Blues Everywhere You Look

- July 15, 2019

We woke up in Mykonos to a blue world.

Mykonos was a tender port, so we lined up for tickets to take these small boats from the Koningsdam to the old port of Mykonos. Not knowing exactly how long it would take, we allowed plenty of margin for error and got the port well in advance of our tour.

The wind was whipping across the port, making the day cool and clear.

Since we were early, we popped into a port cafe for a quick pitstop. The server seated us with a gracious smile, which vanished when she learned only one of us was ordering a meal. She took away the other placemats and her smile. Didn't faze us.

Our tour stop was at the other end of the port's harbor, and we took a leisurely walk to get there that included a bathroom break, where we all learned that not all Greek toilets have seats. (I actually bought a "personal urination device" that allows women to pee standing up months ago and--because a PUD is not usually top of mind for me, forgot it. So I guess I can sell it on eBay as "never used." :))

We booked a tour of Mykonos through the Shore Excursions site. While the route of the tour was good, capturing all the must-sees, and our guide was fine, the van the company used did not have a microphone, so those of us in the back (my family) heard only bits of the narration. Still, you can't beat views like this.

I chose to stay up on the hill; the rest ran right down to the outlook, where the wind almost knocked Harper into the sea.

To give you a sense of how high up we were: that's our massive ship way down there.

At one of the photo stops, I peaked over a wall--nice digs! Our guide shared that families on Mykonos usually did not sell their land. Instead, the subdivided it into homesites for their children and grandchildren. We also learned that the island really only comes to life for the months from June to October; after that almost everything closes up: restaurants, shops, theaters, doctors offices, etc. This goes back to the two seasons that our catamaran pilots shared with us: summer and everything else.

We stopped in a small village for a snack/bathroom break. Penn and I found the bakery: he grabbed a sandwich and I got the best baklava I've had in my life. So honey-filled, sugar for days! Not seen in this photo: a table of older Greek gentlemen who clearly come to the bakery every day to sit in the shade and argue about stuff.

We wandered a bit and found all the blue and white to be on point. One thing our guide shared: it's not a law that all buildings are blue and white except for commercial structures--where municipalities can hold up licenses and things to force the color scheme. In fact, on our tour, we saw lots of different shades of blues but also some greys, lilacs, greens, and rusty red browns. The latter two historically indicated that someone was a fisherman or a farmer. We also learned why almost every home we saw had its own chapel: families must dig up the bones of their dead and inter them in their own chapel. Okay--totally not creepy.

While the US is experiencing a move back to the cities, on islands like Mykonos, young people are moving out to properties with more land and space in order to avoid the crowding from tourists.

We had a quick stop at a beach resort where sun beds went for about 25 euros each. Most beaches are lined with sun beds associated with the adjacent bar, restaurant, or hotel and watched over by management, which shoos away anyone not paying for the bed.

It took everything we had not to jump into this gorgeous water.

Back on the bus, we kept on our journey to central Mykonos, passing by one of the old windmills that has become a symbol of Greece.

There it is--spread out like a white blanket before us.

Honestly, I could have taken a photo of everything we saw in Mykonos old town. The narrow streets of white buildings make the already ridiculously blue sky even bluer. Our guide, Linda, lives on Mykonos as an ex-pat from England. She noted that when older people on the island talk about how things used to be, they're really talking about the life that used to fill alleys like the one below. Families would sit on the stoops and exchange stories and gossip while watching the children play and preparing the night's meals. As I noted above, these children grew up and moved to the suburbs or to other islands/countries, so this culture is lost. Basically, it's the story of the neighborhoods of any urban area (for example, Linda's description would fit my Grandma McIntosh's neighborhood)--some things are universal.

Bougainvillea has never looked lovelier.

And, as much as it looks like a backlot creation or a staged Disney park world, people really live here.

More windmills--they're all private homes now as well as highly trafficked tourist attractions. It must be like living in the Statue of Liberty.

As we turned the corner to walk along the sea wall, Harper spied a restaurant with a large and inviting gf menu. So we said goodbye to our tour group and hello to another al fresco table with a seaside view.

I could eat the smoky, melting eggplant that Greeks work into magical salads every single day (and actually think I have).

And, no pita has ever been better.

Filled with yummy lunch and ready to resume walking. Between a veggie heavy diet and endless climbs up and down steep hills and staircases, it's no wonder all the Greeks we saw were fairly fit.