Kasos - Simply Magic

Kasos is one of the southern-most islands in Greece. We were first introduced to it by Jennifer Barclay, an English woman who lives in Greece and has written a series of books about the islands around here. It sounded far less touristy than many islands and it wasn't hard to reach from Halki, so it was a no-brainer for us to visit.

Our ferry pulled in in the dark and the owner of our apartment met us at the port. John jumped on his bike and followed us there in her car. We only drove for 5 minutes but I had to make her stop multiple times to wait for John to catch up. It was strange - she seemed to just keep forgetting he was there. It was also strange that we had one bike and four bags and had to go up multiple stairs yet she made no offer to help.

She took us to our apartment, which was lovely, but we looked at the bed in shock. The "double bed" was more like a king single. We asked if this was the double bed listed in our booking and she came back with many well-rehearsed lines like, "It's a traditional double bed. This is the size they are." Clearly this bed has caused issues before. The apartment was like a furnace so we turned the aircon on while she was there. She looked at us in horror, told us it was the cool season now (the sweat was pouring off her!) and turned the aircon temperature up!

She was what we call a "form over function" person. She was far more concerned about making the apartment all tizzy and pretty than making it workable for guests.

We had a lovely balcony with views over the port town to the sea. We spent an uncomfortable night in the tiny bed and started wondering if we could spend a whole week in this bed. We didn't have to wait long to work out what to do. I won't go into details but she turned out to be a very strange lady. We didn't want to stay with her any longer. The lady refused to give us a refund and even booking.com could get nothing from her. It left a bad taste in our mouths.

Earlier that day I had gone for a walk through a village called Arvanitochori and had the idea that we could stay in a village instead of the main port town. I couldn't find anything available online though. We had met the lovely owner of the local bakery so we asked her if there was somewhere we could stay in a village. She immediately made a phone call and, 20 minutes later, we were picked up the owner of a hotel in the exact village that I really liked.

The room was great - large, simple and almost a third of the cost of the other place. It had great views over the other villages and down to the sea. I did wonder though if we were swapping one host problem for another.

Costas had a bit of a grumpy manner and an interesting way of expressing himself. When he got worked up he yelled loudly and became impossible to understand. Costas' outbursts were accompanied by much head shaking and, even though he wasn't a large person, his jowls wobbled wildly which added to the theatric, and somewhat scary, spectacle. When he asked why we didn't book his hotel to start with we said it was probably because there were no rooms left on booking.com. (To be honest, we actually had no idea. We booked months ago!) Costas told us that he doesn't put all his rooms on booking.com and asked/yelled "WHY DIDN'T YOU CALL?" Five minutes later he was telling us how solid the hotel was and started banging on the walls, yelling something in Greek.

Despite this, we felt he was probably ok (we hoped) and we took the room. It was the best decision we made.

The hotel was just outside the village of Arvanitochori. This village was absolutely beautiful and we soon met many wonderful people here. 

This sign was on a tree in the village.

Before we had even spent a night here, we had a festival to attend! Our lovely bakery lady told us that a local monastery was having a name day festival. This is the same sort of festival that we went to in Halki. At the allotted time - 9pm! - we drove up the mountains to the monastery. There was no doubt where it was - cars lined the road for ages before we got there. We made our way in and fortunately found the bakery lady. She was able to fill us in on what was happening. Soon they came around with food. Everyone gets fed at these festivals - you don't have to be a local. There were so many people to feed that the servers passed plates along a line down the stairs to save going up and down them all the time. We asked for one plate between us but the guy said, "Have two!" and pushed a plate each into our hands. The food was delicious!

Soon the music started but they didn't have a lot of dancing space here so only about 20 people could dance at a time. One of them was our horrible apartment lady, so we left after a while. This festival was very small compared to Halki's but it was still great to see.

We soon fell in love with our village. Another, younger, Costas (I'll call him Cafe Costas to distinguish him from Hotel Costas) was the waiter in the only kafeneio in the village. He had lived in the US for 16 years and spoke fluent English. He was a mine of information for us. We ate dinner there the next night but guess who turned up - yep, the batty apartment owner! This really is a small island in many ways.

