Milos is the untouched Greek island you’ve been looking for
The island has a mythological landscape, uncrowded tavern-lined port towns, and the bluest water in the Cyclades. So how come you’re only hearing about it now? The hippie-chic fashion crowd is drawn to Patmos for its out-of-the-way location and spiritual vibe; creative types love Hydra, whether they’re on a pilgrimage to see Leonard Cohen’s former home or are art fans checking out the Deste Foundation exhibit at Project Space Slaughterhouse. A couple of years ago, everyone on Instagram seemed to be piling onto wafer-thin Antiparos, with its sandy Aegean coves and barefoot lifestyle, but no real claim to fame besides the fact that Tom Hanks and Rita Wilson have a home there.
The mines are arguably the reason Milos has been overlooked for so long, written off as an industrial island. These natural resources have been profitable since the ancient Greeks dug for obsidian, the black mineral used for tools before steel, and today Milos has silver, bauxite, and kaolin mines, and the world’s second-largest mine for bentonite, which is used in cement. But the minerals are also why the white sandstone of Sarakiniko Beach looks like a lunar landscape, Gerontas Beach is lined in black volcanic sand, and the reddish shores of Paleochori are heated by sulfur springs.
The beautiful beaches of the island, as well as the wonderful sunset can compete well with Patmos, Antiparos and Santorini. Milos is “that untouched Greek island that everyone is looking for”, writes in her dirvambhian tribute to the Aegean island the journalist Eleni Gage, who is the daughter of journalist and writer Nick Gage. The article is posted in the “Travel Bible”, the American edition of Condé Nast Traveler.
“We spent a morning at Sarakiniko, named for the Saracen pirates who would hide their boats under the white cliffs that resemble massive folds of whipped cream. As our kids splashed in the water under the seemingly snowcapped rocks, I said to Emilio, “They should film Game of Thrones here,” thinking how much they could save on CGI graphics. A single mile-long hiking path crosses several eras and civilizations, stretching from the medieval mountainside town of Trypiti to the early-Christian catacombs dug into the mountainside, past the ancient Roman amphitheater and down to the village of Klima, where the waves lap right up to the syrmata. This only-in-Milos architecture was created by fishermen who wanted to sleep above the shop, so to speak, and built apartments over their brightly painted boat garages (which are now being snapped up by foreigners). Above Trypiti is Plaka, a village with winding streets meant to stymie pirates; an archaeological museum celebrating the island as the birthplace of the Venus de Milo; and a ruined castle and aptly named café-bar Outopia, whose sunset views rival Santorini’s. Then there are Milos’s beaches, 70 give or take: nude beaches (Psaravolada) and sandy beaches with freestanding sea caves just wide enough to squeeze into (Firiplaka); beaches you can only get to by shimmying down a rope ladder (Tsigrado); and, best of all, those reached by sea. “