Zakynthos: So Much More Than a Party Island

After months of working myself up into a tight ball of stress, I was lucky enough to be able to book a last minute week off on the Greek island of Zakynthos (Zante), leaving later that night.

My husband saw me off with truly magnanimous well-wishes. Knowing that I am so free to go, makes me more freely return.

I chose my destination by searching flights to ‘everywhere’ on Skyscanner, looking for something cheap. And cheap it was; with flights, island transport, accommodation, food and activities, my trip cost me just £400.

To be honest, I was a little apprehensive about travelling alone – it had been years since I had done so. But this feeling rapidly abated. It was impossible to feel lonely in such paradise and while meeting so many lovely locals.

From the moment I landed on the island time just stopped. I can’t remember the last time I felt so truly relaxed.

My spirits immediately lifted finding the air so warm and the sun beautifully bright. The water was the perfect temperature for me, yet I could still cope with hiking in the mountains, which I suspect would be impossible in the height of summer.

Standing amid church ruins on the side of Mount Skopos

Nothing could have kept me out of the sea. The water was so blue and clearer than a swimming pool. The surface was perfectly calm; reflecting patterns of light to great depths. Its clarity masked that the water was deceptively deep, being over my head within a few steps of the shore in most places. With high salt content, you could float on your back for hours, enjoying the ever-so-gentle pull of the tides. Swimming by moonlight, I could still see my feet through the water.

Admittedly, I did notice that most other tourists didn’t swim. It is unclear whether this was because it was too cold, or simply the result of an imported British custom that beaches are purely for the holiday priority of getting ‘tanned,’ aka lobster red.

What we could all agree on was the wonderful food, with a leisurely three-course dinner and a jug of wine costing around €20.

Dinner with a view in Keri, starting with a basket of warm bread and a large bottle of water for €1.50

Turning up early to my first accommodation in Keri, I found my elderly bowed hostess didn’t speak a word of English. We fumbled by and I was shown to my room. It was basic, as was expected for the £40 charge for three nights, but had a gorgeous view from the balcony.

What was unexpected was the constant flow of gifts she left me. From home-grown wine and oranges already in the room, to pastries outside my door in the morning. Then full meals starting turning up. I’m not sure if she took pity on me travelling alone, or if she is like this to everyone, but it certainly wasn’t covered in the room tariff.

Despite the scarcity of custom, all the restaurants and little shops seemed to stay open as long as their owners were awake. Sitting behind the counter with an iPad, or outside with friends playing cards, they would still jump up to serve anything you wanted even after 10pm with no-one else in the restaurant.

I wondered what the people do through the winter, when even this trickle of tourists dries up. Olives, grapes and hunting seemed to be the consensus. The home-grown wine sold in what looked like cordial bottles stood testament to this. A friendly young waiter tells me that it becomes a “village of old men”; with the young flocking to the busier Zante Town.

The electric blue waters off the west coast of Zakynthos

Spontaneously hiring a car cost me just €30 and was a must-do to get to the boat trips of the north. Driving up the deserted west coast, I was able to enjoy the winding roads, passing only a car or two.

On a little boat tour here the water was so impossibly blue, I suspected it must have been dyed. Dipping in and out of caves and secluded beaches I never wanted to leave.

Arriving at my second location, near Porto Zorro (Vasilikos) I felt a rare moment of worry; I had been dropped by the bus alongside a deserted beach bar mid-renovation.

Thankfully I found my hotel open (I was only their second customer of the season) and soon learned that once again nearly everything else was open too.

I was greatly helped out by a British worker Marius, who had moved here for a quiet life after losing everything, including his business and wife years ago. He gave me lifts and plenty of advice.

The deserted Porto Zorro in the middle of being set up for the summer

When I reluctantly dragged myself home, I found out that everyone seemed to know Zakynthos as a party island.

It is hard to reconcile the peaceful paradise I found in May, with the tourist hot spot I know it must become during peak season.

Admittedly I did see a hint of this possibility in Argassi. Walking off the mountain I wandered past restaurant after restaurant with English advertising, most deserted, just waiting for the floods of tourists to come.

I wondered how crowds fit on the slim stone beaches in summer, until I saw the most popular – Banana Beach. I saw more tourists here than anywhere else, on the widest stretch of sand on the island. But the trade-off seemed to be a less scenic environment and much less appealing water, clouded by the sand.

Away from this short stretch of the east coast there is still plenty that feels ‘untouched’ and oh so Greek. The hills teem with wildlife as you walk amidst abandoned monasteries and at the time I went it was easy to find myself a private beach to enjoy the soft sunsets over a misty sea.

Watching the sun set at Keri Lighthouse

My helpful Marius pondered that beyond good health and a backpack “how much do you really need?” On a break far away from the worries of my reality, it was easy to understand that the answer is ‘very little.’ If only I could bring that knowledge back with me, but it dimmed and began to evaporate in the wake of my returning aeroplane.