Niko’s office
It was with some trepidation that we arrived on the island of Zakynthos. I had been told by multiple sources — including two of my Greek cousins — that it was an island to be avoided, swarming with drunk Brits on package holidays, invading Laganas beach by day and slithering into the bars and clubs by night. Only to reappear at some impossibly early hour of the morning to catch a little sleep and then hit the beach to start the cycle all over again.
Laganas is all that, which we learned after driving over on a Saturday night for a drink at one of the clubs — Rescue. The strip was a calamity of flashing neon and ear-splitting club music pounding from the depths of places like Sizzle and Cherry Bay. At Rescue it was “Barmy Bingo” night — apparently a big deal in Britain — where scantily-clad and randy 18-year-olds alternate rounds of bingo with table dancing, hip-gyrating and shouting lyrics to pop tunes offered up by an obnoxious DJ in tight shorts. All while chugging Sex on the Beach cocktails.
The rest of our group opted to stay at the villa — a wise choice on their part, because you wouldn’t be far off in describing our place as a little piece of heaven on earth. An impossibly steep and narrow dirt track on the southwest Marathias peninsula terminated at Villa Lamar, a sleek, modern and spotless four-bedroom house with infinity pool and jaw-dropping views of Turtle Island floating in the blue sea far below. Our neighbors were a troop of wild goats who would sometimes graze on the vegetation in our front yard.
This was our base for daily excursions around Zakynthos, which has become one of our favorite Greek islands. A member of the Ionian Islands group, situated off the west coast of Greece, Zakynthos and its fellow “nisia” are greener and more fertile than their Aegean cousins.
They also have something of an Italian flavor since they were once controlled by the Venetians. The rolling hills of Zakynthos, blanketed with olive trees and pencils of cypress, evoke the Tuscan countryside. But apparently the more Italianate buildings, churches and palazzos that once stood in the towns were erased by an earthquake in 1953.
The best way to explore the island is by boat, since the steep coastline is studded with coves and beaches that no roads could ever reach.
Our boat trip began at the main port of Zakynthos Town. From there we sped up the coast and rounded the north end of the island. The farther from town, the more rugged and beautiful the landscape. We stopped for swimming at a number of spots, each more impressive than the last. For some reason, the water took on a slightly different shade of blue from one cove to the next, but everywhere it was incredibly clear and clean.
Zakynthos is most famous for Navagio, also known as Shipwreck Bay, a remote corner of the west coast where a steamer, suspected of smuggling, ran aground some decades ago. The rusting hulk lies half buried in the sand, surrounded by magnificent white cliffs. Landslides off the cliffs are frequent and a recent one closed the bay to swimmers — but our captain was able to motor in for Instagram opportunities, of which there were many.
Our neighbors
The next day the owners of our villa let us use their boat for the afternoon, piloted by their son, Nikos. A bit of a rogue and beach bum, with a bearded face like Aristotle, Nikos was passionate about his native island, its wildlife — and way of life, which he enjoyed to the fullest. As we motored toward our first stop, Turtle Island, Nikos sipped his Fix beer and talked about the Loggerhead turtles that nest on the beaches, at one point stopping to retrieve a piece of trash floating on the surface — a hazard for turtles.
He told a story about how, when God created the earth, he gave each region to different people. France to the French, Britain to the English, and so forth. But in the end he realized he’d forgotten about the Greeks. So, with a gleam in his Aristotelian eyes, Nikos declared that God bequeathed the best part of the world, which he’d reserved for himself, to the Greeks….
On Turtle Island there were a number of marine caves and Nikos deftly maneuvered the boat into one, declaring it to be “Niko’s Office.” Inside it was a refuge from the blistering sun, as well as the numerous rented boats speeding back and forth just outside. The shallow bottom leveled off to a tiny “beach” of sand at the very back of the cave, and the bluest-of-blue water formed a private plunge pool for our over-heated bodies. It could have been a hiding place for pirate loot, like something out of Robinson Crusoe.
From there it was a quick hop across the bay to a cove embraced by perpendicular cliffs, for yet more fantastic swimming and snorkeling. Nikos picked some leaves from a wild plant called Kritamos growing out of a chink in the sun-scoured cliff face, and offered them to us as “Greek LSD.”
I’m not sure it quite lived up to that name but it really didn’t need to. The sun, the sky, the water and the cliffs were all the stimulation we needed.
