Idyllic Symi
From the Daily Mail
Too noisy, sighed our British neighbour as we headed for the beach on the bus. The elderly Greek who had asked how she liked his island, Symi, looked taken aback. 'All that birdsong,' she complained, 'and donkeys, cats, roosters. I didn't get a wink of sleep.'
My friend Helena and I thought back to the sounds that had made waking up that morning - in one of the prettiest towns of the Dodecanese - such a soothing experience. Doves, church bells, footsteps on worn medieval steps, voices calling out in greeting. They added up to the sort of peace and quiet I had come to the Aegean to find.
There had been gasps from every newcomer on board as the ferry from Rhodes rounded a steep headland into the bay. Symi looked all set to stage an opera. Tiers of dignified, pastel-coloured houses circled the harbour, lapping up the sides of a pine-clad hill. Their classical proportions reflected a 19th-century heyday when Symi queened it over the sponge-diving industry.
In return for supplying sponges to the Ottoman court, Symi enjoyed trading privileges that brought the island serious wealth. Long since sponged out - though souvenir shops peddle imposters from all over the Mediterranean and Far East - Symi has gained a new lease of life thanks to tourism. Three cheers for the strict local planning regulations which have kept numbers down, preserving the exquisite townscape.
I would have confidently challenged the woman on the bus to find a single fault with our villa, a converted three-storey house, its various split levels furnished with chic simplicity. Sitting outside enjoying local yoghurt and honey for breakfast, the day stretched ahead, filled, enticingly, with the possibility of doing very little. Should we walk over the thyme-scented headland and flop into the sea at Nimporios? Or pick up a water taxi and head for a more secluded beach? On an island refreshingly short of mechanical noises, there were always ways of getting around.
Travel Guide: Greece