It has been years since I went to the Saronic islands of Greece. Hydra, Aegina, Poros…with their charming ports and stately architecture.
What about Spetses? It’s the sleepy island further down in the Saronic gulf. Intrigued by an article I read about how Spetses has no cars; only a few horse-drawn buggies, I decided to read more about the island.
It’s true that there are no cars but there are motorcycles and mopeds whirring by you from every which way. At first, I was startled by this ant colony effect of transportation from the island’s visitors but eventually I became accustomed to it. Actually, I found it an endearing part of Spetses’s vibe. Many Athenians flock to Spetses for their nearby island retreat from the big city. It’s a “see and be seen” spot for many. For most, however, I’m sure it’s quite the opposite.
Reportedly, Onassis and Jacqueline vacationed there before marrying on my favorite island; Skorpios. (I’ve been to the public access part of Skorpios and the surrounding environs on a most magical boat excursion.) We took the ferry boat from the Piraeus port of Athens to Spetses, passing Hydra and Poros. Due to those stops, the ferry ride was a couple of hours but extremely enjoyable adjusting to the Saronic Islands “look”in contrast to the Cycladic islands we had just visited. That’s one of the details I adore about Greek island clusters. They are all unique. The Ionian, Cycladic, Dodecanese and northernmost island clusters each have their own distinctions. As our ferry stopped at Poros to pick up passengers, the port town patina sparkled. So different from the joyous blue and white Cycladic architecture, these Saronic islands have a very elegant and stately veneer.
Ornamental railing, statuettes, subdued painted doors and windows, and even the seaside promenade were serene. Being there in late September, we did not encounter many tourists. It appeared that the visitors were mostly local mainland Greeks. After doing many boat excursions and daring climbs and hikes at the previous Cycladic island we visited, Spetses forced us to slow down. You can walk the island. We took a horse buggy one way and walked the way back on one occasion. 
The one taxi (or so) that is available was too expensive to take out to a wilderness area so we chose to do a more cultural tour of the island. Our Air BnB was in the town center and the hosts were so welcoming and friendly. It was so easy to dine, shop, and stroll. If you wanted beach time, you took your towel and sat on the pebbly beach. We saw fishermen catching octopus. 
Another time, we saw a beautiful Romanian tourist set up a picnic on the seawall with her favorite cheese, meats, and wine from the adjacent charcuterie shop. She even lit a votive candle right there in the array of delicacies. I asked if I could take her photo and as we chatted, I discovered that she and her friends visit the island frequently and thus knew the charcuterie shop well.
Being active travelers that we are, we sought out museums in order to learn more about the island. The Laskarina Bouboulina museum was here on Spetses and her statue stood proudly overlooking the sea. How fortuitous this was for us! (My parents’ dog is named after Bouboulina.) Bouboulina is a fascinating, historic figure whose home has been turned into a most edifying museum. Easy to navigate (no pun intended for this famous female admiral) and get lost into the information, we sauntered through the home’s rooms. We absorbed every detail. Best part of all was when we met the docents who are her sixth generation descendants! I cannot tell you how meaningful that is to experience male descendants of this female heroine continuing her legacy…six generations later!https://www.neomagazine.com/2022/03/so-who-was-bouboulina/?fbclid=IwAR18mLYalHcHysIVhlolfZx2e8Mrumr5S71UuGL9p4_R7lGh-cm7hsD2bfk
I found a boat in the port with my Greek name on it: Evgenia. That’s never happened to me before as my name is not that common. I saw a restaurant named Dino’s. My father’s name was Deno and he was an extraordinary cook. I returned several times to a favorite boutique challenging myself to add pieces to my wardrobe transporting that European look back to midwest America. We slowed way down. We played many games of Gin Rummy while drinking cafe frappes and eating loukoumades; the honey and nut drizzled pastry puffs while people watching at the port. Those motorbikes continued to buzz by us as we became part of the energy of the island.
We shopped in an antique store that combined textiles, artifacts and icons as well as a quirky mannequin dressed half vintage/half modern. We unraveled the layers of Spetses like a spool of yarn. Her village roads, climbing floral vines, enigmatic estates, and island pride are all pieces of this Spetses puzzle. The historic distinction of being home to Laskarina Bouboulina sets her apart from the other Saronic islands.
I’m glad we whet our appetite for discovering this island. The Spetses charm is very suitable for many tourists and one that I look back on fondly, now. While I still prefer the other island clusters, I must admit that a favorite feature is that we could gaze upon the Peloponese mainland across the gulf. The Peloponesus terrain beckoned to me with all the childhood memories of being at my father’s village. Peloponesus was a mere 25 minute ferry boat ride away. Tempting!
