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Our next island was NAXOS. Here the weather was starting to get hotter, around 32C degrees, phew!! I was starting to look like a chocolate woman, but it suited me, I looked healthier, even though the sun's ultra-violet rays were far from healthy in this large a dose! However, having had several operations for skin cancer in the past, it was a warning to make sure I covered-up.
The Grotto Hotel was the best yet. Very gracious and large, situated on the cliff overlooking the harbour. An ancient Roman entrance arch, withstanding the ravages of time as well as the force of the waves that often attack it, proudly graced a small rocky islet, jutting into the sea.
The hotel was within a minute walk from the township.
It was privately-owned as most are on these islands. Our host immediately welcomed us with a glass of a citron liqueur.
Neither of us would drink until he had gone. I took a small sip. It nearly blew my head off! I spat it out and dumped the lot in a vase with flowers. My friend nearly choked from the strong liquor and with tears in her eyes, she spluttered and poured hers in a carafe of water. Afterwards, I wondered if the owner secretly enjoyed watching his guests choke on his welcoming drink! If not, I am sure that he must wonder why his flowers were so happy!
We were woken by sunshine streaming in our room and church bells pealing. We enjoyed fantastic breakfasts with everything you could wish for. Even a five-star hotel would not be able to improve on it. Best of all, they were included in our room rate!
In the evening, the sunsets ignited the sky as hundreds of people lined the seaside waiting for the red globe to slowly die in the mirror-like sea. Beyond the narrow causeway extending into the sea, the historic Roman archway glowed like molten gold. The setting sun glided in between the pillars and the golden arch floated! A magical sight! As night descended, a young silver crescent moon was born from those same waters and rose into the now velvet black sky, studded liberally with shimmering stars.
Next morning we walked along the beach to another small settlement and spent the day sitting in two-person low-slung canvas beach chairs, or rather reclining in it, sipping iced fruit juices and later in the afternoon, cooled wine. A gourmet dinner was served right on the beach. A glass of luscious Greek red wine and lacey crepes, filled with fresh fruit liberally doused in Grand Marnier, brought us almost to the point of ecstasy! Oh, how I love traveling life!
We liked Naxos even better than the last two and we happily walked back to our base and our room.
Beds here are very low, manufactured of light-colored wood and they look like children’s beds. Our room looked upon an elegantly arched courtyard with a pool and a spa. On the top floor, where the staff had their rooms, a caged bird lustily sang all day long, its trilling notes pouring forth from the window above us. We took a bus to the other side and visited some picturesque fishing villages, where brightly-painted small boats bobbed on the incredibly clear water.
Naxos has more agriculture and is a bit greener. The grapes are grown here as low spreading bushes on the ground, rather than on frames or wires. Very strange.
On Tuesday morning, the 12th June, we transferred to, PAROS, the second largest island of the Cyclades and well-known as the beauty queen of the Aegean. The hills of Agii Pantes gently glide downwards to lonely pebble-covered or golden sandy bays.
Instead of the usual barren landscapes of the Cyclades, the first impression of Paros is that of a New Zealand-type-green island. A good network of bus routes entirely circumnavigates its 120 km of coastline.
Acres of wheat and barley, roll in waves over the landscape. Beds of melons, orange- and lemon trees, olive groves, figs and almonds all aid the island's economy. This island has enough water to support the crops of tomatoes, eggplants and of course, vines. The red Mantilaria and white Monemvasitika grapes, keep about a thousand local farmers busy, producing several million liters of wine every year.
A large number of writers, painters, sculptors, musicians and poets turn Paros into the cultural centre of the Cyclades.
On the island of Paros, our hotel was too far from the village to walk and high up in the hills, just underneath one of the many round Greek windmills. The mill had been built in 1770. Consequently, it was called the High Mill Hotel. The marble floors of our room were pleasantly cool underfoot.
The view here was spectacular, an endless, hazy blue. We overlooked a tropical garden, a large free-form pool and an endless, sparkling sea. Non-stop traffic of yachts, ferries, jets, catamarans, ferries and boats plied in and out of the harbour. They oxydised the clear azure waters, leaving lacey foam trails. Obviously, we spent a lot of our time on the balcony, sipping wine and admiring the spectacular sea.
We took the bus down to the town. It cost 1.20 Euro, to go anywhere and we were pleased not to have to walk as it was far too hot.
In the capital, Parikia, people stroll through the numerous alleys, or pass time in one of the tavernas opposite of the beautiful church of Ekatontapyliani, the oldest church of Greece which is still being used today. Here too, men seem to play cards, or drink in the cafes all day, while the women and donkeys do the work. Girls are chaperoned and carefully guarded, but boys are mini-gods, free to revel as they please.
Despite all the exposure to the sun, I had not become sun-burned like I would have at home. I just looked glowing and well. We definitely had enjoyed Paros.