It was the early 1980s, decades before Airbnb, and the worldwide web didn’t exist, so there was so much adventurous spirit involved in finding a very basic but functional village room in a local house when we stepped off the boat onto this verdant, pretty isle full of pine and olive trees and very little else.
We spent three weeks floating around on inflatables in rock pools on the beach, tanning diligently, eating Greek salads and simply grilled seafood and reading trashy novels instead of English literature classics. On the way home, we visited the Acropolis and hung out in a cheap and very cheerful Athens café drinking ouzo until it was time to catch our flight home.
It was the start of an enduring love affair with Greece which has lasted four decades and shows no sign of abating. By the time you read this, I’ll be island-hopping between the Cycladic islands of Serifos and Sifnos, with not much changing since that first trip apart from trading those spartan village rooms for slightly more chic lodgings.
The following year came a trip of an entirely different kind – a wild, party-fuelled holiday in Benitses, on Corfu, with a gang of girlfriends to celebrate the end of our A level mocks which mainly consisted of clubbing ‘til dawn, sleeping until midday and during the few lucid awake moments in the afternoon, hopping on the back of various mopeds to explore the island made famous by Gerald Durrell. I met my future husband there on a golden beach in the glorious town of Glyfada.
Next came hedonistic Mykonos, the super stylish, then mainly gay isle where together with my brother-in-law to be and his boyfriend, we spent two summers hopping on water taxis to the untouched beaches of Paradise and Super Paradise by day and hitting the cool bars and drag clubs of Chora by night, always making time for a late, languid and sun dappled breakfast of fresh orange juice, crusty bread and jam in the little undone lanes of Mykonos Town.
This was 1985 and 1986 and I have to say that my times there can never be topped. While still hugely popular with the well-heeled yachting and party set, friends who have visited more recently bemoan the expense, development and glamorisation of what has become very much a see-and-be-seen kind of place where a feet-in-the-sand lunch and a couple of glasses of wine at Scorpios on Paraga beach can easily cost €150 - €200 a head.
Since the eighties, I’ve been fortunate enough to visit many other islands – Poros, Hydra and Delos while still child-free, Kefalonia on an idyllic family holiday with our two young daughters, and more recently, Skiathos, Skopelos, Alonissos and Santorini as a couple once again now that the girls have flown the nest.
Some things have definitely changed for the better. I was astonished to discover the delicious Sigalas Assyrtiko white wine indigenous to Santorini while staying in Oia, which easily competes with the dry, aromatic bouquet of a Sancerre or Chablis. Oenophiles will find themselves very much at home exploring the volcanic island’s myriad vineyards, which thrive on the arid volcanic ash-rich soil of Santorini and Paros.
Gastronomy is also taking off with a vengeance. The Greek food scene has been attracting attention for a while now, with starry names including Jason Atherton and Zuma opening in Mykonos.
And although I’m excited about the grilled fish and simple salads to come, I can’t deny I’m hugely looking forward to trying Omega3, a rustic beach shack in Sifnos established by local hero George Samoilis, who studied molecular biology before modestly reinventing Greek cuisine. His second island restaurant Cantina, on a little beach at the foot of Kastro, prides itself on seasonal, sustainable cooking with zero waste and is lauded by leading chefs in London and beyond.
Reinvention can have its drawbacks, however. Paros, which sees the opening of its first international airport in 2025, seems to have morphed into the ‘new’ Mykonos while nobody was looking. Two summers ago, it was impossible to eat on the waterfront in the chic beach town of Naoussa without booking weeks or months in advance. I mean, who wants to worry about booking restaurants before you even arrive on what’s supposed to be a carefree escape from the daily grind?
Chatting to Paros boutique and restaurant owners, the arrival of the new airport was greeted with caution rather than open arms. “Not everyone is thrilled about it,” one told me. “We don’t want to be the ‘new’ anything, we are happy with the way things are. The island doesn’t need to get any busier.”
That said, mass tourism is beckoning, as those in search of the latest hotspot descend. We watched as chichi hotel groups like Cosme opened their five star doors cheek by jowl to the multi-million euro new architect designed villas being constructed on Agioi Anargyroi beach and mused on what this still charming but rapidly developing tourist mecca might be like five years from now.
Conversely, its sister island, Antiparos, is a fabulous example of how things can be done, retaining an infinitely more laidback, manana feel (with one Mykonos-style exception, the blingtastic Veuve Clicquot outpost at Soros Beach.) A 10 minute hop on the open-deck ferry from Pounta to Antiparos and you are transported to a bohemian paradise of quirky local artisan boutiques, sun-drenched cafes and a verdant, leafy island interior which is best explored in an open-top ATV.
The Rooster embodies everything that’s good about Antiparos. Sustainably designed across 30 acres of hills, ruins and sand dunes above Livadia, its superbly camouflaged 16 private houses were built to blend in rather than interrupt the landscape and represent pared back, barefoot luxury at its very best. The House of Healing spa, restaurant, hotel lobby and terrace follow a similar theme, crafted from local stone and wood, with concrete floors and rough-hewn marble and the kitchen offers traditional Greek cooking with a farm-to-fork philosophy based supplied by their nearby smallholding.
The brainchild of shipping heiress Athanasia Comninos, her passion to create a wellness resort in keeping with the spirit of this isle is commendable. Once the preserve of backpacking hippies who came here in the 1970s to dance under the stars at Disco La Luna and worship Jim Morrison at The Doors bar - both spots are still going strong – Antiparos is still the favoured, slightly under the radar Hellenic destination of a sophisticated boho set.
“Initially I planned to build a handful of serviced villas,” she says. “But after I got divorced, I went to Chiva-Som in Thailand where I discovered Kundalini yoga and an amazing healer. I was cured of a health issue in three days.”
She bought a summer house at Livadia, adding plots of land as they came up for sale, and created a stylish yet rustic oasis with family friend Fania Sinanioti, of Athens-based architects Vois, naming it after the wake-up call that transformed her life.
“I wanted to attract guests who are quiet and content, respectful of nature and unpretentious, who have been there and done that. Understated people, artists, creatives, business people with a low profile, not show offs.”
Fortunately, there are plenty of other islands which have so far evaded rampant commercialisation and thrive on more niche tourism. A friend raves about the old-school atmosphere of Patmos, and I have it on excellent local authority that Folegandros, Koufonisia, Anafi, Milos, Kea, Cythira and Syros deliver something akin to the Greek isle experience of old. You heard it here first.
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