Now the day had come to be a typical tourist and go discover the edges and corners of this island with only 10.000 inhabitants. We started of by racing towards our already favourite beach, because it was one of the few that wasn’t completely made for the pleasure of the average tourist that came here, meaning it had no bars and beds and music. You couldn’t even reach it without daring yourself to a cliff walk, but we’d never been able to reach it without a quad, as it was on the other side of the island, about an hour away from the absolute south where we were. So off we went, me driving the quad and my friend at the back I quickly realized driving a quad was something I felt surprisingly comfortable with. You just feel very massive and cool on a quad when you hear the engine burl and feel it fighting to climb the insanely steep hills, and feel its desire to go faster when you finally enter a straight road again. But I must admit, amazing as this sounds, this could only happen on the emptier roads. Most roads were victims of busy traffic, meaning that cars, scooters and quads all basically drove trough each other leading to a lot of honking and me quietly slowing down, nervous and impressed by how traffic worked around here. But I was so happy when we left the crowds and headed to the north of the island, where the roads got even steeper but the traffic was basically absent. That was until at one point the quad refused to go any further because even our ATV, standing for All Terrains Vehicle, said nope to this hill. So we carefully slid back down, and I could again enjoy my favourite feeling in the world as the wind messed up my hair and cooled my burning skin, and we went off the beach.
Tsagari beach is indeed the most amazing beach I’ve spotted on this holiday. You have to climb a bushy rocky cliff with 1 abandoned church on top to get to this super tiny, sandy beach with absolutely zero cover from the sun but a very welcome wind. The water is very quiet and still and again, extremely blue. Approaching from above all you see is the most mesmerizing light and dark blue colours you can imagine, turning into a mirror reflecting the sun and allowing me to watch my every step on the sandy bottom. I enjoyed all these feelings so intensely. The sand below my feet, tickling. The waves against my chest, refreshing. The water hugging me, like a cold silk blanket. Blanket, and the sun warming me up the second my face broke through the water surface again. I felt so free, floating on the ocean, my ears half aware of the underwater world’s silence and half aware of the vague chattiness of other people, my body feeling the amazing cold of the water but on the surface, feeling the warmth of the ever powerful sun. the waves ensuring a constant change of that experience that put my nerves on sharp and made me enjoy this simple moment so much. It was not the wind that made us leave, yet it was. As welcome as the wind was, it didn’t protect us from how powerful the sun still was and especially I am extremely sensitive to sunburn. So we climbed back, hopped on our quads, and decided to now cross the national park nearby. I didn’t’ really know what to expect of a national park on this dry rocky island, but I was surprised to find out. It was in fact greener due to more bamboo and cactusses, and the roads turned absolutely insane now. They were so steep that I actually held my breath going down and pushed the break for dear life. And then again crush my thumb against the gas to gain enough power to climb back up.
But in all honesty, the roads were so unpredictable now and the sun so extremely warm, as if it stood even closer to us on the north of the island. I became seriously worried for my poor milk skin so we agreed to leave this park and head back to the crazy roads of civilization. We just followed our instincts and climbed up and rolled down wherever our nose took us. And funny enough, it led us to the tiny capital of the island: Mikonos city. And I’m not going to lie, this city has surprised me in many ways, by literally proving to be the pearl of the island. The city was lying by the foot of the ocean, surprisingly, and was climbing its way up to the highest point of the island. Along the way, it scattered the orange hill with such an overwhelming amount of white houses that the entire hill was a blur of white. We got of by the foot of the hill and starting walking a kind of pathway I hadn’t walked before but was very typical for Greece; grey cobblestones surrounded by white stripes as if paint had been leaking around them. It was a very satisfying combination with the white houses around. And those white houses were the most picture perfect beings of the island: blue shutters, no roofs or chimneys but instead an extra high amount of wobbly stairways leading to the balconies, filled with plants, cats or laundry. They probably made for very comfortable homes that I would love to see from inside. But no such luck now, instead we could go ahead and discover the alleys that proved to be the only way of getting around in this town. where a little city beach, not suitable for swimming because it was completely covered in boats, hit the cobblestones, where many restaurants were trying to lour us in with amazing gyros smells, we dove into an alley. And that’s where a labyrinth of alleys begun.
They were so small that you sometimes had to politely press yourself against the wall to let the other tourists pass, which were surprisingly many. They were also extremely white, as if they received a new lick of paint every day just to blind us tourists, forcing us to go inside one of the thousands of shops finding home in the alleys. And tempting they were, I won’t lie. They sold your typical holiday souvenirs, such as hats, bags, and jewelry. Luckily I am extremely immune to materials and less immune to experiences, such as trying to pet the cats looking down on us from the stairs or forcing myself not to look at each menu card because despite each restaurant being busy, waiters were very good at adding more people to the terraces. As much as I wanted to give in, we were on a tight budget and today was not for dining. It was for discovering, and so we kept wandering around the small white alleys, over the perfectly satisfying cobblestones. Everywhere around me the walls were covered by hats, towels, and jewelry, creating amazing picture worthy contrasts. I couldn’t’ stop taking pictures, of everything. The beautiful white stairways, the cosy balconies leading to deep blue doors, the blue benches with colourful pillows popping up everywhere, the amazingly pink, massive flower bushes climbing up against many of the white walls. The huge gatherings of pots and plants covering every inch of the spots where people didn’t walk. Blue and white truly were the colours of Greece, there was no discussing that. I basically felt like I was walking inside some pearly fairy tale. This was exactly how I hoped Greece would be, this was that perfect advertisement you see in those damn tempting magazines.
It was incredibly hard to resist the smells of properly spiced food coming from the tiniest terraces, all decorated with plants, flowers, and hundreds of lights. All the stores were so tiny and smelled so good and had so many things to lay the eye upon that it was a good thing that I am so good at resisting the urge to buy. Not that I disapprove, I absolutely boost buying from locals. But just not for me, today, having a budget in mind that already disappeared to the quad. The city itself offered a few tiny beaches of which one turned out to become our absolute favourite. Tread down some steep stairway hidden by an old white mill and there’s about a 10 meters wide beach, completely separated from the city by cliffs and offering a very tiny but very clear swimming space before emerging into the wilder darker parts of the ocean. To end our tour in the city, we had to visit little Venice, an alley at the bottom of 4 old white mills proudly standing on top as the Eiffel towers of Mikonos. Little Venice was a series of houses different from the rest, as they were still white, but their balconies and doors were all painted in a different series of bright colours. They literally hung over the water and the waves splashed against their houses all day. You could walk by them via a small pathway that was constantly wet as waves jumped over the walls to water all of us curious, photographing tourists into a welcoming splash of cold. And I now realized that on this one island alone, I had already seen and felt so much of authentic Greece, that I now could proudly add this to my bucketlist.
- It's an amazing life
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