorted, and some were even labelled. I have plenty of respect for the patience that is required to piece these giant stone puzzles together after so many centuries.
The next section of the site was one of my favourites – the Lion District – which contained the Terrace of the Lions. These 7th century BC marble beasts were in various states of
restoration, and they sat guarding the Sacred Lake. The mythology behind this island is that Leto (a Titan goddess) found herself pregnant by Zeus (the king of the Olympian gods) and had to escape the wrath of Hera (his wife). Leto found sanctuary on this small island and gave birth to her twins Apollo and Artemis in the Sacred Lake. The lake was once filled with swans, but Effie explained that the lake had been drained to prevent the breeding of malarial mosquitoes. While I pondered the intersection of modern-day problems with mythology, I recognised that even in mythological stories women bore the brunt of men’s bad behaviour. Was that life imitating art, or art imitating life?
Given his strong paternal and maternal god lineages, Apollo was a powerful god who was highly revered for his many roles – god of the sun and light, prophecy, knowledge, healing, archery, agriculture, plagues, music (the lyre was his instrument of choice), poetry, order, beauty etc. etc. etc. As the son of Zeus, I guess he had his pick of things to be the god of. His twin sister Artemis was the goddess of the hunt and the moon. She had clearly
been a lot more modest in her choice of godly domains. Effie explained that as a birthplace of gods, it was decreed that no mortals could die or be born on Delos. Some think this may have been the key to the preservation of millennia of rich archeologically information.
We walked past the remains of the Statue of Apollo on a large pedestal. This 7th century BC statue is thought to have been covered in gold. This all-powerful statue that was once nine metres tall is now in pieces – his thighs and torso remain on the pedestal, with one foot in the British Museum, and a hand in the onsite Archaeological Museum of Delos. Effie informed us that the museum was unfortunately closed for renovations. It contains a large collection of the original artefacts, and I’m sure it would have given me a better understanding of the layout and structure of the site. But I couldn’t begrudge them the addition of another wing to better house their growing collection.
We now crossed to the other side of the site, and as we passed the ruins of the Temple of Dionysius, I got the giggles at the sight
of the partial remains of his large phallus monuments. We then entered the Theatre Quarter where the cities richest citizens lived. Some of these lavish houses had courtyards with lovely mosaics that have miraculously survived. My favourite of these was the House of Dionysius, named after a mosaic of Dionysius wrestling a panther.
We walked past the remains of an amazing aqueduct and sewage system. This was amazing for the fact that the island had precious little fresh water, yet the Romans found a way to sustain life here. Speaking of life, given the decree I mentioned earlier, Effie explained that pregnant women and people close to death were shipped off to a nearby island so as to not anger the gods. I pondered the ramifications of someone dropping dead with no warning!
We eventually walked to the Delos Theatre. By this point of our trip in Greece, we’d seen many theatres at archaeological sites, and I’d say this was one of the least restored. While listening to Effie in the theatre, a suspicion I’d had from our time in Syros was confirmed beyond a doubt. This was the very first time that we’d travelled with someone on
an Intrepid trip who was a bigger cat magnet than I was. While sitting in the theatre, a tabby cat walked past without so much as a whiff in my direction and settled against Jesse! Now if I sound jealous, that’s probably because I bloody well was. Okay, I’m kidding! Mostly. It really was super cute, and Jesse looked so happy to have been bestowed such an honour. But a small part of me was left wondering how I’d been so easily superseded. 😄
By the time Effie ended the tour at the theatre, we realised we didn’t have much time to see the rest of the site before our ferry back to Mykonos left at 7pm. Andrew and a few others had been excited about climbing Mt Kynthos, which sat very picturesquely on one side of the ruins. However, it became very obvious that there just wasn’t enough time. The steps leading to the summit of the mountain looked tantalizingly close, and I was very disappointed for them – especially as the views from the top were said to be absolutely amazing.
As it was, we had to seriously rush to see a few more houses with
mosaics as well as a building I’d been eyeing off ever since we’d reached Delos – the gorgeous little Temple of Isis. The temple sat halfway up the hillside and was visible from the entire site. When we eventually reached it, I was very surprised that it was such a small temple. Apart from the front facade of Doric columns and a small statue inside, there wasn’t much more to the little ruin. It had been built by the Romans in what is now called the Sanctuaries of the Foreign Gods.
While rushing back down the hill to use the toilet at the ticket office before the ferry left, I reflected on the fact that I really am crap at reimagining original buildings from ruins. And I also doubted the accuracy of the list I’d jotted down of the things we’d seen. For a large section of the walk, I really wasn’t sure what I was supposed to be looking at.
