Greece is hot, literally and figuratively. A few years ago I mostly associated the country with all-inclusive holidays and party tourism, but by now I (thankfully) know better. I was already raving about the mainland of the Peloponnese, and about Mani above all, an authentic, unspoiled slice of Greece, but buzzing Athens managed to surprise me too. This city had been on my wish list for years, precisely because I had no picture of it. How big is Athens, actually? How is the city put together? What do the streets look like? A bit rough, a bit grimy maybe? Not something you can pour into a standard mould, in any case. It was exactly that tension of not knowing what I’d find that drew me in.

And so it came to pass: I coloured Athens in bit by bit and got lost in the tangle of streets, first on my own, later with my boyfriend. And yes, this unpolished city lived up to my expectations. Graffiti drips off the walls, there always seems to be a film of dust over the city, but find your way through the countless alleys and you’re rewarded with trendy wine bars and great little tavernas. I was there for a week and wasn't bored for a second. The touristy streets and a scorching, imposing Acropolis have been tackled, the freddo cappuccinos have been tested, and in-depth research has been carried out in countless tavernas. In among the chaos I found souvlaki for €2.80, a wonderful hat atelier, a wine bar without a wine list, and the answer to the question: why are so many places in Athens called ‘Steki’?

The neighbourhoods

Let’s start with the basics. The centre of Athens is put together a little differently from most big cities I’m used to, and it took a while before I had the layout figured out. The ‘touristy’ neighbourhoods Plaka, Monastiraki and Psiri, all centred around the Acropolis, are only five to twenty-five streets each, so they run straight into one another. For this piece I’m grouping them together as ‘the centre’.

Don’t write them off: these touristy neighbourhoods have good hotels, nice little bars and a few authentic shops too. Psiri, for instance, used to be full of craftsmen, mostly leatherworkers and coppersmiths, and although most of that craft has (sadly) had to make way for nightlife, you can still see the old Psiri in there. You’ll now find a flashy souvlaki joint, next to a sandal shop, next to a terrace full of tourists, next to a vintage shop.

To get to the Acropolis you first have to fight your way through the alleys of Plaka, but it’s a lovely walk and there are nice little shops there too. Monastiraki, in turn, has a mix of souvenir shops and antique dealers, and a rich market history. So don’t let the centre of Athens put you off, there’s plenty to discover. Still, it’s definitely worth straying off the beaten track as well, to get a taste of the Athenians’ own atmosphere in the other (residential) neighbourhoods.

I’ve split this piece up into zones for you:

• The centre (Plaka, Monastiraki, Psiri)

• Kypseli

• Exarcheia (incl. Kolonaki)

• Pangrati

The centre (Plaka + Monastiraki + Psiri)

“Confusing, why are so many places in Athens called Steki?” I thought while picking out restaurants before the trip. It’s not a name, as it turns out. Steki (στέκι) loosely translates as something like “hangout” or “regular spot”. In Athens there are dozens of them, maybe hundreds. The label can be stuck on tavernas, cafés, ouzeris, bars, pool halls, neighbourhood pubs or even little squares. It’s where people come together and where you’re not exactly a guest. It’s your steki, your hangout. By definition it’s unpolished, and it can’t be fancy.

So a place like that seemed like the perfect first introduction to Athens. The first two days I was on my own, and I was after a good steki where I could eat very traditional Greek food and read a holiday book. Friends had tipped me off about Tis Theatrou to Steki (the steki of Theatrou street), where they’d been on an earlier trip to Athens and gone back to several times. You have to walk a few streets out of the tourist centre for it, and when the surroundings start to look just a bit dusty and the smell of the nearby Varvakios Agora hits your nose, you’re there.

The crowd is mixed: Greek market workers grabbing a bite on their break, friends catching up, and the odd clever tourist (you!). You still eat cheap here, the bill will probably stay under €15. Being used to Amsterdam restaurant prices, I made the mistake of ordering food for four all by myself. It comes quickly, because you pick a lot of the dishes straight out of the glass display case. But no rush, because steki, so feel free to hang around. It’s the ideal spot for a no-nonsense Greek lunch: giant beans baked in the oven, courgette balls and a simple Greek salad.