Costas had some great lines. He was very clever but so deadpan that we often missed the joke.

I was rapt to learn there were a series of well-marked hiking trails around the island. They were accompanied by a good map and went to really interesting places. As someone walking by herself, this was a godsend and, with five villages within hiking distance from each other, I had a blast. We went for great walks and rides most mornings. Our village was a great base as it was fairly central. 

I was coming backs through our village from one of my walks one day and happened to come past the kafeneio. I said good morning to a group of older people who were sitting there. I took a few more steps then they called me back. They all had plates of food in front of them that I now recognised as special religious food - cakes, barley rusks, biscuits, holy bread (a special sweet bread) and a chocolate. They beckoned for me to sit down and they put a plate of the food in front of me! How could I refuse? The ladies who couldn't speak English smiled a lot at me. (Cafe Costas later referred to them as the 'church ladies'). One of the men spoke some English and when I asked if there was a celebration he explained that it was the name day of a church. I pointed to the big church in the village asking if it was that one but he said it was a smaller one in the other direction. I later wandered over that way and found at least three churches in 50 metres. Looking around I could see more a bit further away. I'm guessing that there are a LOT of church celebrations here!

The priest and the "church ladies" (and men).

I ate a yummy biscuit, drank some too-sweet cordial then raced back to get John. By the time we got back, the people were just leaving, so we sat down for a quick drink coffee. About 2.5 hours later we left! There were so many people to talk to. We talked to the priest through Costas. In an amazing coincidence we learned he has a cousin who lives in - wait for it - Yarraville. That's where I was born and went to primary school. The same cousin has a Greek restaurant in Footscray. Courtney lives in Footscray - next to the Greek Orthodox church. Actually it's not such a big coincidence. When I was a kid we grew up with Greek, Italian and Yugoslavian immigrants. There were heaps of Greeks in the western suburbs.

A photo for if we ever find the priest's cousin.

We talked to the father of Cafe Costas. His wife has Alzheimer's and he looks after her full time. She needs to be fed and washed and he does it all. There's no nursing home on the island. There is one on another island but he seemed concerned about the care she would get there, raising the topic of nurses who hasten patients' deaths! 

We learned more about the island. Their busy tourist season is only five or six weeks long, a lot less than other islands. Winter is tough here. There's nothing to do and, until recently, most people didn't have heating. Costas remembers as a child hiding under layers of blankets to keep warm. There aren't that many young people here. The young ones tend to leave for work and the old ones are retired and want to stay so there's a skew towards older people. Mind you, Costas' family moved to the US for 16 years but they all came back.

After a while Costas had to go somewhere and said he wouldn't be long. There were no other staff there at the time. Together with the priest (who couldn't speak English), Costas' dad and another guy who could speak English but didn't say much, we just sat under the shade of the bamboo roof and chatted. Soon only Costas's dad and us were left and Costas' dad had to go an check on his wife so John and I stayed to look after the cafe! Only one person turned up and they hung around until Costas returned. We felt very privileged.

Looking after the cafe.

As we left, John saw some zucchini plants in someone's garden The owner saw us (she was one of the 'church ladies') and soon Costas and us were inside her walled garden checking out the marrows and discussing the bad grape season. The gorgeous lady with a big smile and twinkly dark brown eyes picked us each a bunch of basil and suggested, through Costas, that we take it back to Australia! He explained to her that we can't do that but she showed us how to keep it in water to keep it fresh anyway. We love these small but important conversations.

We left the village with big smiles on our faces :)

We ate at the kafeneio a number of times. The food was simple - wonderful, tiny dolmades, souvlakis, burgers, Greek salad and the Kasos version of Halki pasta - pasta with local cheese and fried onions. The kitchen was a small separate room beside the eating area and on our first night we could see straight into it. The souvlakis were fresh but the burgers were frozen. The pasta was penne straight out of a packet. We were under no illusion of expecting fresh, home-made meals!

