12.10.2012 30 °C
Mykonos town was how I’d always imagined a Greek island to be – idyllic. Gleaming whitewashed houses, vivid turquoise shores, hidden squares decorated with abundant bougainvillea and narrow alleys positively confirmed what I had always wondered – whether Mamma Mia type scenes were actually real.
As I arrived in the port I was dumbstruck by the beauty of the place. It has managed to maintain a timeless charm, and despite the hoards of visitors in summer months, has not succumb to the ugly demons of mass tourism – crammed high-rise hotels, British bars with all day fry-ups, and lady booze cruises. Instead Greek tavernas perched practically in the sea, quaint market stalls selling fish straight from the net, and chic boutiques lead the way.
Restaurants serving up freshly prepared seafood, mouth-watering souvlaki and rich juicy moussaka waft their fine aromas down old cobbled streets, enticing passers by to stop for and Aegean feast. Later, as we browse the colourful trinkets for sale, we find ourselves enchanted by cute bottles of olive oil and thoughts of taking up Mediterranean cooking when we return home.
As we loose ourselves in the maze of unbelievably photogenic streets, we can’t help but be in awe of how somewhere has managed to preserve itself to be so magically picturesque. Quaint azure-trimmed houses and bobbing fishing boats make us dream of romantic island life and seriously consider doing a Shirley Valentine. In the distance we see the giants, peacefully imposing over the town – the old windmills, unchanged for centuries and oozing in rustic charm. And as hydrofoils leave the port bound for alluring and sensational destinations, a sense of excitement and adventure fills the air. And we make a mental note to ourselves – the Cyclades undoubtedly need to be further explored.