Symi Island, Greece

September 26-28, 2022

Nikos & Eya

We had such a lovely time on Symi Island at Nikos & Eya’s Studio Apartments.  Their reviews were outstanding, touting the couple’s kindness, and the reviews were spot on.  

And We’re Off

We had to be at the Kos Town port plenty early for our 7:20 am ferry to Symi Island. We walked through the deserted streets of Kos, catching a gorgeous sunrise along the way.  

The Ariadne (Again)

We were on Hellenic Seaways The Ariadne again, the same ship from our last ferry ordeal (see post: A Ferry Tale). 

As we entered the ship, I made a point to double-check with the ticket-taker, making sure we were on the correct ferry. He had already taken my ticket and seemed surprised that I was asking.  He had to stop everything and carefully look down at my ticket and actually read it. 

With a nod and some Greek he verified we were good. I guess the ticket takers don’t even look at your ticket, but we had learned our lesson, always check you’re on the right ship as you board.

The ride took about two hours and we were at the Symi port. 

Turkiye Views

The Dodecanese Greek Islands are very close to the Turkish border. Our ferry ride afforded us beautiful views of the Turkish coast in the early morning sunshine.

A Ride Up the Hill

Without hesitation, Nikos and Eya, our hoteliers, came to pick us up at the port. We spotted them immediately as we left the ship, waving their large NIKOS & EYA red and white sign about 20 feet from us as we disembarked. 

Another couple on our boat was also coming to the apartments.  When we all gathered, Nikos told us to follow Eya, who, as it turns out, doesn’t speak much English.

We walked in a clump along the gravel edge of road crowded with various cars and people toting their luggage. There wasn’t a parking lot, just a cacophony of cars, trucks, scooters, and vans, all trying to get out of the small port area tucked between a cliff and the sea. 

The Car

A small car, and I mean really small, appeared to be Eya’s destination.  The roads here, as on many of the Greek islands, are more like alleyways, so having the smallest car possible is a definite plus. 

As we approached the car, we and the other couple started assessing the situation.  Hmm…six adults, with luggage, for that tiny car (the size of a Smart car).  There was no way this was going to work.  

Eya opened the back hatch (if you can call it that). We shoved our two backpacks, along with the other couple’s roller bags, in the back.  It was a very tight squeeze.  

Thankfully, at that point, Nikos unexpectedly hopped on a scooter parked just in front of the car, and the man from our companion couple hopped right on the back with him. 

Two large adults were removed from the small car equation, so things were adding up.  Without the two men, we had just enough room for the four remaining adults to fit. 

The Drive

Eya drove the small car down the road, along the narrow one-way street towards the center of town.  Only it wasn’t a one-way street.  

We’d only made it a hundred feet when a car was stopped in front of the car in front of us.  The front-most car was on a blind corner, so we couldn’t see what the problem was up ahead. Eya rolled down her window to inquire with some people out on the street that appeared to be involved in trying to resolve the situation. 

Then the yelling started.  And the arm waving.

I think Greeks may be more passionate communicators than Americans, at least we’ll call it that.  Eya, who had only said a few words to us (as she didn’t really speak English), suddenly became a lioness. 

Until then, Eya had only uttered a few words to us in a very kindly tone. Nikos had done all the talking in his gregarious and welcoming manner.

Eya

Eya is small in stature and petite.  She couldn’t weigh more than 100 pounds. She looks like she’d break in a strong wind.  She’s probably in her early to mid-60’s, has shoulder length brown, wavy hair, probably dyed. She is demure and sweet. 

Her transformation from meek mouse to raging lioness was a bit startling, but entertaining for sure.

Cooperation 

After a fair amount of loud Greek exchanges, it was apparent that Eya needed to back up.  All the cars needed to back up.  The problem was, there was nowhere to go.  The very narrow street literally clung to the edge of the sea, with a high cliff to our left and a stark drop into the ocean to our right. 

Suddenly Eya flips around in her seat, throwing her arm onto the back of the passenger seat, eying her backward trajectory.  She was impossibly weaving and backing up, until we heard a loud crunch, at which point she immediately stopped and exclaimed, “Σκατά!!“.

I don’t actually know if that’s the word she used, but I looked it up, and “Σκατά” is a common curse word used in Greece, meaning Shit, so it’s a good bet that’s what she said.  I know that’s what I’d say if I backed up and heard a loud crunch.

Safety Measures

The crunch we heard was the car being stopped by a large metal bar, presumably there to keep people from falling into the sea (thank God). Apparently there was no need to hop out and assess the damages, as I assume these things happen often.  She had moved enough to resolve the situation, and a large truck squeezed slowly past the row of cars that had rearranged to accommodate it. 

Yeah, NOT a one-way street.

Tiny Symi

Kouloundri a small city on a small island, full of not one-way streets. The year-round population of Symi Island is about 2,500.

Kouloundri

Our home base of Kouloundri is built on a symmetrical “U” shape bay filled with bright turquoise blue, glistening water. The immediate area around the harbor is level and filled with restaurants, cafes, souvenir and clothing shops. The steep hillside surrounding the harbor is like a giant amphitheater filled with colorful homes. It’s quite picturesque.

The Harbor

The harbor consists of individual moorings lining the curve of the bay.  There’s a lovely walkway mirroring the curve, where we walked and gawked at the most ridiculously mammoth and ostentatious yachts I’ve ever seen.

