Greetings from windy Mykonos! It is my first visit to the island, but I clearly wasn’t the only Indian in town. Between birthdays and anniversary celebrations, it seemed like desis had taken over this pleasure paradise. Hordes of Mumbaikers and Delhiites were vacationing, with a generous dosh of London Indians thrown in. After a lull a few years ago, last year tourism ballooned here again. Greece recorded a whopping 33 million tourists in 2018, generating €16 billion in revenue, and of that, Mykonos got over 1.3 million people, a 24.8 increase! It vies with Ibiza for the international party crowd.
We were visiting with a group of friends; our original trip was postponed by a month, though July is the right month to visit. Flying into Athens, we first did a three-hour detour to Porto Heli, to visit some old friends, Alex Poulias and his wife Karla, a Greek-Gautemalan couple. We had not seen them in at least five years, but the good news is that everyone looks the same.
Porto Heli is a seaside resort, once a quiet fishing village, but now a favoured getaway of the Athenian A-list. Super private, with its picturesque coves and clear emerald green water, it’s the Peloponnesian Riviera. Our friends took us to the nearby island of Spetses, and, along the way, we spotted some monster yachts, as well as a private island owned by Stavros Niarchos, of the well-known Greek shipping family.
In Spetses, the ‘Island of Perfumes’, where taxis are horse-drawn carriages, we had an aperitif at the glamorously old-school Poseidonion Grand Hotel, built in 1914, on the main promenade overlooking the water. After a quick jaunt back into Porto Heli to freshen up, we took a water taxi from Alex’s house back to Spetses for a big, fat Greek dinner with his school friends. There I bumped into Spryos Poulios, whom I hadn’t seen since the mid-1990s in New York. Back then, while the rest of us were living in hovels, Spryos had a massive loft on Lafayette Street and Astor Place, where he threw the most fun parties. The great and the good of Manhattan’s 20-somethings (most bankers and consultants) would gather in his cavernous kitchen-cum-living room to let off steam. It was great to see him after more than two decades. It turns out he went to high school with Alex, as did our Greek friend Elly who now lives in Mumbai. It seemed like Athenians are as tightly-knit as us Mumbaikers.
Now we are in the ‘Islands of the Winds’, as Mykonos is known. Our friend, Ms Giddy Goat had booked us into all the hotspot beach clubs — Principorte, Nammos, Scorpios — as well as some beautiful lunch and dinner spots. When Ms Full of Beans saw the itinerary, she did a virtual faint on our WhatsApp group chat. “What are we, 20 year olds?” she said in ALLCAPS. She had a point, but there’s something magical about the island, which makes even the old and weary, young and energetic. Mr Handsome Herbalist, who has a way of befriending everyone he meets, was due to come back here in two weeks for his cousin’s 40th birthday. I told him that by the end of our trip he would be the Mogul of Mykonos. In three days, we’ve already managed to pack so much in. One highlight was a five-hour leisurely lunch at Spilia on Agia Anna beach and seeing the sunset at a waterfront bar called Caprice, then dinner al fresco at Interni. By midnight, when I was fading, people were coming in. That’s Mykonos for you. Shops are open till 2 am, no one sits down to lunch till 4 or 5 pm, and dinner doesn’t begin till midnight. No wonder you need a vacation from your vacation.
This fortnightly column tracks the indulgent pursuits of the one-percenters.
