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Published: March 8th 2023
A kiss must last long to be enjoyed… ~ Greek Proverb
HE SAID... Today we were travelling southeast from Athens to
Syros– by ferry.
There are ‘early’ starts, and there are ‘very early’ starts. This was one of the latter. When we woke at 4am, it was way too early for breakfast, so we picked up a pre-prepared breakfast box from the friendly Hotel Attalos staff and made our way to the underground metro (a short walk from the hotel). We boarded a train, found a place to stand, dropped our packs at our feet and headed to Piraeus – the main port of Athens. It wasn’t long before we were storing our packs in the cavernous bowel of an enormous ferry and finding a spot upstairs to settle for the four-hour trip to Syros.
We arrived around midday, grabbed our packs from the chaotic bowels of the ferry and disembarked via the car boarding platform. We walked to Hotel Archontissa, our accommodation for the next two nights, which was located about 700 metres from the island’s main ferry quay. Nestled on the side of a bustling roundabout (which our small third floor balcony looked over), the hotel was in a very local part of town, and it
was perfect. It didn’t offer breakfast, but there was a small cafe and even smaller bakery on the roundabout, and a supermarket on the next block. We couldn’t be happier!
We climbed a narrow set of stairs to the third floor, dropped our packs in our basic but comfy room and walked to Laoutari Kafreneio for lunch – an intimate little taverna with a
rembetika theme.
Rembetika is the name given to a genre of Greek music that emerged from the country’s urban underground in the 1930s. As part of our pre-travel research, we watched ‘Rembetiko’, a harrowing 1983 biopic on the life of rembetika singer Marika Ninou. Another key figure of the rembetika genre, Markos Vamvarkaris, was born in Syros. We hadn’t experienced any rembetika music (to-date) in our Greek adventure, so maybe Syros would be the place…
As we settled at an inside table, the music being played through the taverna’s sound system grabbed my attention. It was an oud (or
outi in Greece), a short-necked fretless stringed instrument that produces a beautifully sombre tone. I was fortunate enough to pick one up in Istanbul in 2012, and it is a difficult instrument to play well
(or even play at all). While the bouzouki is considered by some to be the core instrument of rembetika, the oud also features in the genre.
With soft, peaceful oud music drifting through the taverna (which I later discovered was from an album featuring Greek musicians Haig Yazdjian and Antonis Apergis), we grazed on several shared plates, including:
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dakos (dry barley rusks soaked in olive oil and topped with diced tomatoes, capers, herbs and feta cheese)
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melitzanes saganaki (grilled aubergine with cheese)
> mushroom pie
> blended fava beans with herring
> pork with a parsley pesto and potatoes
> pita bread with mincemeat and yoghurt.
I refreshed with the odd glass of
raki (a distilled spirit also known as
tsipouro) during the meal, and we received a complimentary
mastika (a liqueur seasoned with resin from the mastic tree) and a glass of
raki flavoured with honey at the end of the meal.
I absolutely loved this meal. Every dish was a standout, and the blended fava beans with herring was a revelation. When matched with the taverna’s friendly staff, relaxed atmosphere and soulful music, the overall experience was extraordinary. I will remember this intimate
taverna for a long time.
Feeling rested and restored, we left the taverna and walked a short distance to Loukoumi Sykoutris, a confectionary maker that specialises in a Greek sweet known as
loukoumi (or
loykoymi). For me, the sweet tasted a lot like Turkish Delight, but I shouldn’t really make this comparison – the Syriots are a bit touchy on the issue. I’m not sufficiently familiar with the origins of
loukoumi, so I’ll leave the topic alone. However, I’m very familiar with the taste of Turkish Delight. I grew up with the chocolate-coated version in Australia, which my father and grandmother both loved (as do I). So, at the risk of being struck down by Zeus himself, I’m going to say that
loukoumi is the Greek version of Turkish Delight.
