Last night, while waiting for the room key at the reception desk, I overheard a Japanese man talking in broken English about wanting to go to Mykonos and not knowing how to arrange transportation or actually “get to” the port in the morning. I offered that we could ride the train together in the morning. So Nobu and I met at 6:00am to head to Mykonos.
The Athens metro system is actually quite good. The only challenge was finding the proper platform and then we were off. I felt the haze of uncertainty that tourists in New York’s Times Square subway station must experience. Walking through the underground human “habit trail”, maneuvering the linking tunnels, there is a building escalation of commitment because ‘who wants to retrace that many stairs?” Fortunately, we found the Green Line and were on our way to the port of Pireas.
We would travel by the largest catamaran I have ever seen. The space between the twin hulls was so large that cars and trucks simply drove up the middle ramp and were directed where to park. There was a hydraulic lift system that allowed for two layers of vehicles in the hold. I had the feeling that this trip was not going to result in the stereotypical “Greek Island Ferry” sinking typical of ancient ill maintained vessels.
Upon arrival, we faced the “hotel barker” gauntlet. However, this time we had consciously chosen to use this aggressive system to find accommodation, instead of using the internet. A crowd of brochure wielding islanders swarmed. There appeared to be a conscious process. The first person was able to speak to me uninterrupted. Then, when I declined because the price was safely in the “sucker” zone, all hell broke loose. Ten people were all vehemently pointing at brochures and speaking over one another. The tables had now turned and I was stating stipulations “40 Euro for two, next to an internet café, in town.” A thinner group of a few remained, each pointing and talking at the same time. I simply picked the person in front of me and we were off.
After checking-in, Nobu and I were off to the beach. I rented a death trap moped, complete with sticking throttle and limp brakes. Nobu travels with a “tricked out” little bicycle with tiny wheels and indestructible design.
(Don't worry, he didn't carry a pack when we went to the beach.)
I would venture ahead down the roads and then come back to report on findings. We stumbled upon Psarou Beach that we later discovered is one of the most upscale on the island.
It was a “full on” European waterfront experience and I had to keep from laughing at Nobu’s glinting eyes, so a little good-natured teasing was definitely in order. (Sorry, no pictures for the curious.) Despite a beautifully sunny day and warm surface temperatures, the water was freezing. Many people were wading and swimming but clearly this took effort. I walked into the to my knees and had immediate and serious second thoughts, when a Swiss woman spontaneously gave me a ribbing. Ok the challenge had been set and she was right, after about ten minutes all feeling in the submerged limbs was gone. One step at a time, over time and conversation, then finally I was “in” for a brief shining moment. Add the Aegean to the list of global submersions. Now it was Nobu’s turn to give me a fair share of teasing.
(Whew, where is that glare coming from?)
Not being much of a sit, baste, and rotate beach enthusiast, after about three hours under a grass umbrella it was time to move on. Nobu decided to stay longer at the beach, so I was off for a moped kamikaze adventure to the backside of Mykonos. The island has stunning views of volcanic peaks, deep valley, rolling hills, and many coves and bays. The common feature was small family sized chapels, everywhere. A few windmills dotted the landscape, but chapels were definitely the dominant structure, after basic housing.
The world’s scenic farmland is filling in with vacation homes or villas. Mykonos is no exception. Hills above beautiful Panormous inlet are starting to spot with new housing construction. In one way it is sad to lose the pastoral view, in another, that would be an awesome place to spend a few weeks a year.
The typical island life and human scene is fading quickly as Mykonos becomes a purely tourist driven economy. However, far on the backside of the island in Agia Arma, fortune was on my side and I came across an “old timer” returning home from the day. Watching him wander home, it struck me that the changes to this small island in one lifetime must be immense. Solitude with the seascape is practically a thing of the past and my noisy rattletrap moped is a prime invader.
On the return to the main town, the sea, land, and trademark Mykonos windmill line-up literally lay in front of my. These were the most picturesque moments of the day.
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