At the end of my tour of the Greek Islands I alighted at Mykonos for a couple of days wandering around that island and the neighbouring one of Delos.
It has been a place I've been curious to visit since seeing my Father's photos from his own visit several years earlier. He'd been to the island on business, but in his free time, he'd taken his camera and sat in the shadow of the famous windmills overlooking the ocean and tail end of Little Venice. As the restaurants below opened for the evening trade, Dad captured a photo of racks of succulent octopi drying in the evening sun. If that was a standard image of somewhere like Mykonos then I wanted to be there.
Like all of the Greek Islands, Mykonos was a charm, a town of rambling streets between white-washed houses dotted with the vivid blue architraves or a flowering red hibiscus or voracious bougainvillea.
As you descended the hill towards the port, the intertwining streets created a maze of shops and eateries in which it was almost impossible not to get lost or side-tracked. On each attempt to traverse the distance between the hotel and the foreshore you would discover something new, something unexpected, something that needed to be investigated further.
It has been a place I've been curious to visit since seeing my Father's photos from his own visit several years earlier. He'd been to the island on business, but in his free time, he'd taken his camera and sat in the shadow of the famous windmills overlooking the ocean and tail end of Little Venice. As the restaurants below opened for the evening trade, Dad captured a photo of racks of succulent octopi drying in the evening sun. If that was a standard image of somewhere like Mykonos then I wanted to be there.
Like all of the Greek Islands, Mykonos was a charm, a town of rambling streets between white-washed houses dotted with the vivid blue architraves or a flowering red hibiscus or voracious bougainvillea.As you descended the hill towards the port, the intertwining streets created a maze of shops and eateries in which it was almost impossible not to get lost or side-tracked. On each attempt to traverse the distance between the hotel and the foreshore you would discover something new, something unexpected, something that needed to be investigated further.
Eager to capture the simple beauty of the place, my camera was almost permanently attached to my wrist, or at the end of my hand focussed on one or other of the delights I kept stumbling upon.
However I did notice one thing that I wish I could have changed, one thing that I wish I could have removed. Either that or be old enough to have visited Mykonos before it's arrival. It was the power lines and electricity cables that ran in as rambling a manner over the rooftops and above the streets of the town. Photos of picturesque avenues or vistas over the town were marred by the perpetual presence of these cables. Looking down on Mykonos town from the hill on which my hotel was located or from the middle of the harbour, it felt virtually impossible to achieve a photo that wasn't impacted on by these intruding lines.
However I did notice one thing that I wish I could have changed, one thing that I wish I could have removed. Either that or be old enough to have visited Mykonos before it's arrival. It was the power lines and electricity cables that ran in as rambling a manner over the rooftops and above the streets of the town. Photos of picturesque avenues or vistas over the town were marred by the perpetual presence of these cables. Looking down on Mykonos town from the hill on which my hotel was located or from the middle of the harbour, it felt virtually impossible to achieve a photo that wasn't impacted on by these intruding lines.
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