In Omonia (heads up: not the best neighbourhood in Athens) you’ll find the cult spot Lefteris o Politis. If you’ve still got €3 in cash on you, you get a grilled pita with beef souvlaki, tomato, onion and red paprika powder. You choose between regular or spicy, and you eat standing up. Go for the experience alone!

There are so many good places to eat and drink in Athens that in this piece I’m only sharing the ones I’d genuinely go back to. I saw Linou Soumpasis recommended online so often that I wanted to eat there myself, but I regretted that a little: personally I think there are nicer and better restaurants to be found in Athens.

Athens has a striking number of little bars, terraces and tavernas. There turned out to be another explanation for that, besides the climate and the tourism: after the (credit) crisis Athens went through an enormous hospitality boom. When the economy collapsed, opening a café or bar was relatively easy to get into (low start-up costs, no expensive permits), and voilà: plenty of young Greeks who couldn’t find an office job started something in food and drink.

I thought the modern (natural) wine bar Wine is Fine was a really lovely spot, and definitely worth the hype. Online I read here and there that it’s supposedly a touch pretentious, too much see-and-be-seen, but I felt none of that. If anything, there were plenty of tables with people sitting alone, drawing and writing. The crowd is young and a bit quirky, and the Greek and French wines and the small plates were very pleasant. Another nice detail: there’s no wine list on the table. The staff come by with bottles, based on what you tell them you like. They get the wines “from all over” on their wine trips, sometimes in bigger numbers, other times just a few bottles.

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There’s plenty of shopping in the centre too! Whenever I go to a country, I always try to work out which products make it special. In the case of Greece: olives, honey, yoghurt, things made of straw (hats, bags) and leather. Then I start a serious deep-dive.

Out of a tangle of shops I fished up Lisa’s hat atelier: Savapile in Psiri. The entrance alone is iconic, completely sprayed with graffiti, you’d walk right past it. But head down the little staircase to the basement and you step into Lisa’s loving domain, rewarded with the most beautiful handmade straw hats. In the corner of the shop stand an old sewing machine, a hat press and a shelving unit with dozens of moulds. The walls are covered with hats in every shape and size.

After a chat with the owner I found out that Savapile is a family business that’s been going since 1960, and that Lisa took it over from her father. As a child she learned the trade by watching him after school and over the summers. Now she makes every hat by hand and helps customers from all over the world. It’s lovely to watch her at work, and I happily listened and looked on while I tried on a few hats. The shop is really approachable, but look around properly and the framed Vogue and Harper’s Bazaar covers on the wall tell you her hats are getting the international attention they deserve by now. What a lady.

I scored myself a gorgeous straw hat with a canvas top, which was in turn made by a friend of hers who makes clothes two doors down. I think it’s a truly wonderful place (so wonderful that I interviewed her briefly, that conversation is coming online soon!).

It’s also fun to nose around the many leather shops, which you’ll find in all the neighbourhoods above (and really all over Athens). Achillion Sandals, for example, is a good address: real leather sandals for around €25. At the higher end you can go to Ancient Greek Sandals, above The Naxos Apothecary, where you’ll find leather sandals and jelly sandals for around €150.

Colourful Nomad in Monastiraki is a recommendation too, a concept store with Greek and international brands: homeware, clothes, jewellery and bags, though with a slightly higher price tag.

Greek products (olive oil, Greek yoghurt, honey) are so good you basically want to smear them straight on your face. The Greeks must have thought the same, because there are a few lovely natural cosmetics brands that make exactly that possible.

Apivita was founded in Athens in 1979 and revolves around honey and plants, natural and sustainable. The shampoos and the face wash are good. Korres is known worldwide by now; I bought a lovely, dirt-cheap fragrance and a lip balm there myself. The cooling yoghurt line is very popular, as is the olive oil line from Crete.

