A small-ish island in the Cyclades: Tinos, Greece
Traditional basketry, vernacular architecture for birds, and a village made of marble
That Tinos is a relatively small-ish island in the Cyclades is surprising, considering it’s home to more than 50 villages. You can crisscross the island in every direction in the span of an hour, as long as you don’t get queasy from hairpin turns and narrow, shoulder-less roads with vertiginous views over cliff sides. From where we stayed in Tripatomos (see notes for reco), we could see Mykonos across the Aegean. It’s very close. Same cerulean sea, same wild, wind-sculpted landscape covered in scrub, wild herbs and wandering goats, but the two places are vastly different. Perhaps because of the annual influx of religious pilgrims who make the trip to worship at the Holy Church of Panaghia Evangelistria (some wearing knee pads, all the better for crawling from the port), the masses of mainstream tourists have historically avoided Tinos. As a result, much of the island has been left gloriously unspoiled, submerged in lost time and still hanging on (by a thread) to the old ways. It feels a million miles from Mykonos.
TRADITIONAL BASKET WEAVING
In the basket-weaving village of Volax (population 51), which is inexplicably surrounded by giant boulders, craftsmen still make hand-woven willow baskets from reed and osier (sometimes even harvested under a full moon), using the same techniques as their ancestors. It’s an endangered craft to be sure, and when we visited, there was only a single workshop open for business that day: master craftsman Kyrie Adonis started weaving baskets when he was 12 years old (some 60+ years ago), and his studio just off the main drag doubles as a shop. We were the only people there, and he was seated in a cane chair, his gentle yet commanding hands working with a stash of reeds leaning against the wall. After bending them to his will and tucking in the ends with all the grace and certainty of a musician plucking an instrument, he handed the small basket to my daughter. His wife helped us pick out a few additional baskets, before directing us to the Volax Folk Museum– a small house stuffed floor-to-ceiling with traditional furniture, tools, textiles, tapestries, clothing, books, lace, and just about anything else that relates to daily folklife. Difficult to reach for tour buses, this village has a few really lovely traditional family taverns for lunch, bits and bobs for sale on the street–everything from baskets to capers and preserves– and if you make a point to wander down side streets, you’ll be rewarded: some beautiful human took the time to write Greek poems by hand across the facades and doors of the abandoned homes.
THE MARBLE VILLAGE
There’s a rich history and culture of marble in the village of Pyrgos, and there is literally marble everywhere you look: streets, street signs, statues, buildings, fountains, lintels, archways, even the bus stop is made of marble. Overlooking a quarry, the Museum of Marble Crafts is a large museum dedicated to marble as a craft, covering the function and history of the local quarries to the process of carving and a display of marble artifacts. It’s incredibly comprehensive and interesting from an historical and functional perspective. But tucked into the village streets is the house/studio of Yannoulis Chalepes, a smaller, more intimate experience dedicated to the most notable marble sculpture artist to emerge from Pyrgos, and for me, where the real magic lives. Chalepes is a beloved native son, though his life was difficult (his parents forbade him to sculpt after a battle with mental illness, and he spent four years confined in a mental hospital in Corfu). In front of the museum stands his most famous work, Sleeping Beauty, the original residing in First Cemetery in Athens. Inside, a collection of his sculptures set against the modest yet beautiful backdrop of his home and studio. Once you’ve exhausted the marble sightings, grab a small table under the plane tree at Kentrikon in the square for a Greek coffee and galaktoboureko.
DOVECOTES
Perhaps what I became most fascinated by are the thousands of dovecotes scattered across the island, intricately designed pigeon houses and an extraordinary example of vernacular folk architecture. In the little speck of a village of Tarambados, you can park and walk to an overgrown ancient path that lies just beyond the outskirts of the village. There are no signs, but if you walk to the edge of town, you’ll see an old stone path that extends into the countryside, through a labyrinth of overgrowth and scrub, up rock steps, and eventually, if you take the unmarked–and a little bit daunting–dirt footpaths, right alongside a handful of dovecotes.
We loved the paths so much, we went several times and never encountered another soul. Dead-ends and wrong turns should be expected, but it’s worth the effort. I promise you won’t get lost. Go at the golden hour, as the sun begins its descent, streaming through archways and branches and intermittently dipping behind mountains. One of those pinch-me, peak travel moments that remind you to always, always take the path less traveled.
—Meghan McEwen
FOR YOUR NOTES
The best way to experience Tinos is to rent a house. We loved Villa Tripotamos–a traditional house renovated by a brother-sister architecture team–for its spacious and charming courtyard and patio with a pool and outdoor kitchen.
The beaches are all insanely beautiful; you can’t go wrong. The thing to know: You can choose between organized (beach chairs, cocktails, sometimes a little cafe) or unorganized (completely natural experience – you’re on your own). We prefer the former, so we don’t have to pack a lunch or leave early if we get hungry. The beach bar is a little fancy at Agios Fokas Bay, but the beach is protected, so still swimmable during the Meltemi (see below). We also didn’t have a four-wheel drive rental, which made accessing the more remote beaches feel like a bad idea.
There are delicious, typical family-owned tavernas across the island. Make sure to get a reservation at Thalassaki, which is so close to the water’s edge that you’re likely to get wet while eating, and it’s absolutely worth it.
Pro tip: Beware the Meltemi. This summer wind is known for making the sea unswimmable, blowing sand in the eyes and doors off cars.