The friendly staff at Loukoumi Sykoutris described the history of
loukoumi in Syros while providing a few tastings of the sugary sweet, including a rose
loukoumi – which was close in taste and texture to the Turkish Delight I’m familiar with – and a bergamot
loukoumi. We also sampled an amazing
chalvadopita (nougat pie). After purchasing a pack of mixed
loukoumi to take back to Australia, we walked
back to the hotel to refresh. We had been on the island for less than three hours, and we already loved the place.
In the late afternoon we headed out on an orientation walk of Ermoupoli, the main town centre of Syros. It was very peaceful and relaxing, and the architectural designs and styles of the houses and buildings close to the port were stunning. As we explored the township, I imagined what life would be like on a small island in the Cyclades.
The following is a transcript from my notebook, which I managed to scribble down while walking the wide streets and narrow lanes of this stunning waterfront town:
> We visited the Church of the Dormition of the Virgin Mary, which houses an early El Greco painting
> We visited the imposing town hall in Plateia Miaouli, and loved its neoclassical architectural style
> We walked past the Orthodox Church of ‘Rich’ Saint Nicholas, and discovered the Orthodox Church of ‘Poor’ Saint Nicholas is further up the hill
> We marvelled at the marble streets, but wondered how practical they would be in wet weather.
At about 6pm we made our way to a
popular swimming platform at Asteria Beach and settled at Ciel, a cocktail bar with the motto
Eat. Drink. Love. I slipped into the warm waters of the Aegean Sea with a few travel companions, relaxing in the gentle swell until the golden sun dipped below the two towers and blue dome of the Orthodox Church of ‘Rich’ Saint Nicholas. It was a stunning and magical sunset, and one of the most sublime views I’d witnessed on our Greek travels (to-date).
We slipped out of the water (via a flimsy ladder secured to the swimming platform), wiped ourselves dry on the concrete, stayed a while at the bustling cocktail bar and then walked to nearby Stin Ithaki tou Ai for dinner. The dusky light on the pastel-coloured buildings along the foreshore was a sight to behold. My ‘imagined’ life on a small island in the Cyclades was gathering momentum.
We settled at a table in the pedestrian walkway outside the taverna and ordered stuffed tomatoes (with peppers and potatoes), which we enjoyed with fresh bread and a small bowl of parsley pesto. We were sitting under a floral canopy that spanned the length of the walkway, and it added
so much to the relaxed atmosphere of the place. The salty water of the Aegean Sea had made me very thirsty, so I quenched my thirst with a local beer (Fix). Could this day get any better?
We wandered the streets of Ermoupoli into the late evening, picking up some delicious gelati from Django Gelato along the way. I ordered a Caribbean chocolate with chilli gelato, and it was seriously good. We briefly stepped inside an open-air cinema where a cartoon was screening, and the kids in the audience were transfixed. Life on this island is so relaxed.
As we made our way back to Hotel Archontissa, the evening sea breeze embraced us like an old friend. We walked past Laoutari Kafreneio, the intimate taverna where we had stopped for lunch earlier in the day, and the place was alive. Every seat was taken; every table occupied. Rembetika music drifted through the air. A small group of musicians was playing, and the crowd was singing along quietly. Life on this island is so appealing.
What a brilliant travel day!
SHE SAID... I had a moment of total disorientation when the alarm went off at
4am. It took me a couple of seconds to recognise the familiar decor of our room in Hotel Attalos and remember that we had an early start to catch a ferry from Athens to the island of
Syros (pronounced CE-ros). We weren’t departing until 6am but we both despise rushing, so we chose to wake earlier and ease into our travel day with a few cups of tea in our room.
After we checked out and collected our packed breakfast boxes, we met the group outside. The walk to the Monastiraki metro station only took a few minutes, and before long we were on the green metro line to Piraeus Port.
I’ve only just realised that we’ve stopped mentioning the issue of wearing masks as our blog posts have progressed. We had been very diligent about wearing our masks when we first arrived from Australia… but the longer we’ve been in Greece, the slacker we’ve got. It’s only a requirement on public transport, and to be very honest, on the last few trains we caught we only remembered to wear them if the carriage was packed. 😲
The ferries have been far stricter with their mandatory mask
policy than the trains and buses have been. We walked the same path from the train station to Piraeus Port as we did when we caught the ferry to Aegina in the Saronic Gulf all those weeks ago. We were now boarding an equally hulking multi-storey passenger ferry heading in the other direction towards the Cyclades islands. It might be that the Cyclades islands get greater numbers of ferries than the Saronic Gulf islands, but this part of the port was much more pedestrian-friendly, and the embarkation process felt far safer.
