‘Samos, Vathy and Pythagoreio: Exploring the north-eastern Aegean islands of Greece’

After a night in Kusadasi, yet another of Turkey’s modern cities, we have to leave and getting to the ferry — about 400 metres away — has to be done initially in a cab. When we finally get some tickets after an interminable time at the ferry office, we have to fight (almost literally) our way through the passengers of a cruise ship, all going against our direction, that has just docked. It’s a nightmare juggling seven pieces of luggage whilst searching for a small ferry berthed among three huge liners.

Finally we’re on board and off to Samos where we can get a flight back to Athens. Samos is one of the closest islands to Turkey and the boat thrums its way across the waters, rippling in the morning breeze beneath a dun coloured sky.

We trickled in to Samos via Vathy, the port town, along with the drizzle that left puddles on the concrete dock as I dragged most of the luggage to where we knew not. It was in the back of our minds that we could walk to our digs; surely they were somewhere in front of us. No, they weren’t. In fact, they were in another town altogether called Pythagoreio, named after someone who used to live in a triangular world. Interestingly, in spite of his fame, his theorem had a precursor by a few hundred years in the Arab world. Pythagoreio is also the most popular tourist town on Samos.

The friendly cab driver stops at a key viewing point as we wind over the hills to another side of the island. Somewhere around here a man called Aristarchus identified the ‘central fire’ with the Sun, and he correctly hypothesised the other planets in their correct order of distance around the Sun, almost 2,000 years before others took the credit during the Renaissance.

Our arrival at Anthemoessa Villas was hardly greeted by a fanfare; no parade, no fireworks. In fact, we had to hunt around to find anyone. Mama was eventually located near to the pool that was, surprisingly, unfilled, at least not with water anyway.

We were shown to our idyllic room, the balcony doors opening onto a sublime view across the sea to Turkey beyond the spacious bedroom. Apparently we were the first guests for the season and, until 9pm that night, we were treated, though the word might be deemed inappropriate, to the sound of a water truck climbing the rise then dumping its load into the once empty pool over the next 20 minutes about half a dozen times.

We wanted some milk for a cup of tea but Mama said her son would have to go to the shops to get it. We decided to walk to town, about 2 kilometres away, and it was a scenic stroll down a winding road to the sort of town you always imagined the Greek Islands might contain. Set around a small harbour, ringed with cafes, sans tourist buses, you felt this was a place to relax, and relax we did. Gorgeous wooden tourist yachts and colourful bobbing fishing boats, most with a dash of Hellenic blue, graced the waters and their clumps of yellow nets lay beside, awaiting the next foray somewhere beyond the port.

Our recommended cafe was the Olive and it was a good recommendation. An open aspect lets you soak in the atmosphere of the harbour while dining on some of the finest food in Pythagoreio. We manage to handle it okay, prolonging our stay by ordering a dessert, something we haven’t done often this trip, and watch the uniquely coloured feral cats pass by while we wait.

Then it’s the walk back up the hill, past crumbling stone walls, whose history is lost, and long evocative stairways back to the harbour, for an afternoon in the villa and cheap titbits for tea as we watch the sun set and the Turkish coast blend with the night sky. Sadly, en route, there are no remnants of the ancient sacred way that had around 2,000 statues, monuments and temples over its 4.8km length; it has all gone, like much of the visible history of Samos.

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