You can pick these products up at most pharmacies in Athens, and just like the French ones, the Greek farmakeío are a bit of an outing for tourists. Want to make a real experience of it, then you have to go to The Naxos Apothecary. It was set up by the Korres brothers, from above, and is mostly about perfumes and body oils, with scents named after places on Naxos. The shop looks very luxurious but the products are affordable (including the Korres ones, then), and in the glass ‘lab’ in the middle of the store you can watch the staff making scents.

But... nothing beats The Olive Era. When I go to a nice hotel, the soaps are the thing I look forward to. I only discovered the brand during our trip through Mani (at the wonderful Kyrimai hotel), far from Athens, and I wasn’t going to make it to the physical shop anymore. Luckily I managed to stock up quickly at the airport, which nearly made us miss our flight. But wow, is this stuff good. Ultimate favourite: the shower gel with lime and basil, and the body lotion with olive oil. Holiday in a bottle.

Kypseli

Kypseli is such a great neighbourhood! Tourists still often skip it, and that’s a shame, because it has everything: traditional bakeries with cookies and spanakopita, modern wine bars, vintage shops, and rows of Bauhaus balconies to gawp at. I’m told this is the part of the city where a lot of trendy young Athenians and expats live, so this is where you want to be.

Everything revolves around the green strip around Plateia Agiou Georgiou. Around it are cozy terraces where Greeks sit playing cards and talking through the day. It all feels very relaxed here, and you won’t run into many tourists. Pull up a chair for a generous tapas lunch at Topa, where a mix of Crete and the Basque Country delivers an explosion of flavour on your plate. With fresh energy you’ll then wander straight into the Kypseli market, a creative community hub with rotating pop-ups.

My favourite spot in Kypseli is Komna Traka: lovely toasties, lemonades and freddo cappuccinos in a place that sits somewhere between a breakfast joint and a bar, with windows that slide open all the way around the building. In the evening you drink cocktails there with the locals. It’s open from 08:00 to 01:30, and I could easily sit here all day...

For vintage shopping in Kypseli there’s Vista Vintage, among others, with a small but lovely curated collection.

What do Athenians really love? (1) Parea, the company you eat and sit together in, (2) drinking coffee all day long and (3) bakeries. A good, traditional neighbourhood bakery in Kypseli is Remoundos Bakery. Here you score delicious spanakopita (filo pastry with spinach and feta), tyropita (filo with cheese), and a whole lot of different cookies: shortbread, olive oil cookies, butter cookies.

Stock up, because you’ll need fuel for the walk through Pedion tou Areos park to the nearby neighbourhood of Exarcheia, a big contrast with sweet Kypseli.

Exarcheia

Residential Kypseli combines well with a visit to Exarcheia. This is the left-wing student neighbourhood of Athens, known for graffiti and political murals on the one hand, and bookshops, record stores and natural wine bars on the other.

This neighbourhood is worth a visit for the terrace of Ouzeri Lesvos alone. Traditionally an ouzeri revolves around the ouzo, with small (fish) dishes eaten around it. Although I, and I’m a little ashamed to say this, gave the traditional ouzo a miss, I can still say with a clear conscience that you MUST go here if you’re in Athens. On the cozy terrace we ate red mullet in tomato sauce, revithia (chickpea stew with lemon and olive oil) and delicious taramosalata (a dip of fish roe, sounds daring, tastes great). And please don’t forget the dolmades with yoghurt sauce: little parcels of rice wrapped in vine leaves. The older gentlemen here work the tables under the vines with a lot of charm. If you’re with a big group, you eat in the converted garage. I thought it was one of the best meals out I’ve had in the past year, precisely because it’s so pure. Nowhere in the world does a paper tablecloth soaked in olive oil feel as good as it does here!

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If, like me, you’d rather skip the ouzo, you can have your drink at Bar Ideal instead, a retro bar with vinyl and vintage details.

Around the corner there’s also the lovely vintage shop MUNDĀ!