A nice closure to our Spetses visit was being able to view the nearby Saronic islands again on the way back to Piraeus. You exit the quiet retreat of Spetses to return to the bustling metropolis of Athens…and you’re ready for it because you’re rested and recharged.
©Gina Michalopulos Kingsley
photos by Gina Kingsley
All these years that the show ponies, Santorini and Mykonos pranced and galloped for all the tourists to see, there was Milos quietly reveling in her volcanic ash and obsidian glory.
To personify this island, Milos is both a goddess and a warrior. She’s Aphrodite and Athena rolled into one. Ironically, the Venus de Milo (the Roman version of Aphrodite) is said to have emerged from the frothy, foamy seas of this very island. Looking at her, she boasts the same cobalt waters and white washed villages but underneath her soil is a rugged, earthy, rocky mass. Unorganized and still somewhat untouched by excessive tourism, she’s a virginal island. You have to go through somewhat treacherous measures to reach her stunning beaches. No boardwalks or even trails or footpaths leading to the openings of stunning caves and coves leave you compromised. You park your rental car and start the descent through paths of rocks and pebbles which can “avalanche” at any time. We had the bruises to prove it as well as the scrapes with a dusty volcanic ash to wear like a badge (the first time we went) . It made it more exciting to reach the beaches and openings to absolute splendor. Some tourists used walking sticks which is smart. Some Milos beaches taunt you with their “come look at me, come find me….but I will cut you up in the process. Come here if you dare. Ha, ha! You slipped, tripped or fell.” Persevere though because it’s worth it.
The menu is handwritten in various languages inside a book. Enchanting! You might even be seated at a table with others like we did. It was a delightful way to meet strangers on vacation. O Hamos was so worth it, we dined there again that week.
The kayak ride was short but exciting. We arrived to the Palmento Grove Garifuna Eco Cultural and Fishing Institute. Its own private island and inland lodge was designed to represent the authenticity of a traditional Garifuna village. Who are the Garifuna? They are the Afro-Caribbean people who are indigenous to Belize. Garifuna descend from the Western Africans and Arawak Indians which make their traditions so fascinating. We walked the footpaths of this isolated sanctuary to learn about the sustainable farming practices. Our guide identified medicinal plants and herbs that are used to treat cancer. Soursap, Spanish oregano and the famous cassava were among the plants we studied. Spanish oregano is used to treat sandfly bites and cassava is made into a 10 year old bread as well as cassava fries (which are more delicious than French fries, in my opinion.)
After our tour of the medicinal garden, we donned tribal tunics and entered the hut where the dance lessons took place. The vibrant teenage girl danced barefoot across the hut to the drum beats of the musicians. Four generations were present that day from great-grandfather, to grandmother, to mother (the dancer) and even her infant daughter. 
We breathlessly followed her steps which are much more difficult to do than they looked! The homemade rum punch and wine offered at the end of the lessons was a welcome treat. Although it was still midmorning, the rum punch was needed to quench our thirst. 
We talked with our guide about more thoughts of the Garifuna experience and journey. It was epiphanic to me to understand how the oppressed prevail and maintain their identity. It was explained to me that the Garifuna were looked upon as the lowest ranking of discriminated ethnic groups in their area but they choose a life of positivity and optimism. I understood that to mean that it’s the oppressors who live mired in their negativity and toxic feelings while the oppressed rise above it and claim their identity and life values.
©Gina Michalopulos Kingsley
Our expert guide told us where to hold and place the flashlights to look for the eye-shine of the nocturnal animals that would lurk among the trees and banks of the river. Many of us had never heard the word “eye-shine” before. Looking for the eye-shine of these animals was challenging. I felt frustrated that I could not spot the animals’ eye-shine unless the guide pointed them out with his laser. It felt a lot like the times I had ultrasounds for my pregnancies and could not see the details on my babies that my husband and doctor could see.
I thought it sounded trite and so different from the traditional style of worship. What did it mean? Years later, I understood the metaphor. It was during the 2-22-22 “milestone.”
“Ekklesia”, the Greek word for church, means assembly. I love my church assembly back home. On this day, I realized that some people have to disassemble, though. In solitude, free from distraction, every prayer that has resided in my heart has emerged this morning just as the sun rises and lifts higher on the horizon. The rays extend to lift the orb. 
