The island of Amorgos rises proudly up from the Aegean Sea at the eastern edge of the Cyclades.
It feels the way Greece should, authentic and beautiful, with whitewashed villages tucked into hills blanketed with aromatic herbs, almond and olive trees, and crisscrossed with trails and ruins dating before Biblical times.
The only way to get to Amorgos is by boat. There’s no airport here, save the helipad for medical emergencies from its most populated city of Chora.
Although you can fly into Naxos or Santorini and cut your ferry ride to less than two hours, we chose the longer, seven-hour ferry ride from Athens.
It felt like one long exhale. By the time we arrived at Amorgos, we were right on Amorgos time.
I think I found my happy place.
We arrived at the northwestern port of Katápola beside Chora in the afternoon, fueled by a €2.90 euro espresso, an enormous pastry, and a Greek coffee. I’m certain they were the best I’d ever had—but that could be because I sipped looking out over the Aegean.
Chora (technically the Greek word for “town”) is a quintessential Greek village, with bright bougainvillea draping over courtyards and a maze of stone lanes spiderwebbing from charming squares, dotted with tables groaning with baked bread, tasty fava, and goat cheese. Guitar-strumming locals sit at cozy taverns, sipping on homemade raki made from Amorgian grapes.
Chora’s Cycladic buildings spread out from its soaring 13th-century Venetian castle, under which is Kato Lakkos, an underground cistern that supplied water in medieval times. Thirteen whitewashed windmills perch along the outskirts of town. You can find a room in a local home here for as little as $40 a night, and you’ll be treated as one of the family.
A 20-minute walk from town lies one of Greece’s most impressive destinations, the Panagia Hozoviotissa monastery. Built in 1088, it rests precariously on a cliffside and was once inhabited by 100 monks. Only two live here today.
It is worth the climb 300 meters above the sea to see their five-meter-deep home. Plus, you’ll be rewarded for your efforts with a shot of psimeni raki, some loukoumi (local sweets), and perhaps a bit of a lecture on the demise of the human race.
The tiny beach of Agia Anna nearby offers a swim after your climb. Bring a mask and snorkel for the underwater caves.
Life on Amorgos is low stress, known even among the Greeks for its joyful, romantic, and raki-loving energy. Village streets are peaceful. Many residents don’t own a car, preferring instead to walk along the ancient paths that still connect its villages today. People stop and talk to each other—often for unplanned hours and about anything from Aristotle and poetry to the Greek stock market. Strangers are greeted as friends.
From Chora, we took a breathtaking drive across the island, swerving past goats roaming in the roads and leaning impossibly halfway up against mountainsides, to the island’s second port of Aegiali.
Ruins of ancient windmills rise up along the hills, with beehive boxes and olive, pomegranate, and cypress trees decorating the landscape.
You can walk there too. The road we traveled didn’t even reach as far as the length of the island until 1995. Amorgos is actually best known as a hiker’s paradise, and if you’ve heard of the island at all, it’ll be because of its trails linking town to town, north to south. People still quite literally walk from one end of the island to the other.
As you travel across Amorgos—by car, donkey, or foot—you’ll happen upon tiny chapels hidden here and there, facing the Aegean to protect sailors at sea, and whitewashed villages tucked into hillsides.
These villages were originally not painted at all and instead stayed camouflaged within the slopes to keep out of the sight of pirates. After a cholera outbreak in 1938—and once the threat of pirates had fallen away—the government encouraged whitewash as a disinfectant to slow the spread of the disease. An added bonus was that the whitewash served to brighten the steps and walkways; people could now see better at night. Electricity didn’t arrive to the island until 1982.
We passed a woman touching up the steps in the village of Langada, and at dusk we too appreciated the brightness from the whitewash. Whimsical flowers and butterflies, childlike, are painted along the steps.
In Langada, make time to stop in for a bite at Koubara’s rooftop terrace. Everything is homemade here; I recommend trying the geranium or lemonade spritz with ginger or the cafe’s very own koubara spritz, made with local herbs, for €8 euros. The €4.50 tzatziki or €7 favaballs and €2.50 Greek coffee are all delicious, and at dinner’s end, the raki and coconut balls can’t be beat.
If you’d like to make yourself at home here, you can find homes with views of the sea and mountains on the market for €250,000 or renovation projects under €100k.
Sincerely,
Siri Lise Doub
Contributor, Overseas Living Letter