Pangrati

Even less known and more residential is Pangrati. It’s green and quiet there. There are countless little coffee bars, arthouse cinemas, bookshops and family-friendly terraces. Want to experience Athens the way the locals do, then this is a great way to spend your day.

A big tip is the student café Chelsea Hotel, the place to be for a drink in Pangrati. A great neighbourhood café that’s open from early until late at night, where you drink Greek beers or cocktails. In the morning there are dog owners with their dogs on the little terrace, in the evening it gets busy. No tourists, just a cozy pub full of Athenians.

Around Plateia Varnava, which to me felt like the centre of the neighbourhood, there’s a lot of good stuff. Favourites on the square: the industrial wine bar Terroirist Pangrati, for an organic Greek wine in the evening, and Varnava Cafe (Βαρνάβα), Pangrati’s neighbourhood café, for a mug of coffee or a cocktail. Or grab a sandwich from neighbourhood bakery Kallimarmaro (Καλλιμάρμαρο) and eat it at your leisure among the locals on the square.

A few streets on you’ll find the small, modern espresso bar Foyer for really good specialty coffee. Akra looked very promising too, but sadly we didn’t get to eat there ourselves.

A nice way to walk back from Pangrati to the tourist centre: through the National Garden and along Leoforos Vasilissis Sofias, the embassy street with its tall, imposing buildings.

One separate tip you shouldn’t miss:

Worth a mention of its own (and a taxi ride) is the well-known Ton Filon. This neo-taverna gets recommended a lot, and rightly so: the food and the atmosphere are fantastic. In 2023 the owners took over a run-down taverna that had stood empty for about ten years. Inside it’s stayed classic, outside you eat Greek dishes with a modern twist. We ate in the garden full of lights, served by staff who were clearly up for it.

On the table came smoked aubergine and a delicious steak with paper-thin fries, almost crisps. But next time I’ll order something more traditionally Greek, a good reason to come back!

The Shortlist:

The centre
Food & drink: Tis Theatrou to Steki, Lefteris o Politis, Wine is Fine
Shopping: Savapile, Achillion Sandals, Ancient Greek Sandals, The Naxos Apothecary

Kypseli
Food & drink: Topa, Komna Traka, Remoundos Traditional Bakery
Shopping: Vista Vintage
To do: Kypseli market

Exarcheia
Food & drink: Ouzeri Lesvos, Bar Ideal
Shopping: MUNDĀ

Pangrati
Food & drink: Chelsea Hotel, Terroirist Pangrati, Varnava Cafe (Βαρνάβα), Foyer, Akra
To do: National Garden, Leoforos Vasilissis Sofias

Other
Shopping: Apivita, Korres, The Olive Era
Food & drink: Taverna Ton Filon

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For me, this would be the fourth time in this wonderful country. My very first time flying anywhere was to Rhodes, the first (and only) all-inclusive holiday with my parents. From that small aeroplane window I saw the Greek beaches and the azure-blue sea rise into view for the first time. The sun suited us so well that a few years later we came back to toast our skins on Crete. What mainly sticks with me from that trip: white-and-blue shutters, a rugged mountain landscape, and a suffocating heat paired with a rental car without AC. When I was a student I went to Lefkada with friends, where we lay baking on the beach for hours and ate waffles late at night on the boulevard, surrounded by bouncing Greek kids who at eleven still didn’t have to go to bed and were wired on sugar. Every time was different, diverse and wonderful.

For this summer’s destination I was first inspired by Lucy Williams, aka the Greek Athena of 2026. Everything she touches turns divine, including the islands she returns to and writes about every year: Sifnos, Folegandros, Serifos... familiar by now to many a Substacker with a decent travel algorithm. I fell for the gorgeous pictures too. But when it came to booking this dream holiday, reality kicked in. The islands are small but popular, so the hotels are often pricey and much of it books up early.

