Mykonos shouldn’t really exist: it’s so
barren, there’s no vegetation or water, no soil to grow anything – just fish.
But Onassis took a shine to it, and brought all his famous friends here,
including of course Jackie O, and it became a party island full of bars and
restaurants so popular that the residents earn so much during the
April-November season that they can then shut up shop and jet off to the
Maldives for their own beach holiday.
Though I would hate to be here when it’s
heaving with rich, drunk people, today it was very pretty and appealing, all
narrow winding paved lanes, bougainvillea, windmills, cats and churches. The
labyrinthine layout is to break the wind and confuse pirates, and it’s
traditional to get lost as you wander around – though the waterfront is always
downhill, so it’s not hard to get oriented again.
It was Sunday today, so there were services
going on, priests singing to the people crammed into the tiny buildings, and
dressed-up locals standing around chatting afterwards. There were enough
tourists to make the place lively, the water was clear, the fishing boats were
brightly-painted, it was warm and there was even some sunshine, and at last I
felt that I was in the Greece I had expected.
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