The island is large enough that there are many places to explore, either by bike, car or walking. One of our favourite places was a remote beach with a cantina on it. The gorgeous stone beach was decked with a few umbrellas and day beds and the lady in the cantina cooked up a few simple but amazing meals. A Greek/English guy was there on our first visit and we ended up with free cheesecake and good conversation.

Gorgeous beaches were everywhere. How could we not swim in this stunning bay?

The beach was all rocks though.

Apart from a solitary lionfish, which isn't native to Greece and is a pest, we saw very little underwater life of interest but we had fun anyway.

Another day we drove to another beach cantina but it had closed for the season. The beach was beautiful though.

We got talking to yet another Greek man who lives in New York. So many people here speak great English because they've spent so much time in the US. We met Cafe Costas' cousin, Voula, at the festival and she told us there's a whole street of houses in The Bronx that are all owned by people from Kasos. They have a very strong community there.

On my walks I saw spectacular views, inviting beaches and gorgeous villages. Every walk I did had surprises in store. They were probably the best series of walks I've done in Greece.

The hike up to this church (the tiny white speck in the distance in this photo) was a tough slog in the hot sun!

Providing physical evidence that barley was grown here years ago, old windmills stood scenically in various stages of ruin or renovation.

Seemingly on every hilltop and around every corner was another colourful, gorgeous church.

People put up small metal plates inside the churches indicating the health problem they're having trouble with. Clearly an optometrist needs to visit this village!

Walks had to be done early before the heat of the day and I only saw one other walker on all the trails I did.

On one of my walks the track was blocked by a wooden pallet and some spiky branches. A man and woman were nearby and, as they let me through, the man said that they were doing something with their sheep. About half a dozen hobbled sheep were in the yard and the pallet was blocking their escape. Curious, I asked what they were doing with the sheep. "Eating" was his answer! I wished them luck and went on my way. Ten minutes later, a car pulled up beside me and it was the farming couple again. They asked if I would like some fresh eggs and were trying to hand me three eggs through the car window. I was 30 minutes into a 2.5 hour walk in the sun and all I had to carry them in was my daypack! Can you imagine the mess if I broke them in my daypack? I absolutely had to refuse this one and they seemed to understand.

On another walk, there was a detour to a cave. There are lots of caves around here so for this one to get a mention, I thought it was worth investigating. The entrance was small and looked pretty standard but, to my amazement, there were some very old stalagmites and stalactites inside! There were no coloured lights or guided tours here but the minerals created their own bit of colour.

Spectacular landscapes were everywhere. These were all taken in one valley on a refreshingly overcast morning.

I'm checking out the goat and the goat's checking out me.....

I walked up the valley to a place where someone's built a church inside a naturally arched cave. It was cool!

There was a very bleak but striking view from the church.

For all my glowing reports about this island, life is still tough for the animals. The farming community is stronger here than most places we've been to and hence there are more animals. There are an unusual number of dogs too and most are chained up. Some sheep and the odd goat are hobbled by having two legs on one side tied together with rope. Judging by the way they walk, it looks to me like many sheep spend a lot of their lives hobbled.

On one walk, the track led through a farm. The sheep clearly thought they were being fed and all came running up to me.

With the islands being so dry, it's hard to grow crops so hay is brought in. We saw a truck pull up on a roadside and he sat there for several days selling his hay. Each time we went past he had less hay. We saw the same thing on Amorgos last year. The loaded trucks, the drivers and sometimes the drivers' entire families, travel to the islands on ferries to sell the hay.

One striking thing about this island is that the old stone fences were often really well maintained. As people are still seriously farming, they need to keep the goats out. Some stone walls had clever stone overhangs at the top, others leant outwards making it even harder for goats to get in.

Some were built in incredible locations!

Others made tracks very scenic.

