Wednesday 13 November 2019

Skiathos Island

Many moons ago, long before Erbie was even a chink of an idea in our hedonistic minds, TheGR and I used to fly off, out-of-season, last-minute, to places we had not been before. We had a penchant or the Greek islands and one of which was Skiathos. One of the Sporades chain of islands nestled in the turquoise Aegean. 

Twenty years ago, Skiathos was an undiscovered gem, tired around the edges with half-built hotels, tumble down houses and dirt tracks leading from it’s one main artery road to empty beaches. 
Pine forest backed beaches edge Skiathos
We discovered hidden places such as the Kastro monastery, only reachable on foot. Most of the island was easy to navigate with a bus link from top to bottom - quieter Koukanaries to Skiathos Town next to the airport.

We walked through pine forests to find beautiful vistas of the twinkling sea. I encountered my first Praying Mantis and Swallowtail butterfly and discovered clumps of bee orchid growing in the spring, I easily fell in love with Skiathos.

This beach or that beach?

A small Greek roadside shrine next to a camping sign
Koukanaries itself has beautiful beaches backed by pine and olive groves, clear, clear Aegean blue waters and soft sand, with plenty of interesting bits of driftwood and tiny shells.

Above the beach was a derelict hotel, rooms facing out over a beautiful view to Alonnisos. We’d walk past the empty rooms and giant pots of overgrown geraniums to stand to admire the views.

The Aegean glimpsed through the olive trees in Koukanaries 
One day, we said, we will come back and make it into our film studio. At that time there were plenty of unused half built hotels, owned by the Greek government these had sprung up in the 70s tourist influx and then found themselves derelict in the 90s.

View from Skiathos Town

The narrow cobbled paths in the town led to pastry shops, the laundry, an open air cinema, and traditional Greek clubs such as Kentavros. Skiathos boasts a famous Greek writer called Alexandros Papadiamantis, I read his short stories and visited the museum and art shop.

The Blue House in town
The open air cinema is still there.
As is Kentavros!
We made friends on the island, ‘come back in July or August,’ they said - ‘this is not the real Skiathos’, but funds mainly, made us only visit off-season. But visit we did, year after year, exploring the nearby islands of Tsougria, Skopelos and Alonnisos.

Greek basil matching the shutters in Skiathos Town

When we got older and started earning a bit more money, we splashed out and went in July. Oh my! Another Skiathos opened up to us, a whole street, in-fact. Club street, down by the airport a gyrating, pulsing, booming throng of pretty young things dancing and drinking the night away. One evening a minor earthquake struck, everyone ran outside briefly and then returned to the dance floor as soon as it had passed.
One of the hillside bars in Skiathos Town
Bars on the hill overlooking the Bourtzi, and the harbour were open late into the night. Locals didn’t seem to need sleep, going from clubs at night to bar jobs in the morning, sobering up on Greek coffee and iced water. No one ate breakfast. A constant stream of tourists came and went, July and August were relentless. We loved it.

Skiathos Town
During the day we would walk to the end of the Bourtzi and dive into the sea, or laze on the beaches at the end of a stunning walk through the pines, swimming every day, getting freckles and tan lines with the energy of youth on our side to shower and go out all night again.

Pine forest walk to Mandraki beach
In October, the tiny tavernas on the beach front were filled with old men playing backgammon and drinking tiny cups of thick dark coffee, the windows ran with condensation, shut up to the cold, clear blue skies outside.

Siesta time in town, everyone is home for lunch.
It rains, a lot, in the winter, once you know this, you can spot the drainage channels running down the centre of all the pathways in town. The rain waters gush down the hill to join the sea.

Gullies in the paths for heavy off-season rains.
Most of the bar staff on the island came from elsewhere in Greece to work the Summer season, the Greek guy who took the money on the bus was from Camden in London. ‘Number 53, Skiathos Town’ he’d sing out in a his authentic accent, and we would jump off for a night on the tiles.

The path through the trees to our disused hotel is now paved.
The beach below the hotel was our secret place, or so we believed, not a sunbed in sight, although we did once see a naked old man wandering past whilst we sunbathed.

Our friend Fortis would come drinking with us after his shift, we’d drink shots of of tequila gold with slices of cinnamon sprinkled orange (‘the Greek way’), and smoke Marlboro Red as if they were going out of fashion. Each new year we went back Fortis would joke about how many years TheGR and I had been together, putting up his fingers he'd chant: ‘5 miserable years’, ‘6 miserable years’...

The Greek flag proudly flying on a townhouse
And now, with Erbie ‘22 miserable years’ later, we decided to go back.

Erbie and TheGR exploring the back streets in town.
Boy, some money has been poured into that little gem. Our disused and derelict ‘film studio’ is now a five-star hotel, the scrappy bits of land in front of each room turned into individual suites with plunge pools.
The derelict spaces once inhabited by rough sleepers are now bijou hotel rooms.
Plunge pools in front of the hotel suites.
No need to meander through the pines to the beach now, there is a beach buggy to take you, oh and it's gated, probably soon to be only for the paying guests. 

Personalised airport transfer anyone?
A swathe of land had been cleared and private villas with pools plopped into the landscape, new pines and olive trees have been planted, probably at huge cost, some of the pines already dying, their evergreen needles turning copper. 

Private villas with pools overlooking the Aegean.
Our ‘secret’ beach is now covered to it’s last inch in the thickest, plushest cushioned sunbeds I’ve seen.
Could a humble sunbed be plusher?

Ashtray and beach cocktail menu darling.
Twenty years ago the only salad available was Greek, now there is plenty of choice.

Salad menu...
In town we found an old Italian friend, now a grandad, running a restaurant with his Greek wife’s family. The food was amazing and the views are still to die for.

Our friend Lorenzo’s new restaurant overlooking The Bourtzi.
Skiathos is now a luxury destination and well-know after the filming of Mamma Mia (I’ve still not seen it - and didn’t realise) The prices have sky-rocketed, no longer a cheap getaway this hidden gem will always have a place in our hearts and is still if not more beautiful.

View through the trees in Skiathos Town
Here is Erbie sitting on the steps of the pathway we climbed twenty years ago, before he was born. Once just a track to a derelict building this is now a paved walkway to a luxury hotel.

Another life.

I’ve had my head in the sand for a few years and sadly not the soft Greek sand of Skiathos.

Other nonsense

Quote of the day

‘They tuck you up your mum and dad...’
Anon - after Larkin

“Philately will get you everywhere”
WEM

“It’s not the despair, I can handle the despair. 
It’s the hope I can’t deal with”
Clockwise

“Each new friend represents a world in us, a world not born until they arrive, and it is only by this meeting that a new world is born.”
Anais Nin

‘Come on Dover move your bloomin’ arse’.
Eliza Doolittle