With only a few days on each island, we were fully aware that there would be compromises on our trip. So much to do and so little time- this is usually the biggest dilemma encountered on a holiday. With this in mind we decided that ancient ruins would have to give when it came to exploring Mykonos, Milos and Santorini. As brutal and culturally inept as that sounds, the facts of the matter were that after a frazzling few months at work, days spent horizontal turning a nutty shade of brown were a priority over anything mildly academic or interesting. What can I say…I am a sun-worshipper through and through. Maybe if that day comes when I am as withered and wrinkly as a raisin that I no longer care about blissful sunbathing and the satisfaction of watching tan-lines develop I will easily swap a day on the beach for a day of ambling round archeological digs, but currently this isn’t a decision that I can take so lightly and with much ease at all. I’ll keep you posted if this day ever comes. But anyway, what has this do with Milos? Being so small and with no stand-out attractions, these dilemmas rarely occurred, or at least not as frequently as they did in Mykonos and Santorini. The beauty of the situation was that we could beach for most of the day, then hop on the scooter and cram in some sights in the late afternoon on our way back to Pollonia for dinner at Ammos. It was the best of both worlds. Two of the places I had on my list for seeing (only if a sufficient number of beaches had been explored first of course!) were Klima and Plaka. Luckily, they both got paid a visit.
Looking a Klima is like looking at a paintbox – rows of rectangular blocks of pigment, each intense and undiluted, each strikingly different. You could say, it’s the Notting Hill (or Balamory?) of Milos. Most of the houses are still devoted to tradition as they house fishing boats with fishermen and their families sometimes living above. One or two others have now set up shop and offer wooden pieces, most of which are as colourful as the doors and balconies. Empty and with the sparkliest water, Klima was one of my favourite places.
Unfortunately for Plaka its visit came swiftly after my trip to Klima. Think of it like speed-dating a nice perfectly normal guy after a dreamy few minutes with David Beckham – I’m not saying that Plaka had anything wrong with it, and in fact, it was pretty, picturesque and charming, but it lacked the oomph that Klima was able to deliver without even so much as trying. Stopping just for a quick drink, it was a nice setting. Small shops sold jewellery and hand-crafted ceramics, whilst the paintwork, foliage and lanterns gave it a postcard-like quality, but unfortunately not a huge amount of personality.
If you missed out on the other things to do in Milos then look no further. Unmissable beaches that will leave you dreaming of sand between your toes even a month after returning home can be found by reading ‘Off the Beaten Track’ and my ‘Hidden Treasures of the Cyclades‘ blog posts.