A-Maze-ing Mykonos!
The early morning ferry (or ‘Sea Jet’, to be precise) waits for no-one. Packed-up and still fuelled by adrenalin from the multiple jolting alarms we’d set in order not to miss it, we hurried down to the sleepy port. There was a Sea Jet there ready and waiting, which we assumed was ours, but Ross’ enquiry as to whether indeed it was our vessel was met with a resounding ‘no’ from the ferry conductor. He told us the waiting ship was the 7 o’clock ferry and that ours was yet to arrive, despite the fact it was already after 7. The so-called 7 o’clock ferry turned out to most definitely be the 7:50 ferry, unless they swapped out one for the other while we weren’t looking.
As we lugged our bags aboard and found our seats, we heard a familiar, distinctive Australian accent coming from the front of the boat, saying: “I reckon I’ll have a crack at that one mate”. All 4 of the giant tv screens on the ferry were broadcasting a riveting episode of “Aussie Gold Hunters” - complete with Greek subtitles - about a couple of knock about Aussie outback mates digging for gold in Kalgoorlie. With a bit of luck, they’d uncover enough of the stuff to be able to shout themselves a couple of cases of beer. The Sea Jet channel also advertised other Aussie classics coming up, like “Outback Truckers”, “Aussie Salvage Squad”, “Sydney Harbour Force” and our favourite: “Aussie Bull Catchers”. We wondered how you’d say “beauty bottler” in Greek. This explains the funny looks we get when people find out where we are from.
The harried kiosk attendant, whose shirt buttons were working as hard as he was, made us some coffee and suggested I try his delicious ham and cheese pie. Ross thought he’d give the feta a whirl, his tasty breakfast roll also filled with olives and other Mediterranean delights.
Our Sea Jet was an island hopper and pulled in briefly to the ports of Sifnos and Paros before reaching our destination of Mykonos. We had a lovely FaceTime chat with Sam as we sailed around. Pulling into port, there was a bit of push and shove as people grabbed for their bags, vying for the coveted title of First Off The Ferry. Our Airbnb host had told us to grab some €2 tickets for the Sea Bus and head straight into town. He’d sent us coordinates for the exact geographical location where we were to meet, as they don’t have addresses as such, in Mykonos. We saw a sign that said ‘Sea Bus Tickets’ so purchased ours but were very perplexed as to where all the buses might be. We couldn’t see a bus anywhere for miles around. The throng of passengers that had left the ticket office had purpose in their stride and looked worth following. As we rounded the bend, there on the water was a little ferry with the huge letters SEA BUS painted on its side.
Oh…sea….bus. A bus…on the sea!
It was a super short trip on the Sea Bus (what can you expect for €2?) and the sun had come out in all its glory by the time we disembarked.
Plugging the coordinates into our GPS, we made our way along the narrow streets, hoping to find our host George waiting somewhere inside this maze, ready to meet us. The bumpy, uneven, stony paving, so iconic and Greek-islandesque, while undoubtably aesthetically pleasing, is absolutely not conducive to the wheeling of big heavy bags. Weaving through crowds, down narrow lanes, shoving our bags over bumps and out of ditches, avoiding maniacs on mopeds… was hard work. We ploughed on, the sun beating down, hoping our Rexona wouldn’t let us down. One of the girls that had been on our ferry had a dodgy wheel on her bag, every rotation squealing like a parrot in a vice. You could hear her coming for miles.
George magically appeared and led us up a very steep staircase, wedged between a bank and a handbag shop, to our Mykonos digs. The place is so cute and is right in the thick of all the action. Our little front balcony looking over the busy street, is a people-watching paradise. There’s a living area downstairs and a really steep staircase leading up to a bedroom and a toilet that’s literally in a closet. It has bare stone walls on the interior and whitewashed walls outside, with bright blue shutters.
As you can imagine, our building isn’t the only one here that fits that description, making it near impossible to pick it out in a line-up. The streets are numerous and all extremely similar. We found ourselves looking for landmarks within the complex little maze, only to find another shop/ church/ restaurant on another street that looked exactly the same. It felt like we were in the hall of mirrors at Luna Park. Just when we thought we’d nailed it and home was in sight, we’d round a bend and realise we had been walking in a huge circle. The GPS seemed to struggle with all the thick concrete of the buildings and slipped in and out. Directionally challenged at the best of times, I’m accustomed to getting lost, but if Ross is walking in circles and can’t find his way, I know we are in trouble.
This place is Milos on steroids with everything open, everything pumping and people everywhere. Apparently it opened up on the 1st April, giving it a full month’s head start on most of the other islands. Full restaurants were overflowing into street-side dining areas as shoppers piled into trendy designer boutiques, shoe shops and high-end jewellers. It is absolutely stunning and just how it looks in the movies, around every corner there’s another perfect photo opportunity.
This afternoon we wandered up to look at the iconic Mykonos windmills and were amazed to read that they were actually still in use as flour mills until the 1950s. They are all looking a little decrepit now and the one we can spy from our bedroom window has even lost all its blades.
Speaking of losing things, after a nice drink down at a waterfront bar, a ferocious wind blew up over the water and we headed in the direction of home. I saw a pair of nice shoes on sale in a shop and made the rookie error of saying i’d come back later and have a proper look. The sales girl, sensing the sale might be slipping through her fingers, for reasons unbeknownst to us, pressed a card into my hand saying: “you may need this - it will be hard to find us again”. Never was a truer word spoken. “Now, I know it was around here somewhere…” Like a needle in a haystack, that elusive shoe shop remains buried deep in the labyrinth. I seriously doubt we’ll ever see those shoes or that girl ever again.
Our first Mykonos dinner was in a very cool (and packed) restaurant that had actual trees growing inside, offering a leafy canopy above our heads. There was a DJ in the corner spinning some happening tunes and a plethora of over-attentive waiters making sure the tide in our water glasses never ebbed too low. One American tourist we overheard, summed it up perfectly: “this place is just vibing off the charts”.