We boarded the Blue Star ferry to Syros at about 6:45am. And as on all the other large ferries, we left our luggage down in the cargo and vehicle hold and walked upstairs. Before the group split up, Nasos (our group leader) sat us down at a large table and gave us an in-depth briefing on what the next two days on Syros would look like, including details of optional activities and lots of other information that would make our life easier. I’d already had a very good feeling about Nasos, and this hopefully proved that he was going to be a very organised and effective group leader.
The ferry pulled out of port at 7:30am on the dot. Andrew and I sat outside on the upper deck for a while, munching on the fruit and pastries from our hotel breakfast box and watching the ferry sail into open waters.
Nasos had given us a great tip that even though our tickets didn’t give us access to the business class lounges ‘with the aeroplane seats’, they were almost always empty, and we could slip into that area as long as we waited for more than 30 minutes after departure. Our tickets gave us access to the decks and standard lounges, but we were curious about the ‘aeroplane seat’ section. So after about 40 minutes, we donned our masks and went inside to hunt for the nicer lounge.
The upgraded seats were indeed significantly plusher than the rest of the ferry, and we gratefully sank into them. I started catching up on my travel notes, but the gentle motion of the ferry, as well as a few late nights in a row (not to mention the very early start) conspired against me. Despite the sub-arctic levels of air-conditioning, I was totally out for two hours of
the four-hour ferry trip.
Andrew woke me up just before we docked. With just enough time to mentally prepare myself for the scrum of disembarkation, we met the rest of the group at our pre-designated meeting point, and watched as we drew closer to the island of Syros.
This side of the island looked desolate and barren. The scorched dark brown earth was in stark contrast to the squat white buildings of sporadic villages, with the occasional terracotta-domed church looming tall. However, when the city of Ermoupoli came into view, it was full of pastel-hued neoclassical buildings. Syros is the capital of the Cyclades group of islands, so it wasn’t a surprise that Ermoupoli, though small, looked quite striking.
Nasos explained that the city had two hills, with a Catholic church crowning one, and an Orthodox church crowning the other. Andrew and I immediately decided that we wanted to get to the top of both hills.
The ferry was continuing on to Mykonos, so we didn’t have much time to head downstairs to grab our luggage and exit. I know the logistics of moving large numbers of people and keeping to schedules can be challenging, but
I just can’t figure out why this process of ferry disembarkation has been such a mess on every large ferry we’ve caught. It’s almost like the ferry staff have no idea where these hundreds of people have suddenly appeared from, and then act mildly exasperated that we all want to get off the ferry! 😄
After all the pushing and shoving to get to our bags, and then all the pushing and shoving as we stood en masse facing the ferry exit… I almost got the giggles when the safety siren for the lowering of the gangplank sounded and it was like a distorted version of a Mr Whippy tune. 😄
My first impression of Ermoupoli was a bit mixed, and was probably more influenced by the port and the busy road that runs past it than the actual city itself. The other islands we had arrived at via ferries had been beautifully facing the water and the port. However, this part of Syros had almost turned its back on the waterfront.
I started getting more of a sense of the city on the very sweaty ten-minute walk to our hotel. The laid-back Hotel Archontissa was on
Iroon Square in a very local and residential part of town. It was a cute little square, but it had the most awkward roundabout that made crossing the square to our hotel a tangled mess. Regardless, I took an immediate liking to it! It was called a hotel, but it was more like an apartment block with an infrequently staffed front desk. Our room was great and we had a sweeping view from our tiny balcony. In one direction we could see the tops of the cranes and bulky container ships a street away at the port, and in the other, the hill of Ano Syros (the old town) merged into its neighbouring hill that was topped with the twin-spired Orthodox church.
It wasn’t long after check-in that we all walked to lunch. The hot streets of Syros were deserted and I wondered where all the people were. The Laoutari Kafreneio taverna was in a charming stone building, not far from the waterfront. The rustic decor included an eclectic selection of music memorabilia with the very cute but disorientating fixture of a small table and chairs glued to the ceiling.
By night this is a famous music bar
that hosts live
rembetika (traditional Greek Blues) performances. Syros has a strong connection to
rembetika traditions, and over lunch we got a taste of the soulful music that is very close to Greek hearts. Nasos provided background information on this genre, and he seemed extremely surprised (and chuffed) that Andrew and I had tracked down and watched the 1983 film
Rembetiko (directed by Costas Ferris) before our trip to Greece. He clearly has a deep love for this art form.
Our group was a mostly fun and gregarious lot, and we were already feeling quite at ease with each other. So when Nasos asked if we were interested in what he called ‘family style eating’, we all happily agreed that he should do all the ordering for us. We shared the following meze dishes:
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dakos salad (a Cretan salad with carob rusks, local cheese, tomatoes, olives and capers),
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manitaropita (mushroom phyllo pie),
>
melitzanes saganaki (baked eggplant and cheese),
> fava beans (dip of yellow split peas, olive oil and onions) with salted herring,
> pork with parsley sauce and pink peppercorns, and
> pita bread with mince and yoghurt.
There was no question about it,
Nasos knew his food! For me the absolute standout dish was the fava beans dip topped with salted herring. I’m not at all a lover of strong fishy dishes, and I would never have ordered it myself… but what a revelation it was. Except for the pita bread spread with mince (which was a tad too salty for me), I would order everything we had again, and again, and again!
To say it was a fabulous meal would be an understatement – the food was glorious, and the owners of the taverna were very helpful and friendly. They gave us complimentary nips of
raki (a grape-distilled brandy) as an aperitive, and
rakomelo (warm raki with honey, cinnamon and cloves) as a digestive.
After lunch Nasos led us along a few back streets to Loukoumi Sykoutris, a small family business that makes
loukoumi (Greek Delight).
Loukoumi is less well known than its
lokum (Turkish Delight) counterpart, but they both come from the same roots. We were told it was a
loukoumi ‘workshop’. However, I wasn’t sure if ‘workshop’ was used as a verb (as in a demonstration) or a noun (as in the factory). I suppose it was the
latter, because even though the lovely Aggeliki gave us a briefing on how this gooey sweet was made, we didn’t see or partake in the process.
With a strong scent of sugar in the thick air of the small room, we stood among the oversized cooking equipment and listened to Aggeliki’s fascinating story (as translated by Nasos). This third-generation business was started by Aggeliki’s grandfather, a then 16-year-old boy who’d arrived in Syros in 1932. The Greek Revolution had created many refugees from Constantinople (Istanbul), and he basically started making
loukoumi in order to survive. Over time his small venture grew into a very successful business.
This Greek version of the confection is still made in the very traditional way – with the three main ingredients of sugar, corn starch, and water… and the addition of a few conventional flavourings. Aggeliki was very emphatic that the
loukoumi from Syros was the best in the country. Apparently, their secret is that the island’s spring water has a slightly salty quality to it.
The confection is cooked over a high heat in a copper pot and when ready, the molten liquid is poured into wooden trays lined with flour.
The cooled but sticky jelly is then turned on a board doused with copious amounts of powdered sugar before being cut into small squares.
At the end of the briefing Aggeliki gave us a tasting of their
chalvadopita (wafer covered nougat) and a rose flavoured
loukoumi. But the star of the show was the freshly made batch of bergamot flavoured
loukoumi she cut directly from a just-cooled tray. It was delicious, and I was very surprised at how beautiful and subtle the bergamot flavour was. In terms of a comparison to Turkish Delight, it had a silkier skin and a firmer consistency. None of us needed much persuasion to stock up on the boxes of freshly made
loukoumi! We bought a small box of three mixed flavours – bergamot, mastic and rose.
Speaking of Turkish Delight, when I’d heard that
loukoumi was made popular in Greece by the refugees from Asia Minor (now Turkey), I naturally assumed it was a transplanted dish. This wasn’t such a weird conclusion to draw given that Turkish Delight is known all over the world, but Greek Delight isn’t. However, we were told that the Greeks believe the recipe for
loukoumi was taken
to Asia Minor by migrants from Greece in the first place – primarily from the island of Chios, which harvests mastik (one of the original flavours of the confection); and the refugees were merely bringing the recipe back home.
When cultures are influenced by each other over such a long period of time, ownership wars over traditions and cultural norms are quite common. I think the movement and evolution of food should be celebrated and not fought over, but it never fails to fascinate me how traditions that are transplanted into another setting very rarely change or progress. They are cherished as something sacred and not to be messed with. This is sometimes in direct contrast to the same tradition evolving in its original society.
Looking at just the last 100 years of the Greece/Asia Minor/Turkey ‘relationship’, this confection is a case in point. In Turkey it has been modernised in many ways, yet in Greece it’s still only made in the traditional way. Regardless of who had the recipe first, I think we can all agree that the survival of this confection through such a long and shifting history is a testament to its utter deliciousness. 😊
As we traipsed back to the hotel, I realised I was really starting to love Ermoupoli. It might have been the incredible lunch, or the sugar rush from the
loukoumi… or a steadily building comprehension that the city’s quiet confidence and understated beauty were very alluring to me.
It was mid-afternoon, and the streets were slowly starting to come alive with school pickups and shops opening for the evening trade. Despite being a capital city, I loved that it acted like a sleepy Greek island town, and that some businesses had closed for lunch!
We had a couple of hours downtime before we regrouped for an orientation walk of Ermoupoli. We walked along streets which had the odd crumbling building in need of some TLC, but still carried a sense of faded grandeur. The city started displaying its much wealthier side the closer we got to the city centre. Nasos gave us a running commentary on the history of the city as we walked.
The island has been inhabited since neolithic times, followed by colonisation by many empires (including the Byzantines and Venetians); however, the city as we know it now was established by Orthodox refugees
and Greek revolutionaries fleeing Ottoman conflicts around the time of the Greek Revolution. They came to Syros (which was a French-protectorate) from various parts of Greece and Asia Minor. As a result, Ermoupoli prospered quite rapidly in the new Greek nation of the 19th century. It became an important commercial shipping hub and also grew into a cultural centre.
Ermoupoli (also called Hermoupoli) gets its name from Hermes, the god of trade, wealth and travel. Some say it’s the birthplace of Hermes, while other sociologists think it’s merely a homage to him. Either way, I’d say Hermes blessed this city.
We first stopped at the pretty Orthodox Church of the Dormition of the Virgin Mary, which not only has a great view to the water, but also displays an early 1560 painting by El Greco (back when he was signing his real name – Domenicos Theotokopoulos). There was a mass going on, so we didn’t explore the church as we might normally have done.
Wealthy cities attract architects and city planners at the top of their game, and our next stop at the magnificent Plateia Miaouli displayed this design pedigree. The square is filled with
tall palm trees and small coffee shops and restaurants in the porticos around it. The main feature building is the Town Hall which was designed by the famous Bavarian architect Ernst Ziller. The beautiful Town Hall was draped in banners marking the 100th anniversary of the Asia Minor disaster in 1822. Strangely we hadn’t seen references to this anniversary anywhere else in Greece.
A small side note on the architect Ernst Ziller… we’d seen about four or five of his architectural works in Athens (around Kotzia Square, in Omonia and Syntagma), and I was curious about his links to Greece. Apparently, he moved from Germany to Greece very early in his career, and was favoured by King Otto (also a Bavarian). This would have obviously helped to boost his professional standing. He eventually became a Greek national.
Our next stop was at the Byzantine Church of Agios Nikolaos, dedicated to the city’s patron saint St Nicholas (who is also the patron saint of seafarers). This bright yellow church stood tall on a hill near the water, its marble towers and blue dome making it a very grand landmark. I found it a bit bizarre that this church is
called ‘St Nicholas the rich’ to distinguish it from the small stone church ‘St Nicholas of the poor’ that sits in the hills above it. Class wars are hideously ubiquitous things, aren’t they? 😲
The neighbourhood of Vaporia was probably the most ostentatious in the area. The city’s old wealth and prosperity was very evident in the grandiose neoclassical architecture of old mansions, streets paved with marble, gorgeous squares, imposing churches, monuments, and statues. The 19th Century Apollon Theater, is an opera house modelled on Milan's iconic La Scala. So, it’s no surprise that it was apparently once called Little Venice.
The orientation walk ended at this point and Nasos suggested that we go to a popular swimming point (and bar) to watch the sunset. Sharon wanted an early night and returned to the hotel, and the rest of us walked down a long flight of steps cut into the cliff at the rear of the Church of Agios Nikolaos. Asteria Beach wasn’t a ‘beach’ in the traditional sense. It was a narrow rocky shoreline with a long concrete swimming platform that was filled in patches with people swimming and sunbaking.
We walked to the very end
of the platform – to Bar Ceil. It wasn’t long before Andrew, Shaun, Bobbi and Jesse were enjoying bobbing around in the warm water. Nasos, Cilla, Romy, Vu and I settled into some comfortable lounges, and while waiting for our cocktails I took in the gorgeous view of the sea around us. Nasos entertained us with a magic trick that was so long and hilarious that we nearly missed the glorious sunset that had suddenly coloured everything around us in an orange tinge. My cocktail (vodka, passionfruit, chocolate bitters and lime) wasn’t brilliant, but the atmosphere at this bar couldn’t be beaten.
There’s something very intoxicating about spending a relaxed early evening with such a gorgeous outlook, while being surrounded by laughter and light-hearted banter. It’s one of those experiences that will stay with me for a very long time. 😊
We walked to dinner via a tangle of old laneways, and most of them were set up with tables for dinner. Stin Ithaki tou Ai was one of these tavernas that had spilled over into the space outside the restaurant, and we sat outside under a beautiful trellis with bright pick bougainvillea. The setting was lovely and
our group was relaxed but enthusiastic. The menu was full of traditional Greek comfort food, and Andrew and I couldn’t resist ordering another
gemista (baked peppers and tomatoes stuffed with herbed rice). We’d loved every version of this dish we’d tried so far, and it felt like the perfect meal to end such a lovely day. 😊
Nasos had noted that some of us loved ice cream and suggested that we return to the hotel via a very good gelato shop. Django Gelato was a tiny outlet on a lively pedestrian lane, and I could see why it had such a good reputation. Andrew had the Caribbean chocolate and chilli ice cream and I tried the tonka bean and salted pistachio flavour. It was delicious, but I feel that I will never be able to match the salted pistachio ice cream we had in Aegina… but it won’t stop me from trying. 😊
With ice creams in hand, we meandered the evening streets with tavernas, bars and open-air cinemas contributing to the vibrant evening scene. We all walked back to the hotel along the port road, taking in the cool air of the night sea and chatting about
how much we loved Syros. We had been on the island for less than a day, and yet we seemed to feel so at ease and comfortable in this lowkey city. I think Syros had definitely enchanted us with its magic!
Back on our room balcony I looked towards the lights of the port and reflected on the day. On our approach from the ferry that morning, some parts of Syros and Ermoupoli had looked more Italian than Greek… and while the neoclassical buildings may have looked like a paler version of one of the islands off Venice, there was no question that the relaxed atmosphere, the delicious food, the welcoming culture, and the social people of Ermoupoli told a very beautiful Greek story.
There was absolutely no doubt about it – I was already very much in love with this place. We had another full day on this charming island, and I was very excited about exploring more of Ermoupoli and the bare arid brown hills of the rest of Syros.
See you around Syros!
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Chris L.
non-member comment
Syros
This s not a Greek Island I have heard about before, although it looks and reads like a marvellous place. A very diverse history for a small island.