Greek Romance
A Place Away
A Place Away
Few things inspire romance like a place away – away from the familiar surroundings, whether a beckoning cell phone or cluttered desk – that draw one into daily cares.
Few places are more away than the Greek island of Hydra. On a map it is just one of many islands that dot the Mediterranean. At the busy port of Piraeus, it is just another of many tourist choices. But after navigating the bustle of Athens and churning through the Saronic gulf waters, arriving on Hydra is like stepping into a flower.
The island’s main town is cupped in a neat arc around a compact harbor and its white blocks of houses rise up the slopes, eventually thinning out at postage stamp fields of golden wheat and silvery olive groves. Lacy church steeples rise above the clay tile roofs and shocks of pink bougainvillea drape over layers of verandahs and patios. The air is filled with the scent and sparkle of flowers and ocean spray.
Hydra’s streets are little more than marble-paved pathways reserved for walkers and the donkeys that do most of the heavy lifting on the island, toting luggage up and down to the port, transporting groceries, or conveying the occasional strong-backed resident. The streets are too narrow for vehicles of any type, aside from the island’s toy-like municipal garbage truck that works the town’s fringes and a golf cart reserved for the infirm.
Like all Greek islands, Hydra has a long and unique history. With few resources on land, early Hydriots turned to the ocean and became expert seamen. By the 1821 War of Independence, Hydra was able to supply 130 ships, two thirds of the Greek fleet.
The sea trade made the island wealthy and its proximity to Athens has made it a popular getaway for everyone from prime ministers to rock stars. Today, Athenians enjoy Hydra as a weekend getaway, just an over an hour away by hydrofoil.
At Piraeus, make your way past the hieroglyphic ticket dealer signs and head toward the water. Hellenic Seaways has a ticket kiosk on the harbor, just steps from where the hydrofoil docks. These neat little boats churn above the water, busily efficient, loading quickly and charging off to the next port. The ride to Hydra quick and scenic, never out of site of land, with a brief stop commuter stop at the island of Poros. Fifteen minutes later, Hydra is in view and the crazed life of Athens seems a world away.
The life of the town ebbs and flows through the week and each boat creates a wave of activity at the port as visitors wash ashore. The town’s portside shops and cafes are briefly and thrillingly buffeted by daytrippers who tend to hover around the harbor and nearby swimming rocks.
Residents quickly commandeer a donkey or handcart driver to get their groceries and luggage up the hills, and visitors with more than a few hours can quickly escape the hustle to find a quiet room in one the town’s tucked away inns in the maze of back streets.
The island’s limited room for expansion has kept its traditional scale and architecture intact and Hydriots have made the most of their history. The charms of the Miranda Hotel are discretely hidden behind a high whitewashed wall, but push the brass door handle on the double wood doors that open into an L-shaped patio and you’ll see a voluptuously curved sofa, upholstered in white linen, beneath a shady pergola. Peopled by snoozing cats and drowsing guests, the patio is so charming and inviting that it seems to be a living postcard.
The inside of the house is cool and dark, with its own sparkle and glow. Wooden doors and cabinetry gleam and the glass cases are filled with family photos and artifacts. One case holds a set of stephana, the traditional wedding crowns of a Greek Orthodox marriage ceremony. The crowns are simple ribbon garlanded wreaths, linked by more ribbon, and are meant to unite the husband and wife in their own household kingdom. They are always carefully preserved.
The Miranda’s hallways are hung with old maps of the island and with embroidered linens that are at once homespun and supremely elegant. But this is not a musty home for relics; the Miranda is a considered composition of texture, shape, and color. It is luxurious and calm, with the quiet and simple voluptuousness of a ripe apricot.
Room three is at the front of the house, on the second floor. Its fourteen foot ceilings are painted in the scrolled patterns of the crafted style of Greek Victorian decoration. Two sets of French doors lead to a verandah furnished with two chairs, a small table, an unfurled umbrella, and another postcard view. In the distance, blue sea girds the white town. In the foreground, more bougainvillea, a snoozing cat, and the potted garden of rigani and basil in the neighbor’s patio. Even the bathroom, with its slice of window squeezed between a mirror and hewn wooden beam, has a view.
In the morning, a random tattoo of church bells will wake you, not because anyone on the island has to get anywhere, but really to herald another crystalline day. You must roll over, peel open an eyelid, and acknowledge its beauty, but you are allowed to roll back over and slide into sleep.
Breakfast is gently served on the patio. Choose a table, and almost invisibly coffee, a soft-cooked egg, slices of rustic bread, curls of butter, juice, and thick yogurt to be drizzled with sunshine flavored honey appear accompanied by the gentle tinkling of crockery and silverware.
Later, wander down to the port. Let the tourist wave subside and you’ll have the seaside shop windows to yourself. Hydra’s shopkeepers offer goods from traditional to trendy, whether it’s the woolen saddle pads that adorn the island’s donkeys, woven with images of mermaids, dolphins and sloops, or the bold jewelry of Eleni Votsi, designer of the 2002 Olympic Medals.