For the most part, I’d enjoyed the tour around Delos with Effie. However, two things had annoyed me immensely. Firstly, the earpieces she’d given us were just about useless for me, as the wind kept hitting her
microphone and causing a dreadful buzz in my ear. Secondly, I felt she could have truncated her stories a bit to allow us more time to explore on our own. Nonetheless, it had been quite a beautiful walk around the site in the late afternoon light. If only we’d had the foresight to leave the tour earlier so Andrew could have climbed Mt Kynthos and I could have done another circuit of the site at my own pace.
By now it was actually cold, and I was glad I had a cardigan in my bag (which I always carry for air-conditioned spaces). I gave Andrew my scarf but it wasn’t enough to keep him warm. It was such a windy island! I was grateful to seek shelter on the ferry.
The ferry trip back was a bit rough, with squalls of wind and big waves taking turns hitting the side of the boat. We had anticipated a sunset viewing as we approached Mykonos, but the clouds had gathered fast and by the time we docked in Hora, it was positively stormy.
Nasos suggested dinner at Busulas Restaurant in the old town, to which we agreed. The restaurant
was lovely, but we were all cold and it didn’t help that we had been seated on a semi-outside table. Andrew and I shared
hortopita (pies of wild greens and herbs), and a dish of Greek veal
stamnas (veal and potatoes cooked in a tomato and wine sauce). It was sensational! They also gave us a complimentary shot of
mastika (a liqueur seasoned with resin from the mastic tree) with peach nectar. I think I’ve now found my favourite way to have
mastika! This was our last night in Mykonos, and it was nice to have a lovely dinner with the group; but I was so cold by the end of the night that I wished we’d got take away
souvlakis instead.
The brisk walk back to the hotel warmed us somewhat. Andrew detoured via the small minimart attached to the quad bike hire place to buy bottles of water for our upcoming travel day. A hot shower would have been unthinkable just a few hours earlier, but I definitely needed it this evening to thaw my frozen hands and feet. Swaddled in a warm jumper and with a hot cup of tea in hand, I snuggled into bed
to catch up on my travel notes until I crashed at 11pm.
Mykonos, or more aptly the town of Hora, may not be somewhere we’d ever return to, but I’m glad we managed to appreciate its charms – despite the hordes of tourists being dumped on the island on a daily basis. I’d come to the island really concerned about sharing my space with literally thousands of others, and so it would be fair to ask if exposure therapy had changed my mind. The answer would be a big fat No! I may have come to terms with the fact that mass tourism is now a reality of travelling to certain places, but I really despise these colossal discourteous (the politest word I could find) contraptions and everything they stand for.
At times it felt like the crowds were literally chocking the life out of the old winding lanes of Hora. However, we thankfully discovered a workaround. We found that exploring Hora was best earlier in the morning (before the cruise ship shore excursions began), and in the evenings (when the majority of tourists have gone back to their ships). This also allowed us to indulge in the
night life of the town… kinda what Mykonos is famous for, after all! 😊
When we first arrived, I really hadn’t expected to like Hora, but when I could separate the place from the tourist crowds, I realised I was really very fond of it. I was intrigued by its construction. Even when the wind was blowing quite strongly on the water, the old town felt snug. I loved the safe and protected feeling when walking through its little streets. I loved the light and airy feel, despite some lanes being only one person wide. I loved the play of sunlight on its mostly white colour palette, and I loved the less-is-more approach of its exterior decor. But most of all, I loved the quiet reminders that this isn’t just a tourist playground with cafes, hotels and clubs. This is still home to some people (albeit far fewer than is wholesome). I enjoyed stalking collared cats sitting on the white ledges outside their homes; seeing old women hanging out washing in the wind; spotting pots of herbs growing on balconies; and watching candles being lit by locals in small neighbourhood churches.
As I said before, Mykonos is not
going to be on our ‘return list’ anytime in the foreseeable future, but I’m extremely glad we came and experienced it. And I’m fairly sure that with time, the many happy memories of our experiences here will overshadow the less savoury aspects we had to contend with.
Next we travel south to Santorini, the last stop on our trip through Greece.
Advertisement
Tot: 0.237s; Tpl: 0.027s; cc: 16; qc: 43; dbt: 0.0721s; 1; m:domysql w:travelblog (10.17.0.13); sld: 1;
; mem: 1.3mb
Jasmin Baker
non-member comment
Camouflage kitty cat! 😻