Aegean Adventures - Super Paradise Beach trek in Mykonos

The pier of Hora on Mykonos

I arrived in Mykonos in the midmorning and found an accomodation right off Taxi Square, the pier area of the island’s Hora.

It was a small, easygoing hotel with a safe above the closet, an odd painting of a red lobster eating a plate of fried cheese, a lovely candystriped window covering, and blue shutters.

I wandered the narrow streets of Little Venice familiarizing myself with the jewelry and olive oil soap shops, the name brand retailers and the mousakka sales points. There were many bars and coffee places and when I found one to my liking I nabbed my first espresso of the journey. (I’d been drinking Greek coffee exclusively.)

My trek began with the five most famous residents of Mykonos, the iconic windmills, perched on top orange rock and brush just south of Little Venice. I followed the street beside them past shops and a bus turnaround toward the beaches.

While it is tempting to load up on food and water ahead of the 5.5km trek, I would recommend holding off until one sees the fresh fruit sign - indicating bakeries, a vegetable shop, and an organic food outlet within close proximity to one another.

Though much of the produce is shot up with water here, some very fresh small apples were available. They made my day.

Of the hikes I’ve made on the Greek islands thusfar, the road to Super Paradise was the least spectacular. I suspect, made with friends with a similar beachgoing mindset in season it would be more convivial and exciting.

There are plenty of dovecotes to distract the imagination. There is little subsistance farming to provide pickable wild fruit. The only shops, architecture, or culture of any kind is beachside, limited to alcohol consumption and life sustaining activities.

“Super P”, has blanket-to-blanket visitors during the high season. When I approached it, the crowd had thinned to about a dozen. It was lovely having the wide expanse of golden sand and indigo water largely to myself.

At the beach, I stripped and dove into the sea. I flirted with a man past the last bouy, but he ignored me and went back to shore.

Shortly after, I struck up a conversation with two other naked men from Florence, Italy, and we discussed the before and after of Mykonos. They informed me that their first journey to the beach had been made by boat in 1983, before the tourist infrastructure made driving to the area possible.

We compared notes on the different islands and I resolved to make Delos a stop on my next visit.