Discover Syros

Syros is not known for it's beaches but we found some nice ones. Most of the sheltered coves have small towns around them and though some are slightly touristy there are none that are overwhelmingly so. In comparison even Sifnos seems exploited. Vari was calm enough to swim and the water was clear and blue.

There was a hotel right on the beach called the KAMELO that had a restaurant too. In fact most of the hotels on the beaches seem to have restaurants. They are not really like hotel restauants either. The food is regular everyday Greek restaurant food like that eaten by regular everyday Greeks. The reason is that most of the tourists who visit this island are Greeks, and many of the people who visit these beaches are people who live in Hermoupolis, who come there for a day of swimming.

The beach town of Delagratsia was full of old mansions owned by wealthy shipowners. We drove past Agathopes beach, notable for the Navy base and destroyer parked nearby and a sign that said "No Pictures Allowed."

At a small beach called Komito we disregarded a No Tresspassing sign and climbed over a fence to get a closer look at an old mansion that was falling into ruin. We could hear music coming from inside and when Amarandi stepped on a stick, a dog began furiously barking and a man came out on the balcony to see what was the matter. We nervously explained that we were just having a look around. He told us he was from New York and this had been his grandfathers house and they spend the summers here.

There was an extension cord running from the deserted cafe on the beach all the way to the house and that was powering the television that we could hear. We asked why he didn't fix up the place and he explained that people would just destroy it if he did. There was an enormous well that people had thrown plastic bottles, a cystern the size of a swimming pool (or maybe it was a pool), that was full of black muck.

There was an old church full of hay and various other buildings. He told us to feel free to wander around the grounds and then went back to watch TV with his wife who was calling him in.

We stopped in Finikas for lunch. Then drove on to Kini which was easily the nicest village and the best beach. Andrea and I had coffees at a small taverna on the beach that was closing for the season. I walked over to the SUNSET Hotel which had a restaurant and a snack bar where I spoke to George Zalonis, the owner.

Kini is the best spot on Syros to watch the sunset. What surprised me most about Syros is how close all the villages are to one another. You leave the outskirts of one and you come to the next.


Ano Syra

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When we left Kini we drove to the top of the mountain and found ourselves looking at the city of Hermoupolis below. Our ultimate destination was the village of Ano Syra which rises above Hermoupolis and is crowned by a Catholic Cathedral.

We parked the car and enter a labrynth of tiny streets and stairways among houses, shops, restaurants and churches. Our first stop was an old barber who shaved my beard and told us he knew Markos Vamvakaris, the famous rembetika player who wrote "Frankosyrianni", one of the most popular Greek songs. It's about a Catholic girl from Syros and the entire time he was shaving me the song played in my head. I think he was a little nervous because he cut me several times, but even so I found it to be a pleasant experience, like getting a massage, and I vowed to never shave myself again.

With my new fresh face I found the strength to make my way to the top of the village where the view was fantastic. The girls and I had gotten seperated but we discovered all roads lead to Rome and met one another at the Catholic church on top.

When we went back down we were told that the Markos Vamvakaris Museum was closed and we had to be satisfied with standing in Markos Vamvakaris square and looking at his statue. I wondered if three quarters of a century ago, while Vamvakaris smoked hashish and played bouzouki with his pals, he could even concieve that one day there would be a museum, statue and a village square in his hometown named after him. When we returned to Hermoupolis Andrea saw one more part of the village she wanted to visit which was the area called Vaporia, where some of the mansions of the seacaptians are.

But driving through the tiny cobbled streets we became ensnared in a wedding party traffic jam and it took all our efforts to escape and we did not see much. Instead we went back to the hotel and dressed up for my birthday dinner. We had learned to trust Niko the concierge's advice about food and found a tiny Taverna off Miaouli square called Archondiaki where we had dinner after wandering around the streets working up an appetite. The square was alive with activity. The Giant Town hall had several cafes in it and the area seemed to be a popular hangout for highschool students.

In Mykonos there is a portion of the town known as 'Little Venice'. It's only a few buildings and pretty, but unspectacular. But if that is 'Little Venice' what can you call these great stone buildings that have been battered by waves for a hundred winters? Mykonos is hype. The myth had to be created, the city built from a small village. Hermoupolis has been a city, and a successful one. Now with the restoration of that city it's a unique experience as far as the islands go. This is a place that is waiting to be discovered and once it is may rival cities on the Riviera. It's an intact nineteenth century city. They didn't have the tourist money to tear down old buildings to build fancy new hotels and destroy the town. As we walked through the small streets last night I said to Andrea that this is what the Plaka should be like.

Maybe human nature is the key.Some islands rushed to convert to the tourist industry and in many cases destroyed their charm. Because Syros was a commercial center (Hermoupolis was named for Hermes: God of commerce. Get it?) and not reliant on tourism they restored slowly and built intelligently. The city is a museum and the only blemish are the cars that are everywhere. If they were excluded from the city interior you might be walking around a hundred years ago.

Syros is like an older woman who was once beautiful with many suitors who hears that these suitors are returning. With the help of makeup, cosmetic surgery and some hard work she restores herself to her former beauty, in fact her maturity and elegance may make her more beautiful then she was when she was young. As we wander around the streets of Hermoupolis I see the same thing happening here. Buildings that were in ruins for years are now being restored, or sold to people who can afford to restore them. These are not simple island village homes,but grand old mansions and public buildings, because in the mid eighteen-hundreds this was one of the cultural capitals of Europe. The Apollon Opera house was host to a great number of Italian theatre companies and other performers. There were schools that offered a high quality of education, a Philological Institute, a maritime school, a French school, and many other institutions.


The Neorion shipping company where the giant tankers are repaired, built it's first steamship in 1854 and the city was a hotbed of commerce. All of this is evident on every street and particularly so on the backside of the city beneath the church of St Nicolas where the mansions rise out of the sea.

Syros harbour is great for ferry watching and the Kimata Hotel is about the best vantage point, particularly room number 6. The balcony is big enough for a cafeneon table and with the sun setting over the mountain and the harbor, it's paradise. Unfortunately with limited time and many ouzeries to explore and grilled octopus to eat, we never did open our can of sardines, our bottle of Ouzo Mini, and the traveling metal ouzo glasses Andrea had bought me in America.

There is a long jetty that protects the harbor where old men fish and children take walks with their grandparents. I wish the sea was a little warmer because the rocks of the jetty are an octopus paradise and my mask and flippers are just dead weight in my knapsack.

We have settled on the Yaninea Restaurant as our favorite eating place, not only because we love the food, especially the roast lamb, potato crockettes, black-eyed pea salad, and large assortment of ther dishes, but because it is right across the street from our hotel and I don't have to carry Amarandi very far if she falls asleep.

Amarandi and I swam beneath the sea captians mansions near Agious Nicholaos church, along with several old men and women who apparently make a daily routine of it. The sea was warm and calm and to swim in clear water, surrounded by large buildings was an unusual sensation.

Leaving Syros was hard. I could easily have spent another week there but I can always go back. We booked our tickets for the first boat of the day ominously called the Nais Express. Everytime I see the word Express in a ship's name I am suspicious. It's as if the Greek shipping companies believe if they use the word, the ship will go faster. Actually they know that people will believe it goes faster. Usually it doesn't and in the case of the Nais Express, we arrived in Pireaus half an hour after the Nais II which left Syros a half an hour later then we did.