Mykonos



The unwary reader of Lonely Planet may get the impression that Mykonos' days as the hotspot for Greece's party goers is on the wane. Such a reader may decide to live it up on Ios instead of Mykonos. Such a reader, however, would be very disappointed.

Mykonos remains a hub in the Cyclades for anyone yearning for Dionysian fun and with money to burn. It bears some of the best nightculbs in Greece - indeed, in Europe - with star DJ's spinning their technotronic hypnosis day and night. For anyone wanting to sleep and enjoy a relaxing, quiet time in the Greek Isles, Mykonos is bad. For anyone wanting fun, however, Mykonos is good.

Sadly, when I first arrived, I was in the category of those who wanted quiet. My credit card debacle was still frustrating me and I was down to my last available Euros. So, destitute as I was, I chose to spend my first (and, originally planned, only) night on the island at an isolated camping ground on the far side of the island from the buzz of the central town. This place, called innocuously enough "Paradise Beach" would be a place for me to collect myself before making my tired way back to the mainland and, from there, back up to Montenegro.

I was in for a shock. Paradise Beach was one of the most insane spots on the island, with hundreds of hormone and alcohol addled young revelers partying and making wild all night long at the ultra-loud, ultra-hip, and ultra-expensive central, open air club. My plans for quiet were dashed. I was also frustrated to learn that there were no tents for me. So, trying to escape the noise and fervor of the club, I dragged my sleeping bag out to the beach and, with the cheapest bottle of wine I could find, tried to drink myself to sleep. However, the music nagged. It was, in fact, very good techno, and the party-goers' energy infected me. So, eventually, I spent some of my last euros on the entry fee and went to the club. After a few hours dancing and drinking I stumbled back to the beach and slept by the surf, awaking the next day to the heat of the beach and the dull warmth of my hangover.


Sleeping by day after partying by night on Mykonos

That day I was supposed to leave Mykonos. I took my belongings and waited in the town for my ferry. While I whittled away the hours I went through my belongings. This is when I discovered that the reason my back card hadn't been working was because, stupidly, I had been trying to use my old one. the one that had expired two years ago. I was speechless when I found my proper card in my bag, inserted it expectantly into an ATM, and received the boon of fresh, copious, delicious cash. My fingers trembling with fund-filled joy I went on a buying spree. New clothes, new sunglasses, a new cellphone, a ticket to leave the following day from Mykonos, and a cozy room in the center of town with an actual bed and shower. Heaven. Pure heaven.







Scenes in Hora

That night I went wild. I danced and drank at downtown's Space Club and ogled the girls dancing on the stages there. Then, at night, I went to one of the late night discos: Cavo Paradiso, allegedly the 3rd best club in Europe, but I couldn't really tell why - just hundreds of Italians, a swimming pool, quiet music from a lame sound system, and cold girls. The view was nice, though.



Space Club


Cavo Paradiso

As dawn broke I made my way back the hotel, rested an hour or two, and checked out. I was feeling good, happy, refreshed. But of course - as always happens at times like this - tragedy struck. I went online and found out my wonderful, dear, beloved cat Phantom had died while I was away. Feeling that empty feeling of bereavement that accompanies loss, I went to Paradise Beach and watched the waves. I was feeling melancholy, listening to the slow moan of the surf, when suddenly music erupted behind me. An impromptu party exploded at one of the cafes. Although I was sad, I decided to put off greiving for tomorrow. I grabbed a bloody Mary and joined the dancing throngs. On Mykonos, you forget your troubles.





Paradise Beach


Sunset