Cycladic Garland

by Terje Raa

Greek ferries become faster the whole time - my short trip from Piraeus to Syros hardly leaves me time to study the map. One circle of islands attracts my attention, though: the Cyclades; they nearly form a garland on the water. That's what I will do - tie myself a garland of four islands: Syros, Paros, Naxos and Mykonos.

Wind-swept, dry and largely barren, the Cyclades deliver the base colors of my garland immediately - golden brown with grey shades of rocks and green touches of vineyards, olive groves and fig trees. Decorative flowers will be made up of my favorite spots. I start royally in the north-western corner, with the Queen of the Cyclades - Ermoupolis - the largest town on Syros and the capital of all the Cyclades.

The striking Neoclassical appearance of Ermoupolis takes visitors by surprise, as does the Neorion Shipyard, which is so dominating that all the houses seem to withdraw from it, in the direction of two characteristic hilltops, situated side by side like twins. Once the leading port of Greece - famous for its buildings, wealth and cultural life - Ermoupolis of today is a somewhat fading acquaintance. Well-kept mansions in pastel shades alternate with neighbors in decay, still acting as waves of elegance.

Strategically situated on the seaway between east and west, Syros has not only been exposed to the waves of the Aegean, but also to waves of pirates, Venetians, Turks and - in the 1821 War of Independence - waves of refugees. Those refugees were active people, who brought along a wave of enterprise and creativity, which unfolded in the construction of Ermoupolis, soon radiating what should become its special monument: the Neoclassical buildings and city layouyt, a suitable frame for a truly cosmopolitan city. A recessive transit trade and a growing Piraeus led to emigration and decline.

The Southern Corners

At a catamaran’s pace, I move to the south-western corner of my garland, to Paros. An old white windmill, adorning the traffic circle of the port, is every tourist’s first impression of Paros and its capital Parikia, the busiest port in the Cyclades. A quick glance behind the low wall encircling the mill, reveals flagstones where the grouting is painted white - by me interpreted as snakeskin.

Tracks of the snake are found all over town, and by following them, you have a perfect guide to show you around. My own first sight is Agios Nikolaos, a tiny white church with a freshly painted blue dome. Less style has the bus station; a little shack surrounded by green busses, right on the sea. This is the only impression of Parikia for all those who continue to Naoussa, a holiday and fishing town up north, more compact than Parikia, whereas the friendly atmosphere - very characteristic of Paros - is the same. Even the countryside exudes friendliness with its long soft hills.

The streets of the old town are laid out to match a snake’s movements. It winds happily through whitewashed picturesqueness, partly spoiled by numerous small shops using the street and walls to display their merchandise. The snake takes me to the real old town, unspoiled by tourist shops and with flourishing pot plants as the only decoration. The houses may not be in perfect repair, but they radiate a peaceful harmony. On one terrace, this harmony is exemplified by the man of the house, groaning with delight as his wife vigorously massages his feet.

The jump to Naxos, though geographically short, presents me with an entirely different countryside. Thanks to deep fertile valleys, the garland’s south-eastern corner is surprisingly green, suitable for an island that last year experienced an 800-year anniversary, in that a Venetian diplomat, Marco Sanudo, captured Naxos in 1207 along with other Cycladic islands. He turned them into a Duchy, a Venetian rule that was to last for over three centuries.

If Sanudo had come back today, he would surely walk around Naxos Town and its castle to explore the physical remains and the attitude of the Naxiotes toward the Venetian heritage. I imagine him doing that by letting my own eyes imitate his. Naxos Town is a delight to any eye, it's like a picture book, with an harmoniously curved harbor on the front cover and a gigantic marble portal, Portara, on the back. The ascent to the Castle takes the visitor step by step through whitewashed narrowness, under balconies weighed down with age, they nearly bump into you.

The Castle housed some 400 people of Venetian origin, many descendents live here still, one of them is Nikolaos. Just inside the arch of the Trani Porta entrance, he welcomes you to his family’s old home, Domus Della Rocca-Barozzi, a Venetian Museum nowadays. The rooms, small or large, exude a former grandeur under lofty ceilings, the windows offer a splendid view of the harbor and the Portara portal. Family members had widely different interests: from embroidery and literature to piano and photography. Classical music fills the rooms, an appetizer for the concerts that Nikolaos arranges in his tiny garden.

Cubic Whiteness

Mykonos is going to be the bow on my garland, fluttering in the wind in the north-eastern corner. Here, I spend the afternoon at the water’s edge in Kavos, the least windy cafe in town, whereas on the opposite side of the bay - on the men's promenade - the wind keeps tearing at the sunblinds of the other cafes. From my warm shelter, I enjoy the harmony of white cube houses shining in the sun.

In order not to be suddenly blinded by the town's beauty, I approach Mykonos slowly and carefully in the evening - well supplied with pocket money, for beauty costs. Luckily, some refuse to participate in the price race, like the popular Bakoja, an old cafe in the harbor. I forget about high prices as soon as the wind calms down; never is Mykonos more seductive than when calm. Sighing with relief while taking our windbreakers off, we sit down on the nearest cafe chair to order a beer, not caring about bedtime.

My garland is a full circle now, complete with a Neoclassical city, one special Greek snake, vivid Venetian history and cubic whiteness. It clearly illustrates how different these islands are, yet complementary and geographically close. In dreary winter nights, the garland shall be a comfort and tickle my urge to travel by bringing back memories of a favorite combination - Syros, Paros, Naxos and Mykonos.

Also by Terje Raa:

Duke of Naxos

Next Stop Paros