So after a brief love affair, I said goodbye to the mythos of the Cyclades after all. We had to move on, in search of an alternative. After a whole lot of searching, reading, reading, reading and digging, we landed on the Peloponnese, a large peninsula down and to the left of Athens. It turned out to be a slice of authentic Greece, unlike the popular spots I’d been to and read about. Rougher, rawer, with endless olive groves, mountains reaching up to 2,400 metres, stone villages, and a landscape that shifts from green to rock-grey in an hour. On top of that, it’s the epicentre of Greek history: the Sparta of the Spartans, Olympia with the first Olympic Games, and the impressive theatre of Epidaurus.

The Peloponnese is everything we didn’t know of holiday-Greece with its chalk-white villages, crowded boulevards and boho-chic beach clubs.

At the bottom of the Peloponnese, three fingers reach into the Mediterranean. Mani is the middle one. The Ottomans ruled a large part of Greece for centuries but never quite got rugged Mani under control, partly because of the impassable terrain and partly because, beyond a few olives, there was nothing to gain. And that first point is exactly what makes Mani so great. There’s no central airport, so only those who come by car brave this region. There are no big cities, and no large-scale development. No resorts here, no loungers lined up fifty deep. While the rest of the Greek coast fills up, Mani stays an undiscovered oasis.

Dare to stray from the standard holiday route and you’ll drive from Athens to Mani in three hours, and as a bonus, no ferry hassle. The alternative is flying into Kalamata, from where you’re there in an hour. It took a bit of detective work to pull this trip together, and now I’ll happily give you a head start. Everyone should see this unspoiled corner of Greece with their own eyes!

Mystras

Step one of every summer holiday: first shift into relax mode and turn the volume of everyday life down a notch. You can do that very well at Mazaraki Guesthouse in the mountains of Mystras, technically just shy of Mani. Everything feels small-scale and chill: thirteen rooms, each one homey and uniquely done up (we slept in ‘The Plane’). In the morning the lovely staff personally bring an overflowing breakfast basket to your door. Otherwise we whiled away our days in the colourful chairs by the pool: a crossword, a good book, a Sparta beer and doing absolutely nothinggg.

Cross the street and you’re on a patch of grass strewn with little tables, with a sweeping view over Sparta. My boyfriend was struck by so much history in a single glance; I was struck by the snack platter that came with it: local cheese, sausage, olives... In the evening we had a cocktail there with the city lights in the background. I can’t describe this hotel any better than just really, really cozy. And all of it for €120 a night.

The food’s good too. On Mazaraki’s terrace you eat a daily special made with local produce, or something off the small menu. A good alternative is Chromota Restaurant just up the way, with a menu packed with Greek specialities; we had stewed meat and moussaka there.

In the valley below lie the castle, palace and monastery of Mystras. What we didn’t know: this was once one of the most important cities of the Byzantine world and the administrative centre of the Peloponnese. You can easily linger a while, because there’s plenty to do, like climbing up to the fort, into the great palace hall, and looking at the traditional dress of the old days. When we were there in early July, it had just been renovated and reopened a month earlier. Definitely worth an afternoon of your time.

Fully in holiday mode, after a few days you continue on to Kardamyli. Treat yourself to the route through the Langada pass if you like hairpin bends, deep gorges and panoramic views. Rightly one of the most beautiful drives on the Peloponnese.

On the way we also stopped in tiny Kampos. On the village square we drank a freddo cappuccino, its foam whipped to silk, for €2.50. A big spit of meat turns over a charcoal fire, and they carve you a portion to order. Want an idyllic stop among the locals? This is a good spot for coffee or lunch. You just pull your car up by the side of the road; parking meters aren’t a thing here.

Kardamyli

Time to discover the real Mani. The region splits into two parts, and northern Mani, which you enter via Kardamyli, is the gentler half. This village is defined by pebble beaches, tavernas serving fresh fish late into the night, and olive groves that slope down to the water. Kardamyli itself is small, a handful of streets with the cliffs of the Taygetos in the background. It’s surprisingly green, and you’ll find the typical Mani buildings: no white-and-blue shutters here, but honey-coloured limestone, bare and unplastered, with round arches above the doors and narrow towers poking up above the rooftops everywhere.

