The Babe on the beach. |
In a day on Syros you can see lost mountains, explore
ancient villages, lounge in a funky beach town, and sip pineapple juice as you
watch the sunset. And all you need is 15 Euros for a scooter, and a phone to
call George. That was who I was currently talking to.
“I pick you and we drive to get scooter. Your hotel?” George
said. I trusted this proposition because he’d paid for a signboard in town. I
assume human traffickers don’t advertise.
“I don’t understand. Your hotel name?”
Can you just meet us at the Express Mart in Finikas?
“I don’t understand. Your hotel?”
Express Mart! Finikas.
“I don’t understand. Express Mart? Finikas? Thirty minutes?”
Yes! Express Mart! Finikas! Thirty minutes is great!
“I drive red car.”
**click**
Thirty minutes later and I’m pacing back and forth in front
of the Express Mart. Is that his car? What about that one? Do you think that’s
him?
“That car’s blue. That’s a bus. That’s a cat.” Raquel is
nothing if not patient.
Finally George pulled up in—as promised—a red car. We piled
in and drove off to rent a scooter. Raquel chose a blue one, and named it
Fly-trap after what it would turn our mouths into, and we were off, albeit
briefly. It seems 15 euros doesn’t exactly cover gasoline. But there’s not much
better in life than a full tank of gas and nothing to but explore, so we paid
the seven euroes it cost to fill Flytrap’s tank and vowed to discover every
nook of the island.
Aloe in Anos Syros |
Our first stop was Anos Syros, a town atop a hill built in
the 13th century by the Phoenicians. It overlooks the city of Hermopolis,
and doted on by the locals. They all insisted that to not go and wander the
streets was to not experience Syros.
So we parked Fly-trap near a marble staircase and looked
towards the top of the town. A sandy colored church poked out of a mess of
houses, laundry lines and gardens. With no clear way to the top, we meandered
in. Up and up we climbed, through a labyrinth of courtyards, potted flowers and
hidden tavernas. We smelled women cooking, heard children practicing the
violin, and saw men painting and repairing mortar, readying the town for
summer. We climbed past them all, under tiny arches, up crooked staircases, and
over sleeping cats until we arrived at the church at the top of the hill.
The Babe got us lost |
Wait, did we go this way, or that way?
“Ooh look a kitty!”
Wow that’s a beautiful view!
“Look another cat!”
We emerged from Anos Syros completely disoriented and a good
hundred vertical meters below where we had left Flytrap. To take the obvious path
would be easily a kilometer of snaking, highly trafficked road, so we braved
the labrynth again to try to find our way out. After a painfully long climb up
a staircase that meandered through wildflowers and brick ruins, we were back in
the medieval hilltop town. Like and the minotaur, I kept my hand on the
right wall, and we found our way out.
Feeling foolishly accomplished, there was nothing left to do
but explore the rest of the island.
So on we drove, around blind turns and cliff-hugging bumpy
roads until we reached the church of St. Michalis on the far end of the island.
There was nothing but a big black rock, fields of flowers and a farm with
perhaps two dozen beehives. Our curiosity quenched we headed south to the town
of Kini, where we did nothing but swim, nap on the beach, and eat fresh
anchovies from the Aegean Sea. We watched the silhouette of a lone fisherman
cast his line against the sun set of a perfect day.
In you enjoyed this post, there's more! Click for the people of Greece or here for the cats of Syros!
In you enjoyed this post, there's more! Click for the people of Greece or here for the cats of Syros!
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