Mythos [a Cycladic travel diary, pt. II]

Naxos and Amorgos (Greece), 9-20/09/21

(if you missed part I, you can check it out here)

Day 8-9: Lionas, Apollonas and Mikra

Sticking to our original plan to drive around the whole island and explore its hidden gems, on a dark evening we made our way to Lionas, a minuscule secluded village out of time on Naxos’ east coast. The journey itself, due to the lack of lights and some pretty steep, slippery and curvy mountain roads was one of the trickiest, and Christoph had to warm me ahead of time of each hairpin turn.

Pretty exhausted, after what felt like an eternity, we made it to Lionas, where we immediately got greeted by our hosts, the kind yet a bit odd Delfinakis family, who soon turned out to be the most prominent people in the village and also happened to own a taverna. Blame it on the hours spent under the sun or on the adrenaline of a very dangerous drive, as we browsed through the family photo albums that Delfinakis senior proudly handed us over without us asking for it, we couldn’t stop giggling feeling like both the place and the situation felt quite surreal. A few shots of ouzo and a nice meal later we decided to call the day and, for once, didn’t set an alarm.

I woke up in our catalog-friendly room because of the sun burning on my skin. It was a slow morning, we took our time to get breakfast and watch the Delfinakis carrying out their morning routines. They were definitely busier than us but there was such a calm in their actions, as if they had no pressure whatsoever. I remember the mother simply standing on the terrace, staring at the sea with a serene expression and a hint of a smile. I thought it was beautiful that, after a whole life spent in that place, she could still marvel at the view and not taking it for granted. On the other hand there was something about the static nature of that village and the resigned eyes of the son, that made both me and Christoph slightly uncomfortable and moody. A feeling that the black pebbled beach we chilled on didn’t put an end to, but that fortunately dissolved as soon as we hit the road again.

Apollonas, on the north/east end of the island, which served as our late afternoon destination, and the time we spent on the beach and that I spent roaming around aimlessly searching for a picture perfect corner, definitely lifted our spirits. It was very traditional and pretty old fashioned but it felt way less suffocating than Lionas. As the sun went down, we briefly visited one of Naxos’ famous kouros, a massive unfinished marble statue on the hills and moved on to Abram, on the north coast. This time around Christoph was at the wheel, giving me the chance to pick some melancholic tunes and gaze at the red sunset with a distant view on Mykonos. We reached Petrino, our bed and breakfast, and immediately fell for it and its homely loving vibe. The family running it gave us the opposite feeling of the Delfinakis: peace and the feeling of not missing out on an eventful life could indeed coexist. That dinner, cooked by the capable and experienced hands of the house’s mother, had to be our personal favourite. Not only because the food was top notch but especially for the lightness of the atmosphere. We drank house wine, played silly, exchanged romantic gazes and danced under the moonlight.

Waking up in the white light of a summer day, and appreciating the softness of the sheets on your skin as a gentle breeze blows through the olive trees out of your balcony. If this isn’t Greece at its purest!

Mikra beach, a lonely small stretch of sand, just a few minutes drive away from Petrino had to be our pretty obvious pick after three rounds of local breakfast. It honestly felt too good to be true: just the two of us, naked in the morning sun, swimming in the calm waters of the bay. Completely undisturbed and free. I get shivers down my spine if I close my eyes and picture us there.

As the sun raised higher in the sky and the heat approached a challenging level, we had to remind ourselves of our scuba diving plan for the afternoon.

Agia Anna marked the end of our island loop. We dissed the slightly too macho for our taste Bluefindivers, where the instructors basically laughed at our Mexican PADI license, and went for the more relaxed Nima. We both knew that, after diving in Mexico, the bar needed to be lowered quite a lot. Which we did, and allowed ourselves to enjoy our shipwreck dive, even if it turned out to be fairly messy and had to be interrupted way beyond time, with a tank that was nowhere close to its low level. What left me confused was the unfriendly attitude of the fellow divers: not a smile or a laughter. I mean, I don’t understand people that don’t take the chance to enjoy themselves in general, but whatever.

That evening, we had to forget our plans to visit the Portara, one of Naxos’ landmarks, at sunset, since we realised that Christoph had left his shoes at the previous accommodation and it was our one and only chance to pick them up since we had a late evening ferry ride scheduled. Somehow we couldn’t stay away from that place and our hosts, by offering us some homemade liquor and cake, made sure to make us feel more than welcome for that one last time.

We somehow manage to make it back to Chora with enough buffer time to grab dinner (based on octopus salad for me) at Barabbas, a locals’ favourite, which unfortunately, still felt a bit too touristic. But that was the vibe of Naxos town anyway, and we had already come to terms with it to actually be disappointed. As we picked up our ferry tickets I realised the room I had booked for the night in Amorgos, was in the wrong harbour. I felt extremely frustrated with myself.

At almost 2 AM, with a delay of a couple of hours, the ferry tracked in Katapola. I swiftly called our host to inform him that we were on our way and grabbed a taxi, which, in a matter of about 40 minutes, finally dropped us at our stay.

It didn’t go as I planned it, but we made it.

Day 10: Aegiali and the north west

I woke up in a village that smelled like flowers and clean laundry, to the taste of freshly baked delicacies, the outcome of Christoph’s morning hunt.

Aegiali, on the north/west coast of Amorgos, felt like the improved version of Chora. It was touristic maybe, but still maintained the level of realness that I had longed for. We made quick plans at a car rental and drove to an endless beach nearby, where Christoph gave in to a nap as I got the chance to walk back to explore the village at my pace.

Our decision to visit Amorgos was a bit of a last minute one. The plan of the whole holiday was not to rush, however, after one week in Naxos we really felt like we had made the most of our time there and ready to explore something new, even though, that could have meant having to rush and skip a few attractions in the new destination.

As much as we both had made this decision together, we still found it complicated not to feel the pressure of having to make the most profitable use of time.

We grabbed a souvlaki based lunch on the promenade and opted to visit a less packed beach on the opposite site of the bay of Aegiali. I guess that was probably the best decision we made, since, from that angle, the view on Aegiali and on the bay was a definitive stunner and the beach itself, naturist friendly, with its smooth pebbles in every shade of grey, scenic view on the crooked headland and some of the most transparent and calm waters we had come across, became an instant favourite.

As the golden hour kicked in we made our way back on the cliffs that separated us from our car and drove all the way down to Katapola. If I thought I had come across dramatic views in Naxos, the ones in Amorgos had to make me reconsider. This island was the quintessence of dramatic! And the coastal road we drove along, dotted with nonchalant goats, offered one spectacular view after the other, including a humongous peninsula that could easily compete with Iceland’s trademark landscapes. This was way more than I had expected, and casually having Moderat playing in the background helped making it even more unforgettable.

Day 11: Katapola and the centre/south

Last day of holiday. Half of an island to explore.

I set the alarm pretty early and I tiptoed out trying my very best not to wake up Christoph. Here I was again doing one of my favourite things: stroll around as the town comes to life, where all you bump into are yawning faces, old folks getting their groceries done before the burning sun makes it a massive effort, lazy cats sleeping in, laundry being hung and coffee being ground. Probably the best time to go hunting for juicy fruit at a local market and freshly baked goods. Also, being an early bird is a proper treat for an analogue photographer since every pastel colour pops without being flattened by a possibly too bright sunshine.

Have you ever heard about Luc Besson’s 1988 cult movie “Le Grand Bleu”? No? Me neither, but apparently, the director picked Amorgos as the set for the movie, and you can easily spot a few of the island’s landmarks, including the iconic shipwreck of Olympia (one of the reasons that convinced us to visit Amorgos in the first place) and the dramatic monastery of Hozoviotissa.

We picked the former, on the south west tip of the island, as our first destination of the day and, let me tell you, snorkelling naked around that rusty beast was definitely something out of the ordinary! What pushed us out of the water was another jellyfish encounter and the fear to have our buttocks stung.

We reached Kalotaritissa beach, praised as many as one of the highlights on the island, under an unforgiving midday sun. Blame it on the heat or on the loud screams of children and parents, but this beach really didn’t take our breath away as we thought it would. So we opted for a taverna to cool off and fill our bellies with some traditional fava (yellow split peas puree) and Mythos beer.

After a short break at Mourou beach, where the little room on the stoney beach, the rough sea, and a French guy crying in pain after being stung by a jellyfish (our new nightmare) persuaded us to move on, we reached Agia Anna beach. This same place seemed to be a proper magnet for every sort of tourist: greek young folks of our age picked its southern cliffs to swim and chill naked in the sun, older people picked its northern side to visit the perfectly placed Agia Anna little white church, and swim protected from the view of all the nudity on the other side, the third category, religion “fanatics” and devoted, could climb up the stairway to the tucked away Hozoviotissa monastery.

Quite predictably we picked the first option and added two pink dots to the myriads of naked bodies lying on the only flat rock available. From afar it looked like a walrus colony! We both knew it was our last dip of the season and, as the sun hid behind the mountains we had to fight a bittersweet taste in our mouths.

As the sun went down we drove up north again to check a taverna, Panorama, which our host in Halki had warmly recommended. It was local, traditional, delicious and kind of the perfect way to end our holiday.

I don’t wanna linger too long on the fight me and Christoph had shortly afterwards when the plan to take our last swim on our favourite beach miserably failed… As we made up on the little balcony of our flat in Katapola, I took some time to appreciate a series of little things that I knew I would have soon missed: like being outdoors at night in my underwear with a warm breeze caressing my skin, or the white noise created by hundreds of crickets singing and seldom interrupted by the far cry of dogs barking, the smell of the sea and flowers in the air… the sensory background that allowed me to relive some of the best moments of the previous ten days and cherish each single one.