Where else can you still find a hotel with a private little beach for €100? In undiscovered Kardamyli! We stayed just outside the village at family-run Kalamitsi, in one of those authentic stone houses with an orange roof and, if you’re lucky, a sea view. Through the olive trees a little staircase takes you straight down to the private beach: bright blue water, high cliffs on either side, big sheets stretched against the sun, and otherwise not a soul. It’s all simple and easygoing here. The lady of the house was busy with breakfast, the son manned the front desk, and the husband was fixing the steps down to the beach.

Once you’ve had your fill of the private beach (unimaginable, but still), Foneas Beach and Ritsa Beach are close by. Foneas is a small pebble beach where people lug their own chairs and parasols, and Greek families and couples cool off in the azure sea. There’s one little beach shack with a small bar, and otherwise it’s nice and simple: snorkelling, jumping off the big round rock, or swimming to the caves.

Ritsa Beach is bigger, has loungers, and is mostly worth it for the great restaurant across the street. At one o’clock, when the lunch shift starts, all the beachgoers cross the street with wet hair to pull up a seat in the yellow-and-green chairs of Elies Restaurant. Under the olive trees you eat fresh Greek dishes with a glass of local wine. A bit of a stretch, maybe, but it has something of Club 55 on the Côte d’Azur, just without the bill or the show. That cozy feeling of everyone sitting there together? It’s got that, for sure. Elies also has a few apartments and studios, so you can stay right there. Small tip for the food: make sure you book ahead.

If anywhere in the village is easygoing, it’s Yioryitsa’s Backyard, strung with red-yellow-blue lights. Here you eat, indeed, in the garden of Yioryitsa’s daughter. The little restaurant is an ode to her mother, said to be the best cook in the village, who according to her daughter always sat gossiping in the garden with her friends. She wanted to hold on to that feeling, and that’s exactly what it’s become. We had a chicken roulade, big white beans baked in tomato sauce, and a crisp salad, with a view of the daughter cooking in the kitchen on the left and her laundry on the line to the right. Iconic.

Aquarella is the place for a cocktail at sunset. The terrace is spacious and always full. I’d personally skip the food here; better to move on to the neighbours at Lela’s Taverna, a village classic.

There are a few little shops in Kardamyli, and Equinox and Riza’s Gift Shop are the nicest. At Equinox you’ll find a mix of affordable art from Athens, a collection of antiques, and a selection of (second-hand) books. At Riza’s Gift Shop you can lose yourself in a collection of little statues, old posters and jewellery, most of it made in Kardamyli or somewhere else on the Peloponnese.

What better way to discover Kardamyli than to spend a day with a local? We went fishing with the spirited Dimitris. Early in the morning we boarded one of the traditional wooden fishing boats in the village’s little harbour with him and his father. In about three hours we hauled in some 700 metres of net. The catch was red snapper, which only passes through two months a year, from May to June, and then disappears again. According to Dimitris, a day without too many stones in the nets is already a good day: getting them out can easily cost you two days, and on top of that the expensive nets can get damaged. He has plenty to tell along the way. About Kardamyli, once the trading port of the region; about how casting the nets depends on the phase of the moon; and about the young people leaving for Athens. He’s the only young fisherman left, just 26. The next one up is around sixty.

Along the way he points to a cluster of stone buildings among the cypresses in the distance: the house of Patrick Leigh Fermor. The famous British writer came to live here in the sixties after writing the best-known book about Mani, and with his wife Joan built a house now considered one of the finest in Greece. It belongs to the Benaki Museum now, and visits are only possible on set mornings and with a ticket you buy online in advance. We weren’t there on the right day and sadly had to give it a miss, but it’s said to be gorgeous inside and out.

In high season, which for the fishermen is winter, Dimitris works ten days a week, he jokes, sometimes at night. His catch goes to a middleman, who sells the fish on to the restaurants. In summer the water is warmer and fewer fish are around, so he fills those months with trips like ours. On days when a storm keeps them ashore, father and son sit knotting new nets by hand.