Votsi has worked for Gucci and is no stranger to high design. Her own designs are inspired by Greek traditions and the shapes of nature. From gold to iron, pearls to beach-smoothed pebbles, her work makes standout souvenirs.
Or visit Achilles’ cafe at the harbor’s far end let him make you a gyro or lemonade. From the benches in front of his shop you can watch the hubbub of yachts docking from home ports like Valletta, Barcelona, Gibraltar, and London. Their uniformed crews leap from deck to dock, tense to every movement that brings their luxurious charges close, but not too close the the craggy stone pier.
Follow the road past Achilles’ and it will narrow and rise to a promontory overlooking the sea and the harbor. Follow the folded flights of stone steps down to a cafe perched on the cliff, well situated for sunset viewing or a few flights farther down to the stage-like arrangement of rocks, where swimmers sun themselves and dive into the sea.
If you are feeling energetic and small but sturdy varkoula will ferry you to Vlachos beach. Like many Greek beaches, it has a stony shore but its clear and calm waters are irresistible. Also like many Greek beaches, Vlachos has an umbrella and lounge concession and a cafe just a few steps away dispensing ice cream, coffee frappes, and salads of tomatoes and cucumbers that are as crisp as the ocean waters. Sleep, swim, and take the next boat back whenever you are ready.
Or just wander, turning which ever way seems most intriguing. You’ll end up at the castle standing sentinel above the town, or in the quiet neighborhoods that drape over hills and suddenly open into tiny plateas. Or you may end up in the high, spare pasturelands, as the highlight of a chicken’s day. Stop to admire a particularly graceful door knocker or a magisterial cat. Eventually you will spill out into the wide footpath along the cliff with an invigorating view of the sea.
With the scent of flowers on every breeze, each seemingly haphazard building or fruit crate comes together in harmonies of color and texture. Being on Hydra is like living in a flower, fragrant, enclosed, and soothing. The town is as intricate as the the tiny motes that make a piece of coral, each one distinct, but bound into a beautiful whole. It is the glorious physical setting of the thousands of individual decisions that make the island a hive of activity where there is always something to look at, admire, and enjoy.
Few places are more away than the Greek island of Hydra. On a map it is just one of many islands that dot the Mediterranean. At the busy port of Piraeus, it is just another of many tourist choices. But after navigating the bustle of Athens and churning through the Saronic gulf waters, arriving on Hydra is like stepping into a flower.
The island’s main town is cupped in a neat arc around a compact harbor and its white blocks of houses rise up the slopes, eventually thinning out at postage stamp fields of golden wheat and silvery olive groves. Lacy church steeples rise above the clay tile roofs and shocks of pink bougainvillea drape over layers of verandahs and patios. The air is filled with the scent and sparkle of flowers and ocean spray.
Hydra’s streets are little more than marble-paved pathways reserved for walkers and the donkeys that do most of the heavy lifting on the island, toting luggage up and down to the port, transporting groceries, or conveying the occasional strong-backed resident. The streets are too narrow for vehicles of any type, aside from the island’s toy-like municipal garbage truck that works the town’s fringes and a golf cart reserved for the infirm.
Like all Greek islands, Hydra has a long and unique history. With few resources on land, early Hydriots turned to the ocean and became expert seamen. By the 1821 War of Independence, Hydra was able to supply 130 ships, two thirds of the Greek fleet.
The sea trade made the island wealthy and its proximity to Athens has made it a popular getaway for everyone from prime ministers to rock stars. Today, Athenians enjoy Hydra as a weekend getaway, just an over an hour away by hydrofoil.
At Piraeus, make your way past the hieroglyphic ticket dealer signs and head toward the water. Hellenic Seaways has a ticket kiosk on the harbor, just steps from where the hydrofoil docks. These neat little boats churn above the water, busily efficient, loading quickly and charging off to the next port. The ride to Hydra quick and scenic, never out of site of land, with a brief stop commuter stop at the island of Poros. Fifteen minutes later, Hydra is in view and the crazed life of Athens seems a world away.
The life of the town ebbs and flows through the week and each boat creates a wave of activity at the port as visitors wash ashore. The town’s portside shops and cafes are briefly and thrillingly buffeted by daytrippers who tend to hover around the harbor and nearby swimming rocks.
Residents quickly commandeer a donkey or handcart driver to get their groceries and luggage up the hills, and visitors with more than a few hours can quickly escape the hustle to find a quiet room in one the town’s tucked away inns in the maze of back streets.
The island’s limited room for expansion has kept its traditional scale and architecture intact and Hydriots have made the most of their history. The charms of the Miranda Hotel are discretely hidden behind a high whitewashed wall, but push the brass door handle on the double wood doors that open into an L-shaped patio and you’ll see a voluptuously curved sofa, upholstered in white linen, beneath a shady pergola. Peopled by snoozing cats and drowsing guests, the patio is so charming and inviting that it seems to be a living postcard.
