The time came when I could not stay in Switzerland any longer. Snow was in the forecast—not ideal exploration weather for someone who’s only got running shoes in her bag. Besides, I had to go hole up somewhere cheaper (which, when you’re in Switzerland, means anywhere else).
I had foreseen this conclusion to my three-month European Grand Tour, so back when I purchased my ticket, I booked it into Geneva but out of Athens. All along, I knew that, at some point, I needed to get myself to Greece.
That point was October 31. I flew from rainy Zurich into Athens where I spent a day doing the classic tourist things: going to the Acropolis and the Acropolis Museum, doing the full walking tour of the city’s other ancient sites, and eating some decadent pastries. I tried to pack everything in because I’d known within minutes of getting off the subway from the airport that one day in this big, smoggy city was going to be about as much as I could handle.
I formulated an escape plan: a trip to the Saronic Islands, the closest archipelago to Athens. This destination appealed to me for a number of reasons. One, it was still open.
I’d heard over and over that ferrying out to the Dodecanese or the Cyclades was dicey in November due the mass exodus of island residents to Athens. I’d repeatedly read that it could be hard to find places to stay or eat and that the ferries had either stopped running for the season or had move to very restricted schedules. But the Saronic Islands are open all year.
The other appeal of the Saronic Islands was their proximity. The ferries leave from Athens’ port city, Piraeus, multiple times per day, and the trips are only an hour or two long.
Once I’d settled on that island group, I had to decide which of the six islands—Salamis, Aegina, Agistri, Poros, Dakos, Hydra, and Spetses—to head towards. I did a little reading, a little ferry schedule research, and a little Booking.com scrolling and decided on two: Poros and Hydra.
image courtesy of mytouristmaps
Poros attracted me because I’d read that it had a decent trail system. The same sites told me that it was unique among the Saronic Islands for having pine forest. So, I found a little traditional house (read: part of a whitewashed concrete building that shares walls with several very chatty neighbors) to rent for a few days and took the ferry out this 4000-person island.
I didn’t think there would be many tourists on Poros. And, there weren’t—on the land anyway. As soon as I got there, it became clear that everyone hanging out on Poros in November arrives on a yacht. While the main town was, for the most part, very quiet, the waterfront was not. Sailboats were lined up all along the village’s concrete edge.
There were sailors of all varieties perched out on the decks of their boats at all hours. I saw Spanish and French millennials tapping at computer keyboards, British and Swedish retirees drinking beer, and groups of Greek men playing cards and tossing back glasses of wine—all while tied to a mooring. Some of the boats appeared to be owned by the folks using them, but others were obviously charters.
Regardless of their nationality or ownership status, the yachties did get off their boats at least a few times a day to get their morning coffee, to go to the supermarket or the sailing supply store, and to have dinner.
In contrast, I was on land all day, except for a few half-hour chunks where I swam (the water was too cold for me to last any longer than that).
I alternated between working in my little house and running the Poros trails, which turned about to be a bit more like dirt roads than I was hoping. They did give afford me some good views, however, and I accidentally stumbled into an olive harvest on one of them—a process I’d wanted to see since my visit to Crete last year.
But the highlight of my time in Poros was just wandering the maze-like streets in search of new doors, new walls, new flowerpots, and new staircases. By the end of my stay there I could get back to the rental house via six different routes.
Since the same ferry that took me from Athens to Poros continued on to the island of Hydra, I hopped on it and switched venues after four days.
Hydra is twice the size of Poros and has half the number of residents. It is also a lot more famous, for a number of reasons. For starters, it’s car, motorcycle, and even bicycle free (with a few exceptions, like the town trash truck). On the island, you have two transportation options: foot and donkey—that’s it. It’s also famous for being the hangout of singer-songwriter Leonard Cohen and actress Sophia Loren, who was made an honorary resident.
Most of all, though, Hydra is known for being beautiful, charming, and traditional, albeit on the pricey and “chi-chi” side for Greece. I found the first three qualities to be completely true, and I managed to escape the last two by visiting in November. In truth, I loved Hydra—much more so than Poros.
Hydra Port is an enchanting arrival spot. Its buildings encircle the bay and rise up onto the sides of the surrounding hills, creating something like an amphitheater. The village’s cobblestone alleys hide picturesque doorways, tunnels, and rooflines waiting to be discovered around every corner. Café and taverna tables spill into these alleys, and people sit out drinking Greek coffee, ouzo, or aperol spritzes at all hours of the day.
Hydra also has a great trail system—a far more interesting one than Poros, I thought. It enabled me to run to a hilltop monastery, a secluded swimming cove, and a village on the other side of the island.
Yes, the landscape was much more arid (think: thorny shrubs, not pine trees), but in November, the open exposure made for sunny, bright exploration days.
And, yes, the car-free factor made Hydra especially appealing. Of course, I have a penchant for car-free cities (see my blogposts on Wengen, Zermatt, and Saas-Fee), so perhaps I’m a bit biased in this regard. But every time I visit one, I am reminded of their many advantages.
One is not worrying about being hit. Even on tiny Poros, people drive like maniacs both on their scooters and in their cars. Take that element off the table and wandering becomes a lot more pleasant.
Another is the quiet. It’s not until you wake up in a village hotel without morning delivery truck noise, motorcycle engine revving, and car idling that you realize how inured we are to the constant din of vehicles. Yes, there were roosters on Hydra—lots of them. But, somehow, they’re not as annoying.
The least obvious of the benefits of car-free-ness is the style in which a settlement can evolve when vehicle use isn’t a consideration. When there’s no need for garages, parking spots, parking lots, wide streets, traffic lights, traffic signs, or gas stations, there’s a whole lot more space for other things—like nature.
You end up with a village like Hydra Port, which is built up and not out, with structures stacked atop one another and separated only by steep and narrow alleyways. The open spaces around the town can be left alone.
Of course, there are some downsides to car-free life. Most of them have to do with emergencies; for example, medical attention is farther away, and firefighting is more difficult. It’s not easy for physically challenged folks to get around, and moving building materials and other heavy resources can be challenging.
Personally, those are sacrifices I’d be willing to make. It seems like the 3000 residents of Hydra—all of whom depend on tourism for their livelihood—agree, as do the hundreds of thousands of yearly visitors to the island.
We’ve got a couple of car-free towns in the US—on islands in Alaska, Maine, and Michigan. And we’re starting to see more and more car-free neighborhoods in cities. They’re small, but they’re a start.
The ferry back to Athens from Hydra stopped at Poros again. And there they were: cars, right there, right next to the dock, honking their horns. Right. Needless to say, arriving to the port city of Piraeus was even more of a rude awakening; the two places are about as diametrically opposed as possible.
Perhaps if everyone experienced that contrast, a movement towards car-free cities would be gaining momentum. In the meantime, however, we’ll all just keep descending on the towns that have already figured it out.
exploraspective 