A Slow Day on Oinousses: Museum Visit, Hill Walks & Quiet Island Life

My second day on Oinousses was very chilled. I had nowhere particular to be and had nobody telling me where I should go. I have enough time here to combine a bit of relaxation with some more strenuous exploring. Yesterday I spent the morning writing up my previous post. I had so much to say about my first impressions of this island and needed to get it down before the thoughts evaporated from my mind. What better place than my lovely terrace with that amazing view over the islets and beyond to Chios.

When travelling, we all have different ways to relax. Some people like to read, whilst others can sit in a bar having a drink. Many people can spend hours lying on the beach. I’m not averse to any of these, but I also like to spill out my thoughts in a post. I wouldn’t call it relaxing as such, but it does fulfil a creative urge in me. It keeps me out of trouble, as my mother would say!

I did venture out a couple of times. Firstly, I went to the supermarket to buy washing powder so that I could wash some clothes. I also took a stroll around the village, admiring the old mansion houses (of which there are many). There isn’t any real centre to speak of. Everything just seems to radiate out from the Church of St Nicholas, which is in touching distance (almost) of my apartment. It is a good marker in which to get your bearings, as it is easy to get disorientated. If you love derelict buildings and old doors and windows as much as I do, then this is your island!

Oinousses is steep. To get anywhere, you will need to climb up or down. Today, though, I tried to keep on the upper level parallel with the church and spread myself widthways. In doing so, I discovered another eatery, which Google reviews told me was the best place to eat on the island. Well, there are only three tavernas that I can see so far, so competition isn’t tight.

Trattoria Rodostamo is located on the other side of the church from Oinousses Apartments. Just follow the path in front of the church and you’ll likely stumble across it as I did. It is quite empty – just two men eating in the courtyard. I was greeted by a young lady who showed me to a table. She told me that the menu was only in Greek, but basically it was pasta and pizza. I’m not averse to the change, though I immediately thought of the ribbing I gave to my granddaughter during our trip in July, who ate Spaghetti Bolognese 70% of the time.

I ordered Dakos to follow, spaghetti Bolognese. As the lady brought the food to the table, she told me to watch for the cats. The cat bandits were everywhere, and one was perched on a ledge behind me, waiting for his moment.

The food was great and the portions were very generous. I didn’t manage to eat all of the Dakos, but the lady offered to put it into a takeaway container for me, which was perfect – that’s tomorrow’s lunch.

Back at the apartment, I watched the dusk fall over Chios from the terrace. Bats swooped and darted across the skyline and then returned to crawl under the terracotta tiles of the house next door. I retired to my mezzanine bed where I slept very well. Yes, the bed passed the geriatric bone test!

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Today I pay a visit to the Maritime Museum down by the port. It opened at 10 am, and I was there shortly after. I was greeted by a lady who was cleaning a brass frame outside. Even the museum was kept shipshape and orderly. The entrance fee is 1.5€, which was ridiculously cheap. However, as the museum was funded by one of the wealthy ship-owning families, it is doubtful that it needs ticket revenue to keep it afloat. (No pun intended!)

The two rooms that house the artefacts were located on the first floor at the top of a sweeping marble staircase. I was the only person here, so I was able to take my time looking at the wonderful maritime pieces. The first thing that I noticed was several references to shipbuilders in Newcastle and Glasgow – a reminder of our own shipbuilding heritage.

The museum was really well laid out with examples of nautical equipment as well as the beautiful ship portraits adorning the walls. There was an incredible collection of around 30 model ships housed in glass cases – apparently gifted by one of the local benefactors from the Lemos family. The most intricate model ships are those made by French prisoners of war incarcerated in England during the Napoleonic War.

I read that the first models to be made by the POWs were constructed from fish and chicken bones from the prison kitchen. As their skill and expertise began to get recognition, they were provided with materials in which to continue creating these works of art. The detail and carving on them are exquisite.

Do visit if you chance upon Oinousses.

My next mission of the day was to walk east – or at least I think that it was east. On my previous walk, I’d spotted a road that snaked its way up between rolling hills. I didn’t know where it led to, but I was curious enough to go and find out. I began by heading along the road to the end of the harbour. This brought me up past a derelict mansion house on the left and a small beach on the right. Just beyond was a windmill that appeared to have been operating as a cafe – though not at the moment.

