Philhellene photographer Mark Wilman, creator of a successful six-year project and book ‘Discovering The Beauty of the Cyclades’ describes his first trip with Milos.
Mark’s project has been presented by the British Embassy in Greece, the Greek Embassies in Rome and Tel Aviv and the Aquarium of Milan. His evocative photography and writing transport you to the heart of the Cycladic culture, landscapes and colours. And if you want to experience it for yourself, he is available to offer photographic tours. This personal story about Milos is the fourth in a narrative series created by him especially for IN+SIGHTS GREECE that will run over the next few weeks.
Discovering the Beauty of Milos
Too tough on the car, too rough on the tyres, that’s the west of Milos. The sun in my face, I drove at a pace so slow it went on for hours. Lonely but lovely Agkathia bay as far away as it is; twice I was there under the glare, standing where once there were flowers.
It really is a beautiful place and next time I’ll stay for longer. For some reason it’s been a late afternoon arrival both times, and the road does take that much effort.
I finned my way to Sykia cave along from Agios Ioannis, its miniature beach is well out of reach to most of its passersby, and its hole in the roof is natural proof of beauty under the sky. When I got there, people did stare, wondering “No boat?” I stayed for a while offering a smile, but then they were gone, by a mile. The location is simply amazing with its entrance through a rockface into an interior bay that has its own beach, and that skylight view through the hole overhead.
Along the way to Kleftiko, the arch in the sea in the south, the road played a joke so there was no hope of getting to where I’d planned. To the right I steered, then a left appeared which led me back … to the sand.
I didn’t try that one again though it was an enjoyable trip along the coast on an unpaved road that was under construction at the time.
One place I’m enchanted by is this enormous rock with its humpback form separate from Milos by only a few miles. I’ve walked and climbed and crawled through mines there looking for clues from the past; the air was cold, the tracks were old, but bold was I in the dark.
Erimomilos, or Antimilos, is the isle of my dreams for fishing. It’s so far away but maybe one day… Until then I’ll just go on wishing.