Paros: The Other Half of Greece

Ever since I started traveling to Europe with my kids, I’ve had a habit of splitting our trips roughly 50-50: an iconic European city followed by someplace coastal where the kids can get some beach time.

For a lot of American families with kids, the default vacation is the beach. There are built-in activities, no need for a strict itinerary and most days involve little more than alternating between the beach and the pool until it’s time for dinner. If you’re feeling adventurous, maybe you graduate to the Caribbean or Hawaii, depending on which coast you live on.

I was no different.

Even when I decided we were ready to make the leap across the Atlantic, the idea that kids’ vacation = beach was pretty well ingrained in all of us. So I came up with a compromise.

We spend the first three or four days walking 20,000 steps a day through some great historic city, following one of my carefully crafted itineraries from morning until night. Then, we head to the beach for a little well-earned R&R.

I still make plans for us. I am still me. But the pace changes. There are slower mornings and lazy afternoons, and I always leave plenty of room for doing absolutely nothing by the pool.

For this trip, we started in the incredible Greek capital, which I wrote all about separately, and then boarded a ferry for the three-hour ride to the Cycladic island of Paros.

The Other Half

First, the ferry.

I had prepared myself for some kind of seasick horror show on the trip from Piraeus to Paros. Social media is full of stories about awful Greek ferry rides, so I sprang for first-class tickets thinking that, at the very least, we could be miserable in slightly more comfortable surroundings.

Turns out, none of that was necessary.

Our Blue Star ferry ride was smooth, scenic and actually part of the adventure. A couple of coffees later, we were pulling into the port at Parikia.

We stayed at Avant Mar in Naoussa, a short drive from the port. As we made our way across the island, I started seeing exactly what I had pictured when I imagined the Greek islands—whitewashed houses scattered across rolling hills, dry golden grasses and scrubby Mediterranean brush covering the landscape, and the occasional tiny white church with a blue dome sitting all alone on a hillside.

Phenomenal.

Avant Mar was in a nearly perfect location, just outside central Naoussa on Piperi Beach but still an easy walk into town. It had two restaurants, two pools, a spa, room service, beautiful landscaping and the cutest little flower-filled, shaded reading nook that I spent some time in.

After four days of Athens, it was exactly where I wanted to be.

We spent our first afternoon in Paros doing exactly what we had come there to do: reading magazines and listening to music by the pool.

Eventually, we pulled ourselves away and wandered into Naoussa for a little shopping and dinner. This was the Greek-island town I had imagined—narrow cobblestone lanes winding between whitewashed buildings, bright bougainvillea spilling over walls and tiny shops tucked into every alley.

And the shopping was good. Really good. In fact, my favorite shopping of the entire Greece trip was in Naoussa.

We eventually tucked into Safran for an excellent seafood dinner before wandering back to the hotel and calling it a night. Naoussa starts partying at about the same time I go to bed these days, but because our hotel was just outside the center of town, I had no trouble catching up on my beauty sleep.

Birthday Rules

The next day happened to be my birthday. So, naturally, everyone had to do whatever I wanted all day.

And despite waking up on a Greek island with a beach right outside our hotel, what I wanted was a little adventure.

Our rental car had been dropped off at the hotel the evening before, so we hopped in and headed inland to Lefkes, a beautiful village tucked into the hills of Paros.

Lefkes has the same whitewashed buildings and narrow lanes you find in the island’s coastal towns, but the setting feels completely different. Instead of marinas and sea views, there are mountains and valleys, traditional homes climbing the hillside and sweeping views across the island.

It was also only about a 20-minute drive from Naoussa.

If you’re nervous about renting a car and driving in Paros, I was too. This was actually my first time renting a car in Europe, and it turned out to be surprisingly easy. The roads were well marked, there were gas stations around the island and we never felt particularly isolated. From picking up the car to returning it, the whole experience was much easier than I had built it up to be in my head.

We spent about four hours exploring Lefkes that morning, starting at the beautiful 19th-century Church of the Holy Trinity. The church itself is worth seeing, but walk around back and you’ll find something I wasn’t expecting, a cemetery cascading down the hillside behind it.

We wandered around the grounds for a while, looking at the graves, taking in the views and enjoying the breeze.

Which was important, because it was hot.

We grabbed iced coffees from a little shop near the church and set off through Lefkes’ maze of narrow, car-free lanes. Somewhere in the middle of them is one of those places that social media has turned into a destination of its own: a huge burst of bright pink bougainvillea against stark white buildings, creating just about the most stereotypically Greek-island photo imaginable.

Of course we took the picture.

You can find the exact location by searching “Paros Flower Photo Spot” on Apple Maps.

From there, we spent another hour or so wandering in and out of Lefkes’ art, jewelry and souvenir shops before stopping for gelato with a view over the surrounding hills.

Then it was back to Naoussa and, because this was still supposed to be the relaxing half of our Greece trip, back to the pool.

That evening, we didn’t have to go far for my birthday dinner. We ate at the hotel’s Matsuhisa restaurant, where we had an excellent sushi dinner.

It was also an expensive sushi dinner.

But it was my birthday. Some things are worth the splurge.

Coffee First, Then the Aegean

I wake up early. There are no exceptions when I’m on vacation.

It’s actually one of my favorite times of day. It’s quiet. No one is demanding anything from me yet. And when I’m traveling, I love getting out for a walk while wherever I am slowly wakes up around me.

In Paros, that meant walking down to the marina each morning. The boats were still bobbing quietly in the harbor, restaurateurs were setting up their patios and shopkeepers were just beginning to open their doors.

And every morning, I stopped at Ragoussis Bakery.

Ragoussis was one of the few places already open in late-waking Naoussa, and it had great coffee and cases filled with pastries and baked goods. It quickly became my little morning ritual—stop for a coffee, then wander along the water with nowhere in particular to be.

Day three started exactly that way.

Later that morning, we headed out for what feels like a pretty essential Greek-island activity: a boat day.

We booked a half-day trip—about four hours—that left directly from the port in Naoussa, making it incredibly easy from our hotel. There were unlimited snacks and drinks onