From Meganisi to Nidri: Waterfalls, Goats and Hunting for Boat Trips

Nidri was never an intentional destination. It was the means to one. There is a difference, and it matters when you are standing on a harbour front being offered boat trips by five separate operators before you have even found your hotel.

The ferry crossing from Meganisi takes about thirty minutes. Long enough to gaze at Skorpios, the private island Aristotle Onassis bought in the 1960s and which has remained resolutely off limits ever since. With the Epirus mountains stacked behind the Lefkada landscape, the approach into Nidri harbour was quite spectacular.

Arriving in Nidri itself was a bit of a culture shock. Chaotically, cheerfully, relentlessly busy. The main drag is a well-drilled operation of boat-trip stands, taverna owners and souvenir shops, all of them at it simultaneously. Peter and I ran the gauntlet with luggage, which did nothing to reduce the enthusiasm of anyone trying to sell us something. The Smile Inn, when we finally reached it, turned out to be a good call. Set just off the main street near the church and the bus stop, it was surprisingly quiet, friendly and slightly at odds with everything surrounding it.

Four nights. Not because we particularly wanted four nights in Nidri, but because it is the best base in Lefkada for reaching a couple of small islands I had my eye on. And my friend Ioannis had suggested spending time in Preveza too, so that became the plan.

We spent the first day or so trying to find a boat trip that wasn’t all about beaches, bikinis and booze. That proved harder than expected. It’s not that there is a shortage of boat trips in Nidri. We just couldn’t find one that would take us to one of the small islands that we could actually set foot on. It was also still early in the season, which narrowed things further. We continued our mission to find something whilst exploring other parts of the island.

During our stay, the weather was a bit hit and miss, which is not unusual for the Ionians at this time of year, and probably a disappointment to anyone who had come specifically for the sun. Nidri’s beaches are mainly narrow strips of sand, partially organised with sunbeds and bits that weren’t. It was busier than I had expected for mid-May. When the sun did make an appearance, we headed to Ammos Beach Bar for an afternoon, which was handy for snacks and drinks without having to lift a finger. Well – when in Rome! I must say that this is my type of view. The sense of being enclosed by surrounding islands and gentle waves lapping on the shore was perfection.

Nidri is easy enough to explore on foot. Fairly flat, established roads, though traffic at times made the walking less pleasant than it should have been. Our first foray took us north along the coast towards Panoraia Beach, noting a couple of places that looked worth returning to for dinner. The beaches here consisted of even narrower strips of sand backed by hotels and tavernas. There wasn’t really anything here that invited us to linger so we headed inland towards one of Nidri’s more compelling attractions: the Dimosari Waterfall also known as the Nidri waterfall.

A Walk to the Nidri Waterfall

The walk there was the best part of the day. Within minutes of leaving the main road, the crowds and the traffic disappeared, and everything became noticeably more rural. Spring flowers were out in force, brought to life by the previous night’s heavy downpour. We soon discovered that this was goat territory. One small herd ducked behind trees and into olive groves the moment they sensed our presence. Others held their ground firmly, making clear who was in charge.

I couldn’t help but laugh at a sign along the roadside that offered passers-by the chance of fifteen minutes of YouTube fame. Not the kind of fame I aspire to personally.

The road followed a dry, meandering riverbed below, littered with rocks washed down from the Skaros Mountains above. An old house stood abandoned alongside it, subject to years of erosion by the seasonal water flow, its roof now replaced by a carpet of dark green ivy tumbling down over the stone facade. Further along, more goats had taken up residence in yet another abandoned building. They looked quite at home.

As we approached the parking area for the Nidir Waterfall, a helpful sign warned of possible rockfall – an engraved marble slab set into a huge piece of rockfall. Not erected by the municipality, as it turned out, but put up and maintained by the Karaboikis brothers since 1975. There is a story there, though I don’t know it.

Café Platanos marks the start of the climb. The path begins gently, passing a couple of shallow pools and small cascades. Well-paved, manageable, though the evidence of a serious boulder fall as we entered the gorge was a reminder that the Karaboikis brothers probably had a point.

The path became more rocky but stayed navigable. Then a clearing opened up, with a pool of turquoise water fed by a small fall, surrounded by fern-covered cliffs and thin trees growing from the rock face with just enough to sustain them. It felt just like a fairy glen, and it was hard to believe that it existed just four kilometres from the centre of Nidri.

This, though, wasn’t the main event. The main waterfall sat at the top of a set of stone steps that looked far too vertigo-inducing for my liking. Peter went ahead while I stayed to explore the rock pools and enjoy the quiet. Sometimes the supporting act is enough.