The road continued up and eventually led me to the derelict mansion house with a ballustraded terrace that I’d spotted the day before. Instead of continuing along the road to the left, I followed it down to the road above Agios Ioanos and the water treatment plant. I may take a closer look at this on my way back.

As the road began to climb, I passed smallholdings with goats and a few chickens—the only clear signs of life so far. I couldn’t help but feel a little daunted as the road stretched out before me in one direction – and that was up. I gauged it as I walked, determined to reach the pinnacle of this road. I was conscious of my age (days away from 64) and that I was unfit and alone. Should I go into cardiac arrest, then it could be some time before I’m spotted on this empty road! Yes, these are the things that have played on my mind of late. That little devil sitting on my shoulder, plaguing my mind with doubt.

I needn’t have worried. The climb was gentle, and rest stops along the way were an opportunity to stop and take in the spectacular views. The sky was bright blue with big white cumulus clouds drifting slowly across it. It was warm but with the faintest hint of an autumn chill. The light at this time of year is different—a crisp, azure clarity that seems to echo the cooling temperature. Perfect for walking. I watched the clouds cast animated shadows across one hillside while revealing bright colours on another as it shifted.

The thing that really spurred me on was the hope that when I reached the top of the hill, I’d catch sight of the rest of the archipelago of islands. I had no idea if this was possible, but the thought drove me on. The byproduct of this was a really enjoyable walk where Oinousses showed that its interior was just as stunning as its outward-looking view.

Oinousses is a rocky island. There was evidence of quarrying on a small scale, and I could see huge boulders of marble close to the road. However, the island is far from barren. Another small holding that I passed along the way had neat rows of grape vines, an indication of the island’s own small wine industry. Much of the landscape is covered in low-growing scrub, thyme and oregano punctuated by dark green, pencil-like Italian Cyprus trees. The heat of the sun drew out the scent of the roadside herbs, making the walk fragrant as well as visually stunning.

By the roadside stood an old fig tree, mostly barren now except for a few bedraggled leaves. Bent and twisted by the wind, it had survived whatever nature had thrown at it. A bit of a kindred spirit I thought!

Every so often, I stopped for a 360-degree view. On a ridge to the left, I spotted a small church gleaming in the midday sun. It didn’t appear on Google Maps, which was very frustrating. (Later, I learned from fisherman Gregos that this church was Agia Marina.)

Google Maps now suggested I was almost in the centre of the island. Maybe the islets wouldn’t be visible after all – it was very hard to tell. I gave it one final push to reach the top. At first, I could see the tops of the Turkish mountains in the distance and as I continued on, like an oasis appearing out of a mirage, I could see the archipelago stretched out below me! Oinousses’s little sisters! I audibly gasped.

I don’t know how long I’d stood there, but I knew that I’d found it difficult to tear myself away. I was in no rush.

Eventually, I turned to make my way back, but after a minute or so, I turned back to take in the view again. It had really affected me and left me feeling exhilarated. If I could have bottled that moment, I would have.

I did manage to tear myself away and took the slow walk back down towards the village. At the small beach of Agios Ioannis, I went to look at its namesake, the church. The beach was more functional than pretty. The sand was that volcanic grey and covered in seaweed. Although the water was clear, I wasn’t tempted to go for a dip. At the back of the beach was a man slapping his octopus on the rocks (ooh err missus!) As I passed him on the way to the church, he stopped his rhythmic slapping to let me pass with a friendly “Yassou”.

There wasn’t much to keep me here, to be honest, so I trudged up the hill and back to the apartment.

Later that evening, I decided to have a rare ‘at-home’ meal. No, of course I didn’t cook for myself despite there being a fully functioning kitchen in the apartment. Instead, I ordered a prosciutto and rocket pizza from Trattoria Rodostamo and bought a bottle of retsina from the supermarket. From the comfort of my terrace, I watched the dusk descend upon the island.

It was ghostly quiet up here in the village, but down below at the port, it sounded like there was another party. The music from the sound system was eventually replaced by singing and clapping from the crowd. I imagined that there was dancing too, and it all sounded gloriously raucous! I listened to the revelry, drank my wine and tapped out a few more words on the laptop.