Celador and her crew sailed into Mykonos in early May, before tourist season had begun in earnest. We were able to enjoy the beautiful Cycladean architecture and the iconic windmills for which it is famous without hordes of people. The local business people were friendly and enjoyed chatting with us, which of course made our visit more fun. Since there was only a day for us to explore, I took a lot of pictures. Here are a few of them.
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These villas exhibit the best features of Cylcadic architecture;
Pure white cubist shapes softened by curved walls and gables, and decorative brick dovecotes |
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Mykonos town on the bay. It's sandy beaches and throbbing nightlife (in season)
make it one of the most popular tourist destinations in the Greek Islands. |
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| Sixteenth century windmills overlooking the bay were used to grind flour. |
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| An old piper playing his goatskin bagpipe and singing a mournful shepherd's song. |
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| The part of town called Little Veniceis the artists quarter. |
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| The tall houses, now cafes and tavernas, have painted balconies which hang out over the sea. |
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| It was Mother's Day, and Greek families turned out in happy crowdss to celebrate it. |
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| The famous Paraportiani church. |
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| In Greece, there are grand panoramas of nature, and small, cozy vignettes of artful simplicity. |
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| An artist displays his work in a complimentary setting. |
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These ladies, of Mykonos and Switzerland, come each day to feed and doctor the
feral animals of Mykonos. A cat being fed some medicine just scratched the Greek lady! |
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| The traditional dovecotes have been used as a decoration on this stairway. |
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| These French boats found a great place to anchor! |
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| Kids having a blast on the beach. |
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| A little fisher. |
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| I met these English and Welsh ladies, fresh off the airplane from UK, at a cafe and we had some laughs! |
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| Girls relaxing on the quay. |
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| The sun setting over our marina, and bringing to a close our day in Mykonos. |
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| Captain Ron and me. Thanks, Ron, for a lovely cruise. |
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| “This is a great moment, when you see, however distant, the goal of your wandering. The thing which has been living in your imagination suddenly becomes a part of the tangible world. It matters not how many ranges, rivers or parching dusty ways may lie between you: it is yours now for ever.” Freya Stark |
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