Some of the sheep were so hot. There were very few trees so the sheep seek shade wherever they can. One day I saw a mob of sheep lined up single file against a rock wall as it cast about half a metre of shade at that hour. Sheep often stood with their heads tucked behind rocks, trying to get a smidgeon of shade, like these ones near yet another church on a hill.

Despite the heat, clouds tended to hang around the mountain tops. They didn't deliver rain though. I was very happy to have some clouds on some of my walks! One night there were storm clouds rolling in from one side and the mountain-top clouds rolling in from the other side and they met in the middle. It was cool!

I found this poster one day - apparently the island does turn green sometimes!

With so many mountains, there were spectacular views everywhere.

The main port town is called Fry (pronounced "Free") and we were quickly introduced to the generosity of the Kasiots on our first morning when John and I met at a cafe after our walk and ride. A guy brought some bottles of water out for us and wouldn't let us pay for them. We came back to that cafe a few times but never saw him again. We think he must have been a customer!

Fry has a beautiful old port. Our cafe overlooked it.

Colourful boats bobbed in the harbour.

The church tower looked stunning at night.

Like on other islands there were gorgeous renovated homes and charming older ones. The patina of some of the older surfaces is wonderful!

Our last full day on the island was my birthday. I was out walking in the morning when I met an old lady riding a donkey to a nearby village. She was really friendly. She didn't speak English but I worked out she was asking if I was going to the nearby ancient site (I was).  I couldn't have asked for a better start to the day!

Showing the wooden frame of the saddle. 

I had no info on the ancient site I went to but I found a wall built across the front of a cave. The wall was constructed of huge, accurately cut stones. Some were about two metres long and half a metre high, We haven't seen this stonework anywhere else on the islands. The cave was up a steep hill. It would have taken an incredible amount of effort to get those huge stones up the hill. Inside was the ruins of a stone room. it must have been very important to a community at some stage in history.

We had a wonderful zoom call with our kids for my birthday and it was lovely to receive birthday wishes from family and friends. 

Back in our village that evening we got talking to a lady we passed. She also lived in the US and was here for four months with her father. She was desperate to go back to the US but her father wouldn't budge. I guess her father knows many people here but she didn't and she was bored.

We talked about the gorgeous old house across the road that was falling down. She said her grandmother grew up in the house but she got very sad telling us they no longer owned it. I think she said they were away too long and someone else moved in. There must be some sort of squatter rights perhaps. Regardless, nobody's looking after it now.

She asked if we had met her father. She said his name was Nick and he always says "Welcome" to people and wants to tell them about the village. We hadn't met him. We said goodbye to her and walked to the cafe. A man walked up to us and said "Welcome!" We said "Hello Nick!". His jaw dropped. He asked if we'd met him before. We explained we had met his daughter. He then said "I like to tell people about the village". It was very funny.

I wanted to go to the cafe for my birthday dinner. It was such a lovely spot.

We invited Hotel Costas and his wife Julia to dinner for my birthday, They gave me a couple of small gifts, one of which was a fridge magnet with a painting of the cafe on it! This will have pride of place on our fridge at home.

From left to right - John, Hotel Costas, Cafe Costas, Johnny Boy (Cafe Costas had nicknames for everyone!) and Julia. So, of the four men, two are called Costas and two are called Yiannis (John).

John surprised me with a chocolate birthday cake that he had had made in the bakery in Fry! One of the church ladies was with us by then so she got the job of cutting the cake up. She was clearly the Aunty Shirley of the village. (My Aunty Shirley was a great cook and always knew how to cut up a cake for a crowd.) We shared the cake around to people we knew and to people we didn't and all had a great time. The cake was superb!

Sadly, this was our last night on Kasos. We took this photo of the sunrise as we waited for the ferry at the port the next morning. 

The island seemed reluctant to let go of us though. One of the church ladies was on the same ferry. She wanted to buy us breakfast on the boat. Ferry food is expensive so this was a very generous offer. We compromised with letting her buy John one coffee.

What a magical island this was. We are learning though, it's not so much about the island as about the area we stay in. We still can't pronounce our village, Arvanitochori, but we love it!

Heather and John