Mykonos - Island of the Winds

Whenever I'm asked, "Which part did you like the best," along this amazing tour my split-second answer has been Mykonos.  A couple of spots tie for first-place as archaeological sites go, namely the Acropolis and Ephesus.  But the spot which really gave me warm fuzzies was this one.  From I don't remember:

"The island was named after the hero Mykonos, son of Anius, King of Delos, who was born to god Apollo and the nymph Rheo (spellings vary).  According to the myth, this is the place where the giants slain by Hercules were buried, and that is why the island is strewn with big rocks."

I may be one of the last people to have heard about this charming island.  I learned it's been a top attraction for the rich and famous for quite some time (and who probably kept it quiet for as long as possible), but by now it's all over the Internet.

However, last April it seemed I had Chora, or Mykonos Town, all to myself.

After the excursion to Delos that morning, the shuttle-boat dropped everyone off at the water-taxi stand for some independent sight-seeing before the final shuttle back to the ship, after midnight.  Most people from my excursion stopped before menus fronting dozens of restaurants ringing the harbor, with kitschy-souvenir shops scattered in-between.

But I headed off on my own, and was delighted to discover that a short distance beyond lay a world seemingly undiscovered by the throngs of tourists.

I turned up this street and that, confident I couldn't get lost so long as I knew the direction of the water.  I couldn't believe how quiet it was; where was everyone?  Siesta, maybe; or messimeri in Greek, I think.

I had no idea where I was going, but that's my style of travel.  Everything was white, so that even 'dark alleys' were inviting; although you wouldn't want to discover this alley's abrupt end while drunk.

Shopping is definitely a big draw; and even though I knew prices were outrageously high, I didn't care.  "If you have to ask the price, you can't afford it,"  remember that one?  Anyway, I stopped dead in my tracks before windows with the most beautifully crafted purses, that's one of my addictions.  Shoulda taken pictures but I didn't want to seem TOO touristy, what a dope.  It was hard to back far enough away to get a good shot, that'll be my excuse.

The sweet shopkeeper spoke English fluently, and we struck up a conversation while I browsed.  The pieces were stunning and showed a level of craftsmanship you don't find much anymore.  As an artist I can certainly appreciate the TIME it takes to make something special.  She claimed her mother created the crochet-and-acrylic designs, which may or may not be true, but who cares?  She wasn't pushy and I enjoyed our interaction in the empty shop on the empty street.  Perfet timing, as it turned out.

It was hard to decide.  I passed up bright neons and nightlife-sparkly in favor of something more neutral, should I have the right opportunity.  Not exactly Oregon-style and it was a tremendous splurge, but I didn't care.  I'd left the States thinking I might buy a ring for myself, but the ones I really liked were out of my price range.  I could afford this and still have spare change. The gal changed out the style of strap for me (it's removeable) and directed me towards a place she said had the best Gyros around.

Afraid I'd missed it (the streets do all look alike), the sign finally came into view.  There was a teeny ice-cream parlor table and chairs outside, which seemed quaint but impractical in such narrow streets.  Not to mention the blasting wind coming from all directions, the island was aptly named.

There were a handful of people inside and I was led to a table against a wall, that's always comforting for some reason.  The waitress spoke enough English to tell me the specials and staff favorites.  The gyro I received was impossible to hold in your hands so I accepted the knife and fork proffered.  It was delicious, and since I don't hand-phone I surrepticiously observed interractions around me, including the group celebrating something or other.  They used knives and forks, too.  I was surprised to find eating out in Greece wasn't terribly expensive, and Mykonos was no exception

After lunch I found myself at the windmills, which were part of another excursion and celebrated in travel brochures.  Doesn't look it but there were more people up here; I was dodging traffic and people on rented motorbikes who shouldn't be.  It seemed to be the highest point on this part of the island so I headed back towards the harbor.  That's when I spotted Little Venice, full of shops and restaurants with romantic views of the setting sun, I'd passed on that excursion, too.

"The construction of the Little Venice neighborhood is estimated to have taken place from the 13th to the mid-18th century. During that timeframe, the island used to be under Venetian rule.  Most of the houses used to belong to wealthy individuals, such as merchants or captains, hence the elegant architecture of the buildings."

It had been a long day of touring Delos and emptying my pocketbook in Chora, so I decided to catch the tender to the cruise ship.  On my way down I snapped this shot of island life, complete with what looked to be an authentic Salty Dog.  I was mortified when he spotted me, stopped and began to speak.

Wracking my brain for any sliver gleaned from Learn to Read Greek in 5 Days, I hesitantly walked towards him.  I had no idea what he was trying to convey so I stood politely, hoping I hadn't inadvertently committed a tourist faux-pas.  In perfect English, the fellow whitewashing the wall finally explained,

"He has Alzheimer's."

Ahhh... "So did my mother."

He nodded knowingly in response.  No need to say more.

As I've written, I've learned about the places I visited after returning home, and I had a devil of a time finding out who is honored in this sweet little courtyard.  I Googled some obvious search words, but only found info on Manto Mavrogenous, the Heroine of Mykonos (and  the only woman to be honored with the title of General-in-chief.)  She had to be someone important enough to merit this bust.

Finally, I learned it's Melpo Axioti, (1903-1973), daughter of Mykonian musician and composer Giorgios Axiotis and a famous writer in her own right.  I wanted to include her here, for, "Female statue in front of white church bell tower," is hardly enough.

My feet were getting tired and I still had to walk along the harbor's rocky side to catch the shuttle.  My trusty walking stick continued to save me, and I easily made the connection without a hitch.

This fun donkey mural was near the shuttle's meeting point.  Donkeys were vital for transportating goods from harbors inland:

"The only way this could be done in ancient times, or even in recent history, was via mules and donkeys. These animals were the absolute lifeline of the local people, and were their invaluable assistants in conducting business and in simply being able to live on the island."

So there you go.  It was my favorite stop because it gave me the most personal glimpse of a different culture without a stopwatch or guide.  Along with countless others before me, I highly recommend Mykonos be included in your tour.

Coming soon:  The Venus de Milos

From the beginning:  Athens and the Acropolis