Cyclades Day IV: Syros

Syros. Well. Many of you have heard me wax lyrical about the joys of Nafplio/Nauplion. Ermoupolis, the largest town in Syros (and in the Cyclades) is the same, - or perhaps even better. Just like Nauplion, there are beautiful 19th century squares and mansions to enjoy, and the people are so, so friendly. It is also the largest town in the Cyclades, and the administrative centre for the region, so there is much more to do off season than in somewhere like Mykonos, where at least half of the shops and most of the bars were shut out of season. It was certainly the right decision to spend my Monday 'off' (when nearly all archaeological sites are shut) here.

Syros Harbour - Old Customs House et al

After arriving on Sunday night, I hopped on the last bus to get an idea for the geography of the island, - an hour-long tour of the more developed, southern half of the island, - and then wandered through the town. Just wonderful, though, as ever, there were poignant reminders of Greece's turbulent past throughout the town.

War Memorial

Syros Town Hall

As I explored, I found the cinema, and saw that the film Η λευκή Κορδέλα was scheduled that night. I was sure it was familiar, - the announcement stated it had won a Golden Globe and a Palme d'Or, but, perhaps because of the long day, I could not place it, or the director: Μίχαελ Χάνεκε. Odd name for an Englishman, - and the given foreigntitle, The White Band, certainly was not familiar. It was only when it started that it clicked: Das weiße Band. The film was just wonderful; the point here, though: it wrought absolute havoc with my Greek for the next eighteen hours or so.

The next morning, I continued my exploration of Ermoupolis, and then began the long climb up the hill towards Ano Syros, the mediaeval settlement full, in typical Cycladic fashion, of narrow windy streets, cobbled streets, tiny churches, but here with the added entertainment of stairs, and the slight quirk that many of these churches are Catholic, from the long Venetian presence on the island.

Deep breath

The path through Ano Syros is also the only way to reach the northern half of the island, through a lone pass through the mountains to reach my nominal goal of the day and excuse for the hike: a prehistoric settlement at Kastri. Up, and up, and up... a long, wild climb. About a kilometre outside Ano Syros, though, the first car to pass stopped to offer me a lift. I thanked him, and kept walking. Another five hundred metres... a second... then a third... then a fourth!

View over NW Syros with Andros in the background