The inside of the house is cool and dark, with its own sparkle and glow. Wooden doors and cabinetry gleam and the glass cases are filled with family photos and artifacts. One case holds a set of stephana, the traditional wedding crowns of a Greek Orthodox marriage ceremony. The crowns are simple ribbon garlanded wreaths, linked by more ribbon, and are meant to unite the husband and wife in their own household kingdom. They are always carefully preserved.
The Miranda’s hallways are hung with old maps of the island and with embroidered linens that are at once homespun and supremely elegant. But this is not a musty home for relics; the Miranda is a considered composition of texture, shape, and color. It is luxurious and calm, with the quiet and simple voluptuousness of a ripe apricot.
Room three is at the front of the house, on the second floor. Its fourteen foot ceilings are painted in the scrolled patterns of the crafted style of Greek Victorian decoration. Two sets of French doors lead to a verandah furnished with two chairs, a small table, an unfurled umbrella, and another postcard view. In the distance, blue sea girds the white town. In the foreground, more bougainvillea, a snoozing cat, and the potted garden of rigani and basil in the neighbor’s patio. Even the bathroom, with its slice of window squeezed between a mirror and hewn wooden beam, has a view.
In the morning, a random tattoo of church bells will wake you, not because anyone on the island has to get anywhere, but really to herald another crystalline day. You must roll over, peel open an eyelid, and acknowledge its beauty, but you are allowed to roll back over and slide into sleep.
Breakfast is gently served on the patio. Choose a table, and almost invisibly coffee, a soft-cooked egg, slices of rustic bread, curls of butter, juice, and thick yogurt to be drizzled with sunshine flavored honey appear accompanied by the gentle tinkling of crockery and silverware.
Later, wander down to the port. Let the tourist wave subside and you’ll have the seaside shop windows to yourself. Hydra’s shopkeepers offer goods from traditional to trendy, whether it’s the woolen saddle pads that adorn the island’s donkeys, woven with images of mermaids, dolphins and sloops, or the bold jewelry of Eleni Votsi, designer of the 2002 Olympic Medals.
Votsi has worked for Gucci and is no stranger to high design. Her own designs are inspired by Greek traditions and the shapes of nature. From gold to iron, pearls to beach-smoothed pebbles, her work makes standout souvenirs.
Or visit Achilles’ cafe at the harbor’s far end let him make you a gyro or lemonade. From the benches in front of his shop you can watch the hubbub of yachts docking from home ports like Valletta, Barcelona, Gibraltar, and London. Their uniformed crews leap from deck to dock, tense to every movement that brings their luxurious charges close, but not too close the the craggy stone pier.
Follow the road past Achilles’ and it will narrow and rise to a promontory overlooking the sea and the harbor. Follow the folded flights of stone steps down to a cafe perched on the cliff, well situated for sunset viewing or a few flights farther down to the stage-like arrangement of rocks, where swimmers sun themselves and dive into the sea.
If you are feeling energetic and small but sturdy varkoula will ferry you to Vlachos beach. Like many Greek beaches, it has a stony shore but its clear and calm waters are irresistible. Also like many Greek beaches, Vlachos has an umbrella and lounge concession and a cafe just a few steps away dispensing ice cream, coffee frappes, and salads of tomatoes and cucumbers that are as crisp as the ocean waters. Sleep, swim, and take the next boat back whenever you are ready.
Or just wander, turning which ever way seems most intriguing. You’ll end up at the castle standing sentinel above the town, or in the quiet neighborhoods that drape over hills and suddenly open into tiny plateas. Or you may end up in the high, spare pasturelands, as the highlight of a chicken’s day. Stop to admire a particularly graceful door knocker or a magisterial cat. Eventually you will spill out into the wide footpath along the cliff with an invigorating view of the sea.
With the scent of flowers on every breeze, each seemingly haphazard building or fruit crate comes together in harmonies of color and texture. Being on Hydra is like living in a flower, fragrant, enclosed, and soothing. The town is as intricate as the the tiny motes that make a piece of coral, each one distinct, but bound into a beautiful whole. It is the glorious physical setting of the thousands of individual decisions that make the island a hive of activity where there is always something to look at, admire, and enjoy.
If You Go:
www.mirandahotel.gr
for pictures, rates, and on-line reservations
www.hellenicseaways.gr
buy tickets on-line and pick them up at the port at least thirty minutes before departure
Elena Votsi’s work is invariably mentioned in every review of chic Greek shops and can be purchased in her shops on Hydra or in the fashionable Athen’s neighborhood of Kolonaki.
www.mirandahotel.gr
for pictures, rates, and on-line reservations
www.hellenicseaways.gr
buy tickets on-line and pick them up at the port at least thirty minutes before departure
Elena Votsi’s work is invariably mentioned in every review of chic Greek shops and can be purchased in her shops on Hydra or in the fashionable Athen’s neighborhood of Kolonaki.