Ask anyone how to get from A to B in Greece and the answer is almost always the same: hire a car. But after thirty years of travelling Greece by bus, ferry, and Shanks’s Pony, I’d argue it’s not always the only option — or even the best one. And I say this as someone who once wheel-spun a Suzuki Celerio into a rut on Lipsi while a man on a digger watched and smoked his cigarette.
Spetses challenged my expectations. What I assumed might be a polished and upmarket Greek island turned out to be far more balanced, with character, culture and a sense of authenticity that is easy to miss at first glance. Visiting in October, I extended my stay, explored the architecture of Spetses Town, navigated a few mixed dining experiences, and discovered an island shaped as much by history as by reinvention. This is my honest review of Spetses, and why it left a lasting impression.
Spetses has a way of revealing itself in layers. Beyond the harbour and its polished façade, there is a deeper story shaped by a wealthy benefactor, maritime power, revolution and, as it turns out, the occasional appearance of vintage bicycles and tweed. This post brings together two of the island’s museums and an annual event that I hadn’t quite expected to find here.
Walking north from Dapia reveals a slightly quieter, more layered side of Spetses. Away from the harbour and grand hotel façades, the island unfolds through coastal paths, historic mansions, accessible beaches and little detours inland. This walk along the north shore brings together architecture shaped by maritime wealth, landscapes softened by pine and cypress, and chapels — including a remarkable cave church — that offer insight into the rhythms and resilience of everyday island life.
A slow first walk along Spetses’ southern shore reveals far more than expected — from working boatyards and Armata history to sculpture, quiet beaches and shifting first impressions.
A slow weekend in Mytilene, shaped by local buses, walks through villages, thermal landscapes and moments of everyday island life that quietly draw you in.
On the far western edge of Lesvos, Sigri revealed itself slowly. Over four peaceful nights, wandering volcanic landscapes, exploring the Petrified Forest and settling into village life, Sigri became a place of stillness rather than spectacle.
After further reflection, I realised that Skala Eresou had given me the space to rest, recalibrate, and the time to figure out the direction of travel — literally — and in that sense, it was mission accomplished. It was now time to move on, and I decided to head north-west to Sigri, drawn by the quiet contrasts and small curiosities that make Lesvos such a rewarding island to explore.
A slow, reflective walk through Mytilini — its harbour, architecture, monuments and hidden corners — taken at a moment of transition before deciding what comes next on Lesvos.
A gentle two-day travelogue on Lesvos, taking in Plomari’s ouzo heritage, the mountain village of Agiasos and a memorable last night of music and dancing in Mytilini.
A sunrise-to-sunset journey carrying us from Imbros to Lesvos via Kabatepe, Çanakkale and Ayvalık, ending with sunset in Mytilene and dinner at Laïkó Kafeneion — a day of ferries, landscapes, mishaps and that unmistakable feeling of being Hellas-bound.
High above the northern coast of Gökçeada sits Eski Bademli, a village that truly earns its nickname as the balcony of the island. From its terrace-like lanes, the views stretch across the valley to Kaleköy and out towards the hazy outline of Samothrace. Wandering through the narrow backstreets — once the heart of the old Stenáda quarter — we found stone houses, a quiet square, and a sense of place shaped as much by memory as by landscape. It’s a village that reveals itself slowly: a glimpse of history here, a story shared over coffee there, all framed by that extraordinary Aegean panorama.