The sun and earth are synchronous; like life, like relationships. The sea breezes softly push me and keep me in my chaise lounge. The chaises are the church pews. Now the gulls have started to attend this church. My coffee is my communion and fryjacks are the communion bread. The ocean waves are the pounding chords of the church organ and the gulls are the chanters. The locals walking their dogs are the ushers and altar boys. The hymnal is my spiral where I’m recording this sermonette.
Your house might already be very edited, purged and organized due to the pandemic quarantine a couple of years ago. But if not, here’s some ideas:
The visual trance would have been enough to enjoy but the visuals were enhanced by the rituals of the villagers. The imagery of ladies pasturing sheep and donkeys in a huge field was intensified by the dust kicking up around them in a haze. The small tools and rocks in their hands piqued my curiosity. While I’m sure that’s not that dissimilar from farming practices back home, this was an opportunity for me to really ponder and observe the wonders of agricultural life.
Saw-toothed agave plants and succulents paved the borders of the fields and blended perfectly with the terra cotta burnish which gleamed in across the hills. Peru is quite possibly the earthiest landscape I’ve encountered. We popped in and out of the villages of the Sacred Valley outside of Cusco for a most unforgettable day. As historically significant as each landmark was in Moray, Maras, and Chinchero, it was a moment in a simple, patio courtyard which resonated with us.
Outside of many earthen dwellings, there were sticks with red sacks tied to them in a balloon- type shape. A plastic, red “balloon” sticking off of huts of red tile roofs and stucco houses was peculiar. 
There were other symbolic emblems to look at on the rooftops; crosses, bulls, fertility symbols, pom pom strands, etc. Our guide pointed out the red sack and how it identified that a certain ritual occurred inside those homes and patios. So the guide parked the car and took us into the patio. The dirt ground underneath our feet, a chicken or two fluttering nearby and vining florals welcomed us into this inner sanctum of any villager. Why do I call it an inner sanctum? Because I know this particular feeling of inner sanctum. I grew up around this feeling. My childhood backyard was the sacred ground of my father, the urban farmer extraordinaire. He could grow things that never seemed possible on Oklahoma soil. The more eclectic the yard decorations were, the better. To this day, my own yard echoes those props of my past… wind chimes, hummingbird feeders, bird baths, etc.
Being a hop off/ hop on bus tour, I told my husband we should hop off and see what Little Havana was all about. Having been 4 years since I was in the real Havana, Cuba, this was a nostalgic opportunity to reminisce. My husband has not been to Cuba so I thought this might be a little taste of it for him.
Also known as “Calle Ocho”, Miami (8th Street), Little Havana is the neighborhood/district to the Cuban exiles of the 1960’s, as well as immigrants from Central and South America. Originally, it was a neighborhood established approximately in the 1930’s of other local residents. Little Havana established itself when Cubans fled Castro’s regime in 1960 thinking they would set up a temporary residence until he was deposed. However, by 1970, it was roughly 85 % Cuban and it became a permanent settlement. It is the best known Cuban exile district in the world. Other Hispanic communities have settled there including Haitian, Dominican, Puerto Rican, Mexican as well as Central Americans. 
The murals are vibrant and expressive, representing the Cuban flavor so well. As you shop among Cigar shops, boutiques, Havanese menswear clothiers, cafes and taverns, you find yourself hoping to linger there longer than an hour or so before the tour bus circles back. Stroll, shop, watch the elderly play dominos in the patio of Old’s Havana restaurant and build up an appetite for a Cuban sandwich or any of the Cuban delicacies.
Boutique owners will tell you where the best cigars are rolled and sold. You’ll also discover where you will want to park yourself for authentic mojitos and tostones or patacones. We chose Old’s Havana where live music beckoned to us, especially since an elderly Cuban man was dancing outside of the restaurant for an hour. He parked his bike and did all the moves from his youth. Nearby, a friend of his shook a hand instrument to the beat of the Cuban music. 
I have always loved how Cubans in Cuba use big springs of mint and not muddled slivers. However, I had never had a mojito with an actual sugar cane stick in it! Chomp on it to taste the sugar. Hold it in your hand to see the bright red streaks on it. Have fun with this sugar cane cigar!
Old’s Havana is worth it. Not only does it have the live music and courtyard patio but it also had this unique dining table! A vintage car replica. What can beat that?!
Little Havana was full of murals, too. Proud artwork defined the area.
After some purchases and a very satisfying dining experience, we caught our bus to resume our tour of Miami. This taste of Little Havana made me curious about the area. Here’s some factoids about Little Havana: