Mykonos, The cosmopolitan Island, Cyclades, Greece
I went back to the Mykonos of my childhood, and I saw it was a thousand times more fascinating than it had been then. The Mykonians made a miracle during all this time. Almost half a century! Everything was in tune with the traditional architecture.
“I didn’ t expect to see it like this!” my friend Evita exclaimed, turning her gaze around, “and I was to say that Mykonos had lost its soul. Apparently, it hasn’t.”
We arrived at the harbour where there was a little local, morning traffic. The fishing boats had come in and a fish market had been set up next to the small white church with the turquoise dome erected by Empress Catherine II in the 18th century, when the Aegean Sea had been under the sovereignty of the Russians. A donkey entered a cobbled street laden with fruit and vegetables, while the morning rays of the sun fell onto the opposite hills, with the white houses descending like cascades.
We went to Little Venice for coffee. Simply wonderful without the hustle and bustle of the world, which was still mostly asleep. The old captains’ houses were right on the seashore, the waves crashing in front of them. I was thinking of how the town must have been easy prey for pirates. The only thing that had saved it was the labyrinth of cobbled streets where you could easily get lost and never find your way back. But the Mykonians were also pirates, and brave merchant seafarers. Today they get rich in a different way, and in winter they enjoy their lives at European resorts not to get unused to the idea that their own island has become a resort as well.
During my stay in Mykonos, I enjoyed something I always sought but rarely found in our seas. A house on the water; waking up at sunrise and diving into the water without the need to look for a beach. So, every morning, as soon as I opened my eyes, I put on my swimsuit, went down to the rocks and entered the refreshingly icy water with a long dive. It was all so rejuvenating, and I was all alone. Delos was opposite me and ready to accept the first morning rays.
An excerpt from the book: GREECE, The Dance of the Seas