Sailing Milos: dazzling light and crystal waters

17 June 2022. I can see the rocky shore coming closer and closer as the captain tries to maneuver the sail boat around a bend in the coast line. I can see him wrenching on the wheel trying desperately it seems to keep the yacht from crashing onto the rocks at the base of the high cliff. I watch the rocks coming closer; we’re only about two metres from them and I’m becoming more and more alarmed. I glance at the captain. He’s clearly working hard to keep us on course, turning the big wheel one way and then the other, continually making adjustments. Why are we so close? Why didn’t he steer the boat further away from the shore when he had to make this turn? The waves are buffeting the boat, the water is churning, seemingly trying to pull us in towards the shore.

And then suddenly we are free, and around the corner and into calmer waters. Phew. That was stimulating!

We’re on a sail boat doing a circumnavigation of the island of Milos, one of the islands of the Cyclades, the Greece of the travel posters. It’s not a true circumnavigation; wind and weather mean we start with a bus trip from Adamantas to Pollonia, thus cutting off the northern peninsula and north coast of the island, and a chance to see  the unique rock formations of Sarakiniko from the water. I’m mildly disappointed, but once on board it hardly matters.

Leaving Pollonia





we are underway, and I am happy; barefoot on a boat on the water on a warm sunny day. Life and bliss have joined hands.

There are about twenty of us, and although that may seem a lot in a small space, it never feels crowded. There are people from all over; from Canada, Switzerland, India, America, England, Germany, France.








It’s the best day. It’s one of those days when everyone is happy. How could we not be? Sailing around this beautiful island on a brilliant day, the light glinting off the water, the water so blue it’s almost too dazzling to look at. We are all enchanted, contented, delighted with everything.

Aphrodite’s husband, the god of war, was not so delighted. He had killed Adonis because Aphrodite had had an affair with Adonis. So Milos and his wife Pelia killed themselves out of grief because Adonis was Milos’ best friend. Are you with me so far? Anyway Aphrodite, the goddess of love and beauty (married to the god of war? That does not seem like an easy alliance), wanted to protect young Milos (the son of Milos and Pelia) so gave him an island. The island was originally a nymph, but Poseidon, the god of the sea, was furious with the Cyclades nymphs (who knows why) so turned them all into islands, and Milos, the island, became one of the “homes” of Aphrodite, who bestowed upon it love and beauty. I’m sure there’s a message here somewhere I’m just not sure what it is. Oh the tales we tell to try to explain the inexplicable.

Milos the island was once a nymph of the sea and the home of Aphrodite. That explains everything – the beauty, the hypnotic enchantment, the elation. We are all under a spell. Recommended by a friend, Milos is one of the lesser travelled islands in the Cyclades, though more and more people are discovering it. The company we tour with is called simply Sailing Milos, a family business owned by George and Eleni Mathioudakis. George has been showing visitors the treasures of Milos Island since 1995 after years as a captain in the merchant navy. The family now own several boats and a hotel in Adamantas.

Soon we come to the island of Polyaigos, off the east coast of Milos, all pink rock and jagged outcrops,








where we swim in the pristine waters of the appropriately named Blue Bay,

and the Greek-Canadian lads from Montreal climb barefoot on the rocks.





We really enjoyed this crew of seven, all of them of Greek heritage, fluent in Greek, French, and English, and taking a last holiday before starting university. Truly fine young men. Of course Don has something in common with them since a couple of them are set to attend McGill University, Don’s alma mater.





The coast of Milos is an ever-changing landscape of colour, from pink to orange and the bright yellow of sulphur.








We pass the abandoned mines of Thiorichia at Paliorema Beach. Sulphur and other minerals have been mined here since ancient times under brutal working conditions – high temperatures and lack of ventilation. Mining stopped in 1960s due to reduced demand when sulphur became a by-product of petroleum refining at very low cost.





Continuing on we come to Gerakas, accessible only by boat, and the best beach of the day. Neither Don nor I swim here, but it turns out that watching everyone is plenty fun enough.

Once anchored, Dora, our intrepid guide, swims ashore and suddenly starts climbing a hill of sand. Soon most of the guys are following her.





You can see here how high they all climb.





Next thing I see is the little Indian girl struggling up the hill. All day that child is fierce, determined not to be left out of anything. Dora sees her struggling so goes down to help her up to the others.





And then suddenly Dora is racing down the hill, legs pumping, sand flying! It takes no time for all the others to follow her.





Careening down sand hills is not enough. Climbing the shelves of rock, and swimming, must also be included.











See how happy we are!

And look at the colour of the water in this place. It’s something I notice all day – the colour of the landscape always changing, and the colour of the water always changing – from indigo to royal blue to pristine turquoise.





Somewhere in amongst all this activity we are fed; a cheese and ham sandwich, later a piece of cake, later still some Greek style appies,





and finally spaghetti with a tuna-tomato sauce followed by fruit kebabs. Except for the fruit, which was really good, it was all pretty ordinary, and the canned-tuna on spag dreadful. It was the same on the boat trip we did around the caldera in Santorini, and I remember reading somewhere that awful food is pretty standard on Greek sailing trips; so different than on land where the food is wonderful and the servings enormous. We loved Greek food except for on the boats.

Leaving Gerakas, we continue sailing the south coast of Milos, passing by Tsigrado Beach. I think a person must truly desperately want to get to this beach given that the only way down to it is through a narrow opening by ladder, then a very steep sandy trail with a rope to hold on to, then another ladder, all the while somehow negotiating a bag or backpack full of beach necessities. And then when you arrive there are no facilities and hardly any shade.





Traversing the waters of the south coast we finally come to Kleftiko, where the landscape is completely different again. This is one of the most famous “beaches” of Milos, though it is not a beach at all but a spectacular meeting of land and sea, and where the rock formations speak to us of the infinite variety and splendour of nature, but also of secret pirate hideouts, and untold assignations. It is not surprising that many pirates in the 15th-17th centuries had Kleftiko as their prime attack location for its good visibility of merchant ships travelling through the Aegean Sea. We, however, get to simply enjoy it. Lucky us!











Most everyone swims,








including me, away from the boat and around behind and through the arch,





and even with flippers and two pool noodles I discover that I’m not as fit as I thought I was. But I am determined, and eventually make it huffing and puffing back to the boat.

At last we all climb aboard again and continue on, by now travelling up the east coast of the island, the landscape changing and changing again – walls of white rock,





vertical columns,





and pink so bright it almost looks painted on.








This is Cape Vani, the northern tip of the east coast. It is rounding this cape that the captain comes in so close to the rocks. Don tells me later that he grinned at Don while he was doing it. Clearly he’s done it thousands of times and knows exactly what he’s doing. Just adding a little excitement to the day! As if there hasn’t been excitement enough already. Here he is at the helm with Dora.





And that Dora! Not only is she overflowing with information about the island, and leads everyone scrambling up the sand slide, she also decides to entertain us with some gymnastics as we near the end of the trip.








Finally, as golden hour approaches, we pass by Klima, a village of fishermen’s houses carved into the rocks where they store their boats against winter weather, each garage door a different bright colour so they can be seen from the sea.





And then home to the port of Adamantas, where we began this day of dazzling light and crystal blue waters, of good company and satisfying activity, of peace and excitement, and pure simple joy.








Next post: finally there really will be a (relatively) good news update about Don, and how we’re navigating this new normal.






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.