When I boarded the overnight ferry headed to Ios, any romantic vision I had had of meeting interesting, young travelers, exchanging stories over tea, and falling asleep with the smell of the Aegean in my hair, quickly was replaced with the harsh reality of a dirty boat crowded with cranky, dirty people. Although cabins are available, most people (and all students) purchase “deck seats.” People literally sleep on every surface of the ship—on all of the floor space and on any available bench, chair, or couch. I did not have a sleeping bag and could only imagine the amount of lice that would crawl in my hair if I slept on the floor, so I stayed awake for the entirety of the 9-hour ride to Ios. (Also, note that it gets very cold and windy at night on the Aegean further eliminating the possibility of sleep.)
We arrived in Ios at 7:00 am, and the beauty of the island’s mountainous landscape alleviated some of my aggravation from the ferry ride. Ios looks like many of the images of Greek islands that are depicted on postcards. The water is bright blue, the sun is brilliant, and the mountains are dotted with villages of white buildings and hundreds of white churches with blue domes. As we walked up the hill to find the van that would take us to our hostel, we saw a group of people drunkenly returning to their hostel after a long night in the town. This was the proper introduction to Ios, where an early night ends at 6:00 am.
We settled into Francesco’s, our hostel, and slept until noon. Then, we headed to the beach, which was beautiful. The water was totally clear, but it was surprisingly chilly.
Our hostel, Francesco’s, was more like a lifestyle than just a place to stay. Every night at 9:00, all the guests of the hostel gather on the terrace (a cobblestone landing with a bar, restaurant, and a magnificent view of the bay) for a “welcome shot.” This was the first of many free shots we would have at Francesco’s. Francesco himself seemed to take delight in offering his guests free shots, and who were we to deny him happiness?
The guests of the hostel were mostly young travelers, some students and some young professionals. The vast majority was Australian, and all were there for the same reason—to take in the sun and the nightlife of Greece’s “party island.” We started meeting people the moment we walked on the terrace. Following the “welcome shot,” all of the people staying at the hostel party on the terrace until 12:30, when everyone heads into town together. The first stop is always Blue Note, a bar owned by Francesco himself (he’s quite the entrepreneurial opportunist!). The town is tiny tiny tiny, so you basically spend the night wandering between the dozen or so bars that saturate the same area. In front of the bars are these men called kamaki’s. In Ios, a kamaki is paid to get drunk, flirt with girls, and lure them into the establishment for which they work. In reality, the kamakis get drunk and flirt with girls. Whether or not the girls go to their bar is a secondary concern.
We spent Friday night hanging out in town. Then we woke up Saturday to head to the beach, where Leslie and I rented kayaks. I was caught off guard by all the topless women, but realized that this sight was only startling to non-Europeans. By the end of the weekend, we Americans, too, would dabble in the pleasures of topless sunbathing.
Saturday night, I turned 21, and it was fantastic. The staff at Francesco’s had everyone sing Happy Birthday to me, and then gave me a shot of something green. I have never tasted kerosene, but I bet it would taste something like this shot. Then, we went out dancing and didn’t come back until 9:00 am to pack for our 10:50 ferry. The weekend was incredibly fun. Aussies sure know how to have a good time. I got a little tan. I will forever think of fondly of Francesco’s as a beautiful place full of adventurous, interesting people.
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