I was trying hard to not let my eyes bug out and my mouth drop wide-open, and in my preoccupation to control myself, I guess I didn’t get any pictures of the mega-yachts (just some average yachts!).

Water-Taxi’s

The harbor also has room for a few water-taxi’s that are ready and willing to take your money for a round trip ride to a secluded beach. We were happily whisked to St. Marina beach around 9:30 am, where we were in heaven for a full day, for a mere 22 euros.

St. Marina Beach

Seriously, St. Marina beach was exquisite. It probably helped that it is getting late in the season, so the sun beds were about a third full, keeping things serene and tranquil, the only noise that of the tiny waves lapping at the shore.

The 10-Minute Walk

Our host, Nikos, was very chatty, in a good way. He had lots of suggestions for our stay, including his advice to visit St. Nicholas beach. There are signs all over town that St. Nicholas Beach is a “10-minute walk from Pedi Beach“, on the east side of the island.  

We walked down the steep hill from our apartment and took the local bus to Pedi Beach in Gialus harbor. I also took a quick picture of the bus schedule, to avoid any return issues (see post: Kos, Greece). There were no asterisk on the schedule, so it’s all good.

Arriving at Pedi Beach, we saw more signs with arrows, This way to St. Nicholas Beach, 10-minute walk.  

So off we went, following the sign and the gently uphill gravel path towards the next inlet and St. Nicholas Beach.

Postcard Perfect 

After our 10-minute walk, that lasted at least 30 minutes, we were at the peak of a high hill looking down onto an amazingly beautiful beach.  It looked like a dream beach, like a picture on a pamphlet beckoning you to just take that trip. 

Did I mention it was about 85 degrees with high humidity, and there was no shade on the path?  Did I mention that google maps gave the description of the walk as “mostly flat”?  

To that point, the climb had been gentle, somewhat paved, and easy to follow.  But as we rounded the summit, with our first glimpse of our final destination, we could see that the way down was anything but gentle, paved, or easy.

What laid before us consisted of giant stone stairs of all shapes and thicknesses, wedged into the hillside, with a very steep descent.  There was no turning back, not after seeing that view.  Down we went. 

WINS & LOSSES

Kalimera 

I always try to learn a few words in the native language of the country where we are staying. It’s good for the old brain, respectful to our hosts, and the locals seem to appreciate it. One word we heard continuously, every day, all day, in Greece was Kaliméra, which means Good Day. 

Unfortunately Kaliméra sounds very much like the seafood dish, Calamari. You see where I’m going with this.  It’s horrifying to realize you just wished Squid to a passerby (only happened once or twice).

Fish Food

A small fish decided to give me a nibble, at exactly the moment that I was tranquilly gazing out to sea, standing in the calm, clear as a pool, turquoise waters at St. Nicholas beach. I just so happened to be thinking (at that exact moment), “I wonder if there are sharks in these waters”. I kid you not. That fish had impeccable timing. 

A Winner

We got to hang out with the 8-time Turkish national champion Rally race car driver. He was one part of the couple that had been on our same ferry boat coming from Kos, and was staying in the room next to us at our hotel that had four rooms total. 

He had raced all over the United States and world, and had been selected from 300,000 Turkish driver applicants. Apparently being a national champion race car driver has its perks. He was probably not even 50 and retired, with a beautiful companion at his side.

He comes to the Greek islands often, usually sailing on his yacht that comfortably sleeps four (or was it six?).  Now he just plays the stock market. 

Yacht Problems

His yacht had a problem and was in the shop (you know how that is), so he was slumming it in our hotel this time.  

The Patio

Niko’s and Eya’s apartments faced out onto a large, shady patio. It was about half way up the hill that was the town, at the end of a dead end street. It was quiet and very relaxing. 

Nikos was always sitting out on the patio, sometimes with his laptop. He’s the kind of man you immediately feel comfortable with, he’s chatty, but not too chatty. He’s always open to guests joining him on the patio.

He told me how the hotel had been in Eya’s family for generations. He and Eya run the hotel now during the season (about 7-8 months a year), then go to his original home in Rhodes in the off-season.

Good Conversation 

One afternoon we just sat and chatted, as best we could, with Eya, Nikos, and a French woman who had been coming to their hotel annually for many, many years. At this point she was like an old friend of the family.

The French woman sat and knitted, looking up occasionally to contribute to the conversation. 

Eya disappeared into the house, then popped back out onto the patio holding a tray with two coffees, two glasses of water, and two small saucer-sized dishes with what looked like jam, for Steve and I.  

I took a tentative, tiny nibble of whatever the small dish held. It was sticky and very sweet. It was delicious. We asked what it was, but I’m not sure why we bother. It’s almost impossible to repeat, let alone remember, the Greek name for things.

It was obviously a treat, with grapes (that looked like raisins) in a thick honey-like paste. It was perfect with the dense and strong Greek coffee. 

Bravo!!!

The best thing about Nikos was his “Bravo, Bravo!”, full of boldness and bravado. It got louder and more enthusiastic every time he said it, and was said with a huge smile every time.

This was his go-to response to almost everything we said. We really could do no wrong.  It’s kind of a nice feeling to hear a jubilant Bravo! ten times a day.

Bravo!

Next Up: Rhodes Island, Greece