After beautiful North Mani, you continue south, towards Gerolimenas, where a completely different landscape awaits. Above all, enjoy the drive itself, because the scenery visibly changes along the way. And stop now and then, for instance here:

In the village of Lagkada, By_Babis sits on the main road, a sweet little grocery with fresh honey, fig jam, olive oil and soap. We were helped by the friendly daughter, who let us taste all sorts of honey, after which we stocked up on a few jars.

Limeni is the next good stop, if only to lower yourself out of the sweltering car into the turquoise water. We also had lunch there at fish taverna Kourmas, a lovely spot with a great view.

Ten minutes below Areopoli you’ll find ΦΑΙΔΡΑ Μανιάτικη Γωνιά in Pyrgos Dirou, a little ceramics shop run by an incredibly sweet couple, where everything is thrown and painted by hand.

Gerolimenas

The further you drive towards the tip of Mani, the less there is left. The green of Kardamyli disappears, the olive groves grow scarcer, and eventually everything stops except rock, cactus and sea. This is deep Mani, the part the Greeks mean when they say you haven’t seen the real Mani yet. The villages of little arches and flower boxes give way to tower houses: narrow, tall and bare, with windows so small they look like arrow slits.

By the time you reach Gerolimenas there’s really nothing left. The name means almost nothing to almost anyone, and that’s exactly where most tourists drop off: they don’t come this far south. We did, and that was down to one address: the wonderful, remote Kyrimai hotel. The most luxurious address in this post (in June we paid €270 a night), and the only one where we deliberately did absolutely nothing for a whole day.

Kyrimai is tucked away among the rocks, half in the bay, and it felt like we’d stepped aboard a boat: water all around us, and because everyone settles in to do nothing, you recognise every face. It’s the ultimate place where the accommodation is the holiday. The party starts at breakfast on the terrace in the morning. The rest of the day you don’t really need to leave either, because there are plenty of loungers and relaxing spots, a pool, a bar and a restaurant. You grab your beach towels from the shared wooden cupboard, and they send you off with biodegradable sunscreen.

My favourite spot was the stone jetty jutting into the water, with Fatboy-style loungers we couldn’t get out of. Pool service on demand, a little coffee that turned into a drink come afternoon, and otherwise a whole day of reading books and staring out at the sea. It’s complete peace of mind with really lovely staff. It can be this simple and this good here. Book this hotel!

The food is fine but not very exciting, so for dinner we drove a few times, five to ten minutes further, to Elaía. A small, sweet restaurant up on the mountain with a few tables and a beautiful sunset. There we ate those typical traditional dishes again: Greek salad, lamb chops, meatballs in tomato sauce, and if you’re brave enough there’s also Tsouchti, pasta with olive oil, melted butter, grated mizithra cheese and a fried egg on top. We didn’t dare try that last one ourselves, so please report back if you did.

Other good options in the nearby village of Alika are the Italian restaurant Mataplan (semi-fancy) or the taverna Το Στέκι των Αλίκων, very loosely translated as Alikases’ place, the village restaurant.

As much as we wanted this holiday to last forever, it was sadly time to head back to Athens. We drove back along the beautiful east coast and stopped on the way in the little fortress town of Monemvasia and the lively harbour town of Nafplio.

For anyone brave enough to skip the crowded islands: a wonderful slice of authentic Greece is waiting for you!

The Shortlist:

Mystras

Sleep: Mazarakis Guesthouse

Eat & drink: Chromota Restaurant

Do: Castle, palace and monastery of Mystras

Kardamyli

Sleep: Kalamitsi Hotel, Elies Hotel, Notos Hotel

Eat & drink: Elies Restaurant, Yioryitsa’s Backyard, Aquarella, Lela’s Taverna

Do: Foneas Beach, Ritsa Beach, fishing with the spirited Dimitris, The Leigh Fermor House

Shopping: Equinox. Riza Gift shop

Limeni

Eat & drink: Kourmas

Gerolimenas

Sleep: Kyrimai Hotel

Eat & drink: Elaía, Mataplan, Το Στέκι των Αλίκων

Next up: Athens!

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