More Of Kos, Then On To Kalymnos

A number of things changed on Kos between our arrival on Monday morning and the Saturday ferry to our next destination. For one, the dull grey start turned into some glorious sunny days with blue skies and temperatures in the low to mid 20s, interrupted by heavy downpours on the Wednesday but leaving us feeling that generally we have been lucky.  And, as the weather improved and the weekend approached, cafes and coffee bars started to reopen – not so much the tourist restaurants along the seafront but the cosy sites within the town, seemingly having moved on to a seasonal Thursday-to-Sunday opening regime.

For our last day with the rental car we explore the remainder of the island, including a more in depth look at the interesting village of Pyli in the island’s centre. The newer village, with its attractive plaza and busy tavernas, nestles up against a main drag with grocery stores, bakers and butchers shops, all evidence that this is a permanent town rather than one of the stranger seasonal places on the coast. But there is a third layer to Pyli, and a bit of a mystical one, too.

A few kilometres away, and considerably higher up the mountain, is the site where the original Pyli used to be, a village which grew up around the 11th century castle whose remains stand boldly at the summit. Somewhere around 1830, for reasons not totally understood by historians, the population of Pyli moved out, headed downhill and started work on the new location. The general consensus is that a plague of some kind wiped out most of the people, though the nature or identity of the epidemic, if that’s what it was, remains a mystery. Today the walls of the former homes house just goats and sheep while the ancient stonework keeps the rest of the story to itself.

An all-day walking tour of Kos Town completes our time on the island – there are so many ancient sites tucked into the corners of Kos that a full day is a minimum requirement. The imposing castle on the waterfront is unfortunately closed for repairs of some kind, but with the Roman odeon, the ancient stadium and agora, and the Casa Romana among the remaining sites, there is still so much of interest.

Casa Romana is an unusual place in that rather than leave the remaining walls at their ruined height, large parts of this impressive villa have been built up in modern times in order to recreate the full extent of the property. Not only does it achieve this, it also acts as protection from the elements for the wall art and fabulous floor mosaics which adorn the whole complex. This must have been home to some influential and prosperous people, most likely an island head in Hellenistic times.

Kos Town is a town full of oranges, in fact Kos is an island full of oranges. Streets are lined with fruit-laden trees, gardens across the island hang heavy with vivid orbs, fallers roll into gutters or get squashed by wheels. Either there’s a glut this year which far exceeds demand or it’s not harvest time yet, but whatever, there’s oranges all over the place. Or they might be tangerines.

Saturday morning. We’re at the ferry port far too early, there’s only three other passengers here, no port staff and no activity, but the morning sun is warm and there’s worse places to lose an hour than at a Greek island ferry port next to the blue Aegean. A moped rolls up. The other three passengers jump up, run to the moped, hand over cash and take delivery of coffee and pastries. They’ve ordered a takeaway breakfast for delivery to the dock. Now that’s what I call organised.

There’s something special, auspicious even, about arriving by boat into a welcoming port – a feeling which, no matter how many times we do it, is enhanced when it’s a Greek island. And oh wow does Kalymnos town aka Pothia tick every single one of those boxes, sweeping around its tightly curved crescent shaped bay and creeping as far as it dare up the barren mountainside. Windows reflect the morning sun in blinding rectangles, smells of baking drift from town to harbour, our smiling hosts are waving to us from the apartment balcony. It just looks every inch the perfect island port town.

Kalymnos is the island of sponge divers, the island of octopus meatballs, the island of rock climbing – and, judging by our first stroll around town, the island of beautifully photogenic architecture. Neoclassical buildings with angular gables, majestic churches with spires and clock towers, tight and steep alley ways where houses snuggle up tight to escape the wind – even the older crumbling places simply ooze character. Flights of stone steps elevate the curious visitor from sea to mountain with giddy steepness.

Soon enough after our arrival the puffer jackets and heavy coats of the Turks and Greeks are well justified – the Meltemi wind has overnight assumed its winter character and sends a biting straight-off-the-sea chill which seems to pass right through the rib cage. The sun teases with a pleasant warmth but the bite of Meltemi is winning, in the wind tunnels of the narrow streets and in shady corners, standing still is not an option. Flags stretch out in full, awnings rattle and leaves swirl in crazy dances. The cats of Kalymnos find the sunnier spots out of harm’s way and squat on their haunches. Felines aren’t stupid.

“Finally”, says the waitress as she delivers the beers, “winter is here. He is late this year”. 

She may be right, although this is an Aegean winter and not a winter which delivers frost or snow, but rather one in which the sun is still beautiful, the sea is still a fabulous shade of blue, one where our faces can still catch a tan despite the puffer jackets and sweatshirts. As long as we hide from Meltemi.