Magical Milos
We were pretty sure we were the only ones awake in Plaka this morning (despite the echoing melody of the church bells ringing at the odd time of 7:23am) when we wandered down to our favourite little cafe, Kikkino. We greeted our friend Spiro, who was there early on account of his 9-month-old-baby-alarm clock and was ready to tantalise our tastebuds with his good home cooking. He introduced Rossco to his specialty coffee yesterday - a freddo espresso on ice - which is now his favourite (& sadly doesn’t contain any melted chocolate frogs). Spiro lives six months of the year in Sardinia and the other six in Milos, where he works his fingers to the bone, pulling 16 hour days in the cafe over summer so he can go home and recover during winter. This seems to be what most people do here. In winter there are only 100 people living in Plaka. No wonder it’s the place where everybody knows your name.
After a feast featuring Spiro’s uncle’s eggs, we headed down to the wharf so we could board our Milos Day Cruise catamaran, set to take us on a full day of sea adventures around this glorious island. Much of the island is inaccessible by car and apparently there was lots of beauty to behold from a vantage point out to sea. Our Captain, Nikolas, was a lovely man and a jack-of-all-trades, acting as tour guide, chef, chief pot washer and toilet cleaner, not to mention driver of the boat. His offsider, the young George, with his man bun and Instagram good looks, dealt with the anchor, collected plates and otherwise seemed to spend an awful lot of time scrolling on his mobile phone. If he’d been any more laid back he’d have been asleep.
There were about 20 passengers on the cat with us and getting to spend the day with this eclectic bunch provided us with loads of entertainment. It was a mix of both French and American couples, with a baby and a young girl thrown in, a British couple and us. Tamara, if not already in the cast of Housewives of Kansas, would be a worthy candidate. She and husband Ky were holidaying without their kids for the first time. We loved meeting Lottie & Ben, a fun young couple from London, newlyweds Johan and his wife Rosie, a beauty from Brazil (who incidentally had no need for life jacket, her own personal flotation devices already firmly attached to her chest). There was also the gorgeous French, blonde and surf-kissed couple - their dedication to getting the perfect Instagram shot even stretching to include multiple bikini changes with various colour coordinated props and multiple takes of a high dive from the bow, just to get it right. Abbas, from Pakistan, was now living in LA, retired after having dedicated his entire life to nothing but work; suddenly discovering there was a lot more to live for than a pay-packet. His suave, cigar-smoking nephew was his travel companion and this trip would just be the tip of the iceberg. Five minutes in, Abbas knew every passenger on our cruise by name and confirmed, after learning where each of us lived, “oh that place is on my list”. Gathering by the length of his list, he has a busy few years ahead.
A little way into the cruise, nature called and I made my way down to the “head” (that’s maritime lingo for where you go to do your business). Obviously made for Greek giants, the said toilet was so high off the ground, I literally had to climb up onto it, my legs dangling in mid-air as I sat and did my business. The toilet paper was also up near the roof, making it an acrobatic feat to reach it. After the mandatory wiping-then-binning routine, I was alarmed to find that after numerous attempts of pushing the little black button that was supposed to activate the flush, nothing was happening. There was only one thing to do. Reluctantly, I had to go and get the captain. Before I could offer a warning, much to my embarrassment, he’d already peeped under the lid and reeled back in horror, giving me a look that said: If this thing can’t be fixed we may all have to abandon ship. A bit of fiddling with the buttons and a few screwdriver-turns later, came a magical whoosh. What a relief!
Circumnavigating Milos, to the mellow 80s soft rock soundtrack, was a sensational way to spend the day; the scenery and rock formations just phenomenal! With so many rocks of different kinds and colours, emerging from the sea and standing tall along the winding coastline, this place would be a geologist’s dream. The shore was littered with spiky islets, roomy caves, peepholes through volcanic rock headlands and vast sculptured archways to explore. If it hadn’t have been for that pesky mast, I’m sure we’d have fitted into a few more caves. A huge rock that resembled a massive statue of a rabbit got all our cameras clicking, as did the Firligos Rocks and incredible Kleftiko, it’s bay of rocky vertical arches rising dramatically from the clearest and most pristine water we had ever seen. Apparently it had also been a popular hiding place for pirate’s treasure.
The water was take-your-breath away cold. One French man declaring: “the temperature is a shock!” as he plunged into the liquid blue. It looked so enticing though so while I opted to remain dry, Ross risked hyperthermia and swam the cool depths, claiming the experience was well-worth the numbness.
My foot began to twitch and PTSD kick in as we sailed past the volcanic beach, Paliochori, from yesterday. Just along from there, Captain Nik took us to a secret spot where thermal springs, emanating from the volcanic activity inside the island, heat the water and offer a spa-like experience. Ross sampled the springs - a distinct smell of sulphur on the breeze - and said the sand underfoot was still very hot though the cooling water made it bearable to stand.
My fears of being showered with lava were allayed when Nik assured me it had been a long time between drinks as far as lava showers were concerned - the last volcanic eruption a distant 5000 years ago. He told us there was a smoking cave located in another secret spot - nature’s own sauna - with therapeutic properties said to outdo the fanciest spa retreats in town.
A quick bus from our drop off point took us back to our home just in time to witness one last beautiful Milos sunset as it cast its glow over the valley below us. We dined down the hill in Tripiti, at a restaurant called OKTA, recommended by our British boat buddies, where I passed on ordering the house special of sea urchins to experience THE best pasta of my life.
