Swimmingly Good Syros

Beneath Agios Giorgios  Photo©Nigel Summerley

And so to the centre of the Cyclades... not Delos although of course that is the sacred island sitting in the midst of this circular group of islands... but Syros, home of the wonderful Cycladic capital, Ermoupolis.

Over the past six years it has become something of a second home, and I never tire of returning. I could write far more about it than I'm doing here. But I'll concentrate on just two of its attractions: the perfect swimming spots – at Galissas on the west coast and in the city itself beneath the grand church of Agios Giorgios.

It was a little bit of heaven to be able to bathe in the not-too-cold water at both of them during a quick stay before heading back to Athens.

Beneath Agios Giorgios  Photo©Nigel Summerley

Goats, Beef... No Veg

Photo©Nigel Summerley

Like many of the Cyclades, Folegandros has a network of well-marked footpaths. The first that I tried took me east from the Chora to the four beaches spread around Vathy Bay: Fira, Angali, Galyfos and Agios Nikolaos. 

The last of those is designated as clothes-optional. But as far as I was concerned, they all were, since there was not a sign of another person on any of them. My only meeting was with the goats pictured above, and they seemed nonplussed at the presence of a visitor. 

I apologised for disturbing them... and they left me in peace to sit by the sea. 

The path – tough at times – eventually took me northward to Ano Meria and then I hit the road east back to the Chora.

The much talked of restaurant did open in the evening and I went there with quite an appetite. 

Could I see the menu? No. There wasn't one. 

"We tell you what you can have," explained the waiter kindly. 

And what I could have was beef soup. 

I explained I was vegetarian. 

"We can do vegetables," shouted the man in the kitchen, "in beef stock."

Er, no, that wasn't going to work.

"We'll have vegetable soup tomorrow."

I said I'd think about it and headed for the mini-market before it closed.

 

Wait For It

 

Photo©Nigel Summerley

Delays and cancellations looked like becoming a theme of the trip at this point.

The previous day I'd been warned by my contact on Folegandros that it was "a little windy" and the SeaJet might not be able to set off from Piraeus.

Trying to remain optimistic, I made sure I was at the port well before 9am departure time – to find that the flags along the waterfront were flapping furiously in the wind and the SeaJet was going nowhere.

There would be another weather check at 10am, we were told. The hour ticked by. There would be another weather check at 11am. And another hour. We were all starting to get a bit restless. Some of those waiting had had their SeaJet cancelled two days earlier and were now pinning their hopes on this one... and if this one didn't go, the next one would be in another two days' time.

There was a lot of finger crossing and silent praying.

At 12 noon, as happens with these things, there was a sudden communal sense that we were going to get the go-ahead. We did and we piled on board... where we waited for close to another hour before blast-off.

But just sitting on the boat and knowing it was going to speed us to the Cyclades put a smile on every face. Such a good thing is well worth the wait.

An Odyssey in the Second Year of the Plague – Cyclades

Much as I have come to love Ithaca... I have missed not being able to take in the Cyclades on this latest trip.

Some of my happiest travelling times have been in those wonderful islands: especially Kythnos, Kimolos, Serifos,  Sifnos, Iraklia, Amorgos, Schinoussa, Delos, Syros, Tinos, Andros... all of them have their own special magic.

So the next best thing was a visit to the Museum of Cycladic Art in Athens. It was filled with sculptures of unparallelled simple beauty – but not (thanks to the covid plague) filled with visitors.

As with some of the remoter Cyclades, all the marvels on show seemed to be there as a gift just for me.