We’ve been climbing and climbing, up stairs, along narrow passageways, through archways and tunnels, until finally we get to the top, an open space, and the big Catholic Cathedral. We think this is our destination, the top of the town, but we see the man in the blue shirt off to the right.





He’s waving to us, beckoning us over, urging us forward. Come see this, over here! he seems to be saying. Why not? we shrug, and walk towards him. He then shows us into one of the most beautiful places we visit on Naxos.

First our jaws drop at the unexpected beauty of the place. And then we drop into silence. It’s an exquisite, tiny, richly decorated space, but even more beautiful is the energy. So still. So silent. So sacred. We are stopped in the best way. We stop the exploring, the busyness, the excitement, the sensory overload of travel, and just sit for a while, in silence, in peace. It’s heavenly. This is grace. Breathe in, breathe out. Ahhhhhhhh.








It’s Panagia Theoskepastia, a tiny Orthodox church from the 9th or 10th century, and the oldest building on the former acropolis of Naxos. I would imagine that very few tourists venture there, and probably none without the lovely caretaker encouraging people to enter. We do go into the cathedral, but the energy isn’t the same so we don’t stay long. I have no memories of it.

But first I’ll go back a bit. From Don’s notes the day before on Santorini: June 10th 2022. This morning we went for a final breakfast at Pelican Kipos: eggs scrambled with feta cheese and baby tomatoes, fresh bread, butter and jam, a piece of cake, tea for me, coffee for Ali, followed by the traditional free ending to our breakfast meal: mini donuts dipped in honey and crushed nuts. We love this Greek tradition of tiny free desserts after every meal.

Later that day we get a taxi to the port, then a ferry to Naxos. Our taxi driver tells us he is from Sparta. Hearing that shocks me into reality. To me Sparta is a powerful city-state of ancient Greece. It has never occurred to me that it’s a modern place, that it still exists, that there’s still a city and municipality called Sparta; I get geography lessons from travel, and history lessons. Anyway here’s the taxi driver’s very modern story: he’s a friendly chatty guy who admits that he doesn’t have six-packs. He tells us how he lost his business in the financial crisis in Greece and had left Athens to drive cabs in Santorini. He’s quite philosophical about the change in his circumstances, telling us that he feels much less stress driving a taxi than he had running his own business. Sometimes life’s toughest challenges can lead to better circumstances, despite the lack of six-packs.

Approaching Naxos by ferry you are greeted by the main town with the mountains behind it, and a quite startling and enormous marble doorway. It’s known as Portara, and it seems almost surreal, the only thing left standing in a wasteland of fallen stones.





Of course when researching Naxos it’s always mentioned. Well, it’s pretty hard to miss: Portara, standing alone on the tiny islet of Palatia and connected by a causeway to the mainland, it’s the obvious symbol of the island. Portara is actually the entrance to a temple dedicated to Apollo that was begun in the 6th century BCE, but never completed. It was a vanity project of the ancient tyrannical oligarch Lygdamis, who was eventually overthrown by the Spartans. All things must come to an end, even ancient tyrants. Except Portara apparently. And Sparta. So far.





Naxos is the largest of the Cycladic islands. The first night there, having dinner at a family-owned restaurant and eating authentic Greek food, I suddenly feel like I’m back in Greece after the theme park that is Santorini. Santorini is truly magical, but the small part we saw is different from ordinary down-home Greece. Santorini felt special and separate because it is; there’s a reason so many people flock there. On the other hand Naxos, being one of the less-touristed of the Cycladic islands, feels more authentic, no doubt because Naxos has a year-round population and strong sense of community that has existed for 6000 years.

Thracians were the original inhabitants, back around 4000 BCE, and Naxos was their leader. Since then the island has been ruled by the Carians, Ionians, Athenians, Spartans, Macedonians, Egyptians, Rhodians, and Romans. In the 13th century the Venetians established the Duchy of the Aegean, made the island its capital, and built a castle in what is now Naxos Town. For three centuries they ruled Naxos and ten other nearby Aegean islands. Chora is the Greek word for town, and the main town on Naxos is often referred to as Chora. Just to be confusing the pronunciation is Hora. One of the main towns on Crete is spelled Chania, but don’t be deceived by the spelling. It’s pronounced Hun-ya. And as for those Venetians – they were all over the Adriatic and Aegean Seas back in the 12-16th centuries. And just about everywhere they went they built castles.

This is Chora, a stack of sugar cubes except for the remains of the Venetian castle, visible as the brown stone walls.





It’s a bit confusing though because everything above and next to the stone walls was also part of the original castle, and within its walls lay elegant buildings – mansions, monuments, and churches as well as the duke’s residence and administrative buildings. This is the old Venetian town with it’s labyrinth of narrow passageways. The whole area is known simply as Kastro, the Greek word for castle, although fortified town would be a better way to describe it.

So we climb. From our small guest house down near the beach we climb the hill





looking for Kastro, the medieval heart of the town, and soon find ourselves in a maze of narrow residential streets,








draped with oleander, and with bougainvillea, that bright floral mainstay of the Mediterranean climate,











small gardens lush with greenery,





and residences with unexpected bright splashes of colour.





The higher we go the more convoluted it gets.











We pass people along the way, not tourists, but people who live here in this ancient place that has been inhabited continuously since the 13th century,








and where homes are juxtaposed chaotically with churches and other buildings, and laundry is hung to dry outdoors in the hot Mediterranean sun.





We pass through tunnels with wooden roofs centuries old,





through arched doorways with wooden doors of equal age,





and arrive at small courtyards





leading to staircases and buildings that still have the patina of lost times.





We come to the tower, the only one still standing of the original twelve.





Wealthy Venetians built their mansions around the duke’s palatial tower and some of their coats of arms are still visible, on walls,





and pavement.





Finally we arrive at the cathedral, and are beckoned into tiny Panagia Theoskepastia at the top of the hill.





Soon after we find our way back down to the water through the web of steep cobbled alleys, with homes and chapels in amongst the tunnels, archways, and ancient stairwells of the 13th-century Venetian stronghold.

Down at the water there’s an entirely different Naxos Town with a throng of restaurants and tavernas arrayed along the waterfront,














a small fleet of fishing boats,











a wide pedestrian thoroughfare on either side of the road








with places to stop and rest,





and our favourite ice cream shop.





Naxos is the island where we walk a long way from the centre on a busy main road looking (successfully) for a store to buy duct tape to reattach the handle to my case; where we eat an amazing spinach salad with balsamic dressing, pine nuts and cheese, followed by tuna steaks, and another meal of whole grilled calamari and huge Greek salads with thick wedges of feta; where we work our way through the biggest bowls of ice cream we’ve ever seen; where we visit some of the lovely inland villages; and where we spend a couple of days at two of the many beautiful beaches that fringe Naxos, doing what everyone does when visiting the Greek islands – lazing by the water. Homer called Naxos Dia, meaning heavenly, or divine. I have to say I agree.








Next post: a day trip visiting some of the inland villages of Naxos.







All words and images by Alison Louise Armstrong unless otherwise noted
© Alison Louise Armstrong and Adventures in Wonderland – a pilgrimage of the heart, 2010-2023.