As I stepped off the ferry on Hydra I met up with a friend. We’d already arranged to split an Airbnb together on the island while attending our mutual friend’s wedding. Our apartment promised spectacular views, but as our host led us to the place from the port what proved far more spectacular was how quickly we became exhausted. We walked up one cobblestone street lined with stairs after another — my friend later said she counted 387 steps — all in the unrelenting Mediterranean summer heat.
I’d briefly visited Hydra during my trip to Greece last year as part of a one day cruise. I had a feel for the main port area of the island; you can easily walk from one end to the other in ten minutes. But on that brief visit I didn’t have time to explore the hillside so I had no idea how steep the streets could get.
The view from the roof of the apartment really did look amazing as you can see in the panorama photo above. Still, the thought of admiring the view in direct sunlight after walking up that hill had as much appeal as entering a sauna after running a marathon.
Another twist to all of this was Google Maps doesn’t have great directions on Hydra. Some pathways are on the map, some are not. While trying to find the place again and getting lost, I went back and labeled a bunch of pins on the map so we’d know how to get from the port to the Airbnb and back. This worked well and I’m glad Google Maps lets you do this… otherwise I might still be lost on that little island.
Housing issues aside I’m still enamored with the island itself. The port town is a charming old place seemingly frozen in time with dusty old stone buildings, restaurants with fresh seafood, beautiful beaches, and a night sky glowing with lights.
The only modes of transportation on Hydra aside from walking are boats and donkeys. It’s nothing like the more touristy Greek islands; nobody’s going to try to sell you pirates movies at the beach, and none of the restaurants have barkers trying to drive you in. It’s easily the most laid back place I’ve traveled to. Just don’t step in the donkey droppings.
In Greece you’re always going to have some cats. This scrawny little one kept appearing on our patio. I felt guilty because I kept forgetting to bring back some fish for her (at least I think it was a her.)
Those allergic to cats should remember to pack allergy medications when visiting the smaller islands of Greece as there may not be any pharmacies, and the cats tend to be very friendly.
On to the double wedding. Both grooms were brothers marrying their long time girlfriends among a large audience of friends and family from around the world. Just to get this out of the way, no, there was no plate smashing, and I don’t think anyone drank any ouzo.
The first ceremony was very traditional in a Greek Orthodox church. Here my Greek friend and his girlfriend (the same couple mentioned in my post on Rome last year) were married in a ceremony I didn’t fully understand — because it was all in Greek. It began with a dramatic, almost operatic mass, proceeded by a number of marriage rituals. Seeing which guests knew when to stand, sit, etc. made it clear who was from Greece and who was not. Rice was thrown, hundreds of photos were taken, wedding favors were handed out, and many candied almonds were consumed.
Soon we all made our way to the port to board boats headed to the next wedding.
The second wedding was held at a large outdoor venue on the seaside with the sun setting in the background. This was a more contemporary wedding in English. Both ceremonies featured the traditional stefana crowns, or ring-shaped crowns tied together with a long ribbon. One is placed on the bride’s head and one on the groom’s, and then the best man swaps them back and forth three times to represent the holy trinity.
This was followed by dinner, drinks, and dancing at the same venue well into the night.
Many meals were shared on the island, from a very late lunch after I’d arrived to a very late dinner the night following the weddings. Aside from catching up with a few familiar faces, I also met a group of American volleyball players I’d heard about but somehow had never seen face to face.
My final morning on Hydra I had to quickly pack up and make my way down those 387 cobblestone stairs to the port to catch an early ferry. Once I’d taken a taxi back to the airport, I hopped on a plane to my last stop on the trip.