Seventeen days – well over two weeks – into our Greek Odyssey, and there’s nothing I’m missing from home (sorry kids!) There was a moment today as I drifted serenely through the crystal clear sea when I wondered how my garden at home was doing – what was flowering, had my pumpkin plants survived the slugs and beginning to fruit, but the thought passed in a moment – I’m not there to see it, and nothing I can do about.
Plus, the plants and flowers encountered on our trip – particularly here in Antiparos – eclipse anything I can grow at home. Cacti always impress me, and I love to see “houseplants” outside in their natural environment (Snake plants aplenty in pots and borders out here) but my absolute favourite has to be Bougainvillea, a climbing, trailing vine like plant, festooned with deep pink flowers.
Turn any corner in the street of Antiparos and you will see these vibrant flowers highlighted against white walls and blue skies. This evening we ate at a wonderfully picturesque garden taverna with a canopy of creeping bougainvillea above our heads, creating the most magnificent vista – like a scene from Mamma Mia! I may not be missing anything from home, but I will miss this wonderful plant when I do go home.
This morning it was time to leave Sifnos, and head for our next stop of Anti Paros. Shortly before 9 am, we boarded our last Seajets ship of our journey – Super Jet – for the 50 minute hop to Paros. This vessel was smaller than the previous two we had travelled on, and was foot passenger only, no vehicles. Since our arrival in Santorini a couple of weeks ago, the wind has blown and I will confess to having Googled wind speeds and ferry crossings, and was a little concerned to read that smaller vessels are more likely to be cancelled than larger craft and I figured if we were to hit a snag in our travel plans, it would be this crossing. However, for the last few days, I’ve seen this ship arrive and depart twice a day from Sifnos, so I was confident we would sail today and, bang on time, she docked in Sifnos, and we boarded ready for our journey.
However, a few minutes out of the safety of harbour we could see, and very soon felt, the swell in the sea, often the waves capped with white horses. It was a somewhat bumpy journey – I can now see why these ferries do get cancelled in bigger seas – and we were all happy to reach the sanctuary of Paros port, where we disembarked. However, before we could do so, I had to find our bags from under a pile of luggage – in part I don’t think it was stowed well in the first place, but also it had been thrown around during the choppy journey.
And that still wasn’t the end of the road for us, we still had to get to Anti Paros.
A little disconcertingly, as we walked off the ferry I saw I sign that said ferries to Antiparos were cancelled due to the weather/sea state, however these were the direct ferries from Paros port to Antiparos, we had always planned on getting the bus to Pounda, and then getting a ferry from there. Asking around, it seemed that those ferries were still running, but we had just missed a bus, and needed to wait an hour for the next bus. We went to a cafe and had a coffee and cake (the most expensive so far 5.50 euros for a coffee!), and watched in a mix of awe and horror as big ferry, after big ferry, after big ferry arrived in the port, disgorging ever more passengers. Paros port was heaving, crowded and chaotic and we were glad when we finally boarded our bus, and then the next ferry (7 minute crossing, 1.50 euro each) to the relative calm of Antiparos, and our new home in Pavlos’ Place.
We had a little explore, I had a swim in a sea that Becky described as more like Cornwall than Greece (but the sea was much warmer) and in the evening we headed out for something to eat. Following (another) delicious meal, our plan was to have a quick wander before returning to our apartment, but as we walked it became clear something was happening at the church by the port.
It transpires that today – July 15th – marks the start of the three day festival of Agia Marina in Antiparos. There was a big church service (the church isn’t big, many people were outside its whitewashed walls) and big chunks of bread were being handed out to anyone who wanted them. They were cut from large circular loaves (circa 50 cm in diameter) – we had seen a couple being carried in the street earlier in the day. Then there was music and dancing on a stage – we stayed to watch a group of school children dance to a Greek language version of Bella Ciao. And literally as I type, the sky has just lit up with a magnificent display of fireworks. A surprising end to an eventful day!
Today, we didn’t venture far, deciding instead to simply cross the road to “our” beach, hire a couple of sunbeds and umbrella (15 euros for the set for the day) and relax. We are now about mid-way through our greek adventure and this is the first day that we have done very little. It was quite refreshing to do very nothing other than lie back, read, have a little snooze, and then plop into the sea when the mood took you. The weather remains hot (its been around 30 all trip) but the wind is quite strong – most of the time this is refreshing and keeps the temperature bearable – perfect almost – but at times it gusts and anything not weighed down is whipped away, and any exposed flesh sandblasted by sand blown across the beach. On balance, the wind has been a good thing, but it has, at times, been menacingly strong.
And a day spent on our beach has given me ample opportunity to indulge in my new hobby of ferry spotting. I have enjoyed getting to know the schedules and the different ferries, and watch them dock in the port on the end of our beach. Seajets Champion Jet 2 is definitely my favourite, a magnificent vessel best seen head on, when it looks like some futuristic vessel from a ’50s sci-fi movie. It is the ferry we travelled to Sifnos on, tomorrow we leave the island headed for Paros (and then Anti Paros) aboard the much smaller Seajets Super Jet 2. It will be a shame to leave Sifnos – we both love the island – but new horizons await.
^^^ As the sun sets, the ’50’s sci-fi craft Champion Jet 2 heads into port, shortly after Super Jet headed off into to the sunset, en-route for Paros and beyond.
^^^ Another ferry spotted today – definitely not Super Jet 2!
p.s. Like us – it’s (football) not coming home. Last night, England lost 2-1 to Spain in the Euro 24 final.
Only a brief post this evening – I find myself with a twenty minute window between finishing another wonderful greek meal, whilst watching the sun sink behind the mountains, and Seajets Champion Jet 2 docking, disgorging and setting sail again, and the Euro 24 final – England v Spain.
So a quick round up of today’s events:
Early morning swim
Another bus journey (this time costing 2.50 euros each!) to Faros
Beautiful scenery
Another church
Delicious lunch in seafront taverna
Swimming in crystal clear waters
Delicious dinner in a seafront taverna
A quick stroll along the beach, and settling down to watch the game.
Whether or not football does come home, we aren’t (for another couple of weeks, at least) and to me, that’s a right result!
Today, after my customary early morning* swim, and breakfast in our hotel, we headed by bus up to Apollonia, and then by foot to the small village of Kastro and the iconic Church of the Seven Martyrs – a small church set on a rocky promontory reaching out into the Aegean sea. There are many, many, churches on Sifnos, but this must be the most photographed of them all. We walked down to the church itself, and it was worth the walk, but the better view was from the top of the village of Kastros, looking down onto the church in its splendid isolation. Apparently, a lot of people mistake this church for the one that was in the film Mamma Mia. It isn’t in the film, but is easy to see why the mistake can arise.
*early morning, Greek holiday time, equates to 8 am. Ish.
After the morning spent exploring the village of Kastro and the church, we then walked down to Paralia Seralia – the old port of Sifnos, but now just a tiny beach, with a couple of tavernas, and a concrete platform for jumping into the sea from. We decided to have some lunch (again, we are now firmly on Greek time, so it was about 2.30pm, possibly 3pm, by the time we sat down to eat), choosing Captain George’s – a wonderfully authentic and charming (ramshackle if I was being unkind, but it wasn’t) taverna right on the sea front. If you have ever been to Deia beach in Majorca (or watched “The Night manager”**) and have seen the rustic restaurant their, this was similar, but this was wonderfully un-discovered; its few tables were full but everyone was happy to be there, in the moment, no posing or rich bankers, no one saying “look at me”, and whilst photos were taken, photos and Instagram and tik-tok were secondary to the real purpose of enjoying good (and not over-priced) food, good company and a fantastic setting.
One of our aims on our odyssey has been to “find” real Greece, and here in Sifnos we think we have found it. The trick? Go somewhere that the cruise ships don’t, and lacking an airport. That makes it a little bit harder to get there (but by no means difficult – Becky has has said I am becoming a bit of a ferry geek (I am!) and a quick search showed several easy ways to get here from various different starting points. If you are happy to trade cash for time, you can get here very cheaply (I found a ferry from Santorini for 12.50 euros), but if speed is of the essence you can pay more and significantly reduce your travelling time. ) And if things are a little difficult, many – most – tourists are put off, leaving the destination un-spoilt for you to enjoy.
**its been a few years since I watched the BBC mini-series “The Night Manager”, a thriller set in several locations, with much of it shot in Mallorca, and the restaurant at Deia beach is a wonderful backdrop to a key scene in the first episode. If you haven’t watched it, do so.
Today, our first full day in Sifnos, we headed (by bus, of course; two euros per journey, of course) to Apollonia, the biggest village on the island. Having initially got a little lost (we hadn’t got our bearings, and thought we were at one of end of the village, when really we were at the other) we were soon charmed by the (inevitable) whitewashed buildings and splashes of blue, all set against the bluest of blue skies, and the “arty-ness” of the village. On our way into a roof top cafe – recommended to us by a friendly shop keeper – I spied a brilliant piece of art on a wall – a metre square of rusting metal, with a snail making its way across the surface. I loved it. I simply cannot comprehend how someone comes up with the idea to produce a piece like this, but I’m glad they did.
And later on, we visited an art studio, where artist specialised in ceramics, but my eye was taken by some rusty circles on the wall, clearly just lids of oil drums left to weather in the Greek sunshine. Perhaps it says more about me, that I am drawn to rusty old metal – and perhaps this explains why, back at home in the UK, my car is a rusty old banger!
I also loved the triangle shapes set into walls – I’m not sure what their purpose, if any, is, but I like them.
I could share with you a plethora of photos and words highlighting (again!) the beautiful, simple buildings and blue domed churches as we strolled between the three villages of Apollonia, Ano Petoli and Artemonas, or the wonderful food we ate as we spent a happy and chilled day in “real Greece”, but instead I want to mention my new hero.
Having ascended a fair few steps climbing into the village of Artemonas, we saw two benches bathed in a welcoming shade outside a(nother) church, and stopped for a rest and water. Joining us in the square was a statue of a man, and I took a moment to read the information about him, Nikolas Chrissogelos, an educator and leader and he was a key player in the uprising in Sifnos and across all the Cyclades to shake off Turkish occupation. He went on to hold key posts in the Greek administration and was the Head of the School of Holy Sepulchre in Sifnos – the Educational Institution of the Archipelogo.
Reading on, a line his citation struck me
” A free spirit and competent teacher”
I have decided I would like to achieve such status – to be a free spirit and competent teacher, that will do for me.
This morning we bade farewell to Milos – an island we both enjoyed, and would be happy to return to – and sailed to Sifnos, a fifty minute journey aboard Champion Jet 2. Once again, there was no scope for dilly dallying around, as soon as the sleek, futuristic looking ferry docked, we were boarding, and cast off into the blue horizon within minutes. Another comfortable and quick ferry journey, and it felt like that no sooner had we set sail than we were docking in the port of Kamares – our home for the next five days on the island of Sifnos. We arrived at the same time as another, much larger, ferry and passengers and vehicles from both vessels disgorged at the same time and as we strode forth of the boat we passed a long, very long, line of passengers waiting to embark on the two ships. Once again, competence masqueraded as chaos – like everything Greek, it just works, even if to the north-western European eye it looks like it possibly can’t!
Our room at the Aphrodite Hotel was ready, so we hot-footed it across the bay – struggling under the weight of our rucksacks (both of us asking ourselves what we didn’t really need to bring), checked in and headed out for a quick explore …
… and bite to eat, including the most delicious Greek salad I’ve eaten all trip (and I’ve had a few – none of them bad)
The island, and this resort, is pretty and whilst it has all that we need – tavernas, a mini-mart, comfortable, clean accommodation – it does seem years away (behind) the instagram glamour of Santorini. As the sun began to set, we headed up a small hill (not effortlessly, I was carrying an enormous meal in my belly after a very persuasive taverna owner encouraged me to try a range of local dishes – I wasn’t to sure about the chick pea soup, but he was insistent, I’m glad he was as it turned out to be delicious) to a small church to take in the view across the bay in the fading, colour changing light. Very pretty, and very peaceful, the odyssey continues.
In our original plans, we were going to stay on Kimilos but circumstance (cost & convenience) mitigated against it, but after our trip to the island yesterday, we enjoyed it so much we decided to return today.
One of the places we looked at staying on the island was a refurbished and re-purposed fisherman’s shed on the beach, now called the “Elephant House”, named after the “Elephant rock” in the bay. It transpires that we spent much of yesterday staring at the rock, but neither of us spotted an elephant, but today, with our eyes better attuned we made out first the trunk, and then the body and legs, of an “elephant” across the bay from where we had set up station on the beach.
In fact, unbeknown to me, earlier this morning I had swam across to the rock (having first ventured all the way to the back of “my cave” – I was feeling brave, and encountered no monsters of the deep, only interesting rock formations and a beach at the back of the cave), scrambled on to its lower ledges and jumped and dived into the perfect, crystal clear water below.
Today we did a “mini-hop” taking the ferry from Milos to neighbouring Kimolos, and back again. To make the journey we had to get the bus to Pollonia on the north-east tip of Milos, then take a ferry across to Kimolos. We were foot passengers, but the ferry also took cars and motorbikes, but it was a much more sedate affair – both whilst loading and sailing – than our Seajets ferry from Santorini.
On arrival in Kimolos we gathered our bearings and walked up to the Chora (a chora is the main village on a Greek island) and Kimolos’ chora was as pretty as any we have seen. In some areas, behind the whitewashed facade, the buildings were tumbling down, long abandoned as locals will have left the island, but elsewhere the buildings were in good repair and typically charming, an example of the tourist dollar doing some good – we both fell in love with Kimolos and may well return at some point in the future – it will be interesting to see how the island develops, but for now it is perfect.
On our way up to the Chora we spied a lot of cacti, and then noticed it growing wild as far as the eye could see. It seemed to be a theme on the island and we spoke – well gestured – with a lovely old local man who spoke no English (and I (as of now, but have resolved to correct this) speak no Greek) who, I think, grows the cacti, and they use them on the island as an antiseptic when you have a cut but, like many plant growers the world over, he was lamenting a lack of rain. At least I think that is what he said! Anyway, he was a smiley, happy man, and all the locals we encountered seemed happy and friendly.
After a while exploring the Chora …
… we headed back down the hill to the beach (rema beach) in the cove next to the port, and it is a new favourite of mine, eclipsing the moon beach of yesterday. The water was turquoise and crystal clear, and the beach fringed by colourful fisherman caves carved into the rock. Some are still untouched, other than by sea, wind and sun, but a handful have been renovated into small air b’n’b accommodation.
I went for a little explore around the bay, and wondered if it would be possible to jump of this bridge:
… it wasn’t (the water wasn’t deep enough for a safe jump from that height) so instead I swam under the bridge and discovered a sea cave that extended for, say, 20 metres, under the cliff face, the roof of the cave getting ever lower, but never reaching the level of the water. Although the sea in the bay was calm, there was the odd gentle wave and the noise – the boom – as they bounced off the back wall of the cave was something to hear. I will confess, on my first exploration, as the sunlight diminished and darkness developed as I got further and further into the cave, I heard the boom of a wave against the wall and I saw the swell begin to return in my direction, I did allow my imagination to create a leviathan stirring, a kraken awakening, and swimming swiftly from the gloom to take me, the latest foolhardy soul to venture into its realm, as its prey. I beat a hasty exit, pleased to emerge into the glorious sunshine. (Later in the day, having rationalised the sounds and sights of the cave, I headed back in to conquer my fears. I am here, writing this blog, so, for today, at least, rational thought has won over myth and mystery.)
After a wonderful and relaxing day (other than encounters – real or otherwise – with creatures from the deep) we caught the ferry back to Milos, having found a new favourite place.
(For info, the ferry runs from Pollonia on Milos to Psathi on Kimolos, taking about 25 minutes to make the crossing, which cost 2.80 euros each, one way, as foot passengers. I don’t know the cost of a car, but think it was less than 5 euros. The ferries ran fairly regularly, with a hiatus in the afternoon. The ferry timetable can be found here: https://kimolos-link.gr/en/dromologia-osia-methodia/ )
Milos is famous for its beaches, and perhaps its most famous is Sarakiniko beach, also known as “Moon beach” because of it’s unique, lunar like rock formations. Before coming to Milos, it was top of my list to see/do but I will confess to being a little apprehensive, fearing that it may be too crowded to enjoy. This sense of anxiety wasn’t helped by the first available bus not being until 10.10 am, and I was worried that the beach would already be full by those travelling by car (plus our bus was full – standing room only) Had there been an early bus, we would have made the effort and got up early in an attempt to beat the crowds, but there wasn’t/isn’t, so we got the 10.10 bus for the ten minute trip from Ademas.
On our arrival it was soon clear that I was right about the car drivers – there were a lot of them already at the beach – but I was pleasantly surprised that it didn’t feel overcrowded, probably because the unique rock formations spread a fair way in both directions giving plenty of space to absorb all the visitors. And I was even more pleasantly surprised by the magnificence of the place: strange, pure white rock formations, contrasting against a brilliant blue sky. It was unlike anything else I have seen.
Another big draw of the beach is a cliff jumping point – not for the feint hearted, a high leap into deep, clear azure sea below. But ever since we arrived on the island the Meltemi wind – a strong wind blowing from north to south – has been blowing, leaving the seas anything but calm and tranquil, particularly on the north side of the island (like the Sarakiniko beach) making the sea beneath the cliff a much less inviting prospect with strong swell topped with white horse, but more importantly the exit “bowl” resembled a washing machine and would make getting out of the sea after a jump very difficult indeed. So, sadly, I decided not to leap into the blue depths, but today’s disappointment has given me reason to maybe one day come back to Milos and have another go …
^^^^^ The exit bowl, resembling a washing machine on final spin, making exiting the sea too difficult and making today a no jump day.
There was, though, a calm channel and so we did both get the chance to have a swim
It is a strange, bizarre, landscape, but I loved it – probably my favourite place so far on our trip. Even the cats love it!
