Whenever I travel, I tell people I'm going for culture, nature, food or some combination thereof. They believe me, and there's no reason why they shouldn't. I also tell everyone--again, truthfully--that at the end of a day, I'm usually ready to sleep. So, when it comes to accommodations, I care only that they're clean and quiet.
But it sure is nice to wake up and sashay onto a balcony offering views like these:
and to take a dip before going to sleep:
or to have a choice of whether to sleep on the upper or lower level:
I had not made arrangements for my accommodations before coming to Milos, knowing full well that it's the high season. But high season on this island isn't quite the same as high season on Santorini. So, I figured that I'd find something, somewhere.
There are a number of hotels, modern and cozy, around the waterfront of Adamas, the island's port, and within a few blocks. After a bit of walking, I saw a rustic-looking sign for Thalassitra Village hotel, which stands at the end of a path and contains spacious rooms as well as apartments.
The owner, Irini, is practically a force of nature. She's lived on the island all of her life, has seen other places and wants to live nowhere else. (I can't blame her.) The place was full, she said, except for one apartment for one night. She understood that, traveling alone, it was far more than I ever would need. I agreed to let her show it anyway.
I have to admit, I was thinking, "Just this once." Perhaps she sensed it. She told me the price, knowing full well that I would never spend that much. But, since it was available for that one night, Thursday, and a couple on their honeymoon was coming in for a longer stay, she was willing to give for half of the normal price. And, if there was a vacancy for the following night, for a standard room--which she found later in the evening--she'd give me a discount on that, too.
Up to that point, I really hadn't spent much, so I thought, "Why not?"
What would I tell my younger self who stayed in hostels for a few dollars a night, or camped? I still haven't answered that. Maybe I won't. Maybe I don't need to.
Really, it--and the room in which I stayed the following night--felt more like spas than any hotel, hostel, pension in which I've stayed, let alone anyplace in which I've camped or slept on couches. Why, there were even those white robes found in all of those pricey spas!
Now I'm going to tell you something that would truly appall the 21-year-old guy named Nick I once was. (Actually, he wouldn't have been as appalled as he would have claimed to be!): I felt no guilt. So, the way I spent the day--after seeing that view from the balcony--could have been a "penance," but it didn't feel that way.
I rented a bike: another Ideal, which seems to be the "national" brand of this country. This one, though, wasn't nearly as well-maintained as the one I rented from Athens by Bike. In fact, after a bit of riding, I had to return and ask the mechanic to fix the front brake.
Still, I managed to ride it up the road to Plaka and Tripli, with five turns that looked like this:
Then, when I got to Plaka, a charming hilltop village full of those blue and white houses you see all over these islands, I came to this:
Of course, for a second, I saw "Castro." I mean, I was riding on a steep hill by the sea and I've seen, well, at least a few gay people. Of course, those are about the only comparisons one can make between Plaka and San Francisco.
"Kastro" means "castle". After a while, the path gave way to uneven stone stairs and a rocky path. I parked the bike and walked the rest of the way up.
The castle houses an Orthodox church. It seems to be open only for services, so I don't know whether there are artistic treasures inside, or even these views:
The ride and hike were just the start of my Friday in Milos. I'll tell you more in my next post.
(By the way: This post is #3000. Thanks for reading!)
But it sure is nice to wake up and sashay onto a balcony offering views like these:
and to take a dip before going to sleep:
or to have a choice of whether to sleep on the upper or lower level:
I had not made arrangements for my accommodations before coming to Milos, knowing full well that it's the high season. But high season on this island isn't quite the same as high season on Santorini. So, I figured that I'd find something, somewhere.
There are a number of hotels, modern and cozy, around the waterfront of Adamas, the island's port, and within a few blocks. After a bit of walking, I saw a rustic-looking sign for Thalassitra Village hotel, which stands at the end of a path and contains spacious rooms as well as apartments.
The owner, Irini, is practically a force of nature. She's lived on the island all of her life, has seen other places and wants to live nowhere else. (I can't blame her.) The place was full, she said, except for one apartment for one night. She understood that, traveling alone, it was far more than I ever would need. I agreed to let her show it anyway.
I have to admit, I was thinking, "Just this once." Perhaps she sensed it. She told me the price, knowing full well that I would never spend that much. But, since it was available for that one night, Thursday, and a couple on their honeymoon was coming in for a longer stay, she was willing to give for half of the normal price. And, if there was a vacancy for the following night, for a standard room--which she found later in the evening--she'd give me a discount on that, too.
Up to that point, I really hadn't spent much, so I thought, "Why not?"
What would I tell my younger self who stayed in hostels for a few dollars a night, or camped? I still haven't answered that. Maybe I won't. Maybe I don't need to.
Really, it--and the room in which I stayed the following night--felt more like spas than any hotel, hostel, pension in which I've stayed, let alone anyplace in which I've camped or slept on couches. Why, there were even those white robes found in all of those pricey spas!
Now I'm going to tell you something that would truly appall the 21-year-old guy named Nick I once was. (Actually, he wouldn't have been as appalled as he would have claimed to be!): I felt no guilt. So, the way I spent the day--after seeing that view from the balcony--could have been a "penance," but it didn't feel that way.
I rented a bike: another Ideal, which seems to be the "national" brand of this country. This one, though, wasn't nearly as well-maintained as the one I rented from Athens by Bike. In fact, after a bit of riding, I had to return and ask the mechanic to fix the front brake.
Still, I managed to ride it up the road to Plaka and Tripli, with five turns that looked like this:
Then, when I got to Plaka, a charming hilltop village full of those blue and white houses you see all over these islands, I came to this:
Of course, for a second, I saw "Castro." I mean, I was riding on a steep hill by the sea and I've seen, well, at least a few gay people. Of course, those are about the only comparisons one can make between Plaka and San Francisco.
"Kastro" means "castle". After a while, the path gave way to uneven stone stairs and a rocky path. I parked the bike and walked the rest of the way up.
The castle houses an Orthodox church. It seems to be open only for services, so I don't know whether there are artistic treasures inside, or even these views:
The ride and hike were just the start of my Friday in Milos. I'll tell you more in my next post.
(By the way: This post is #3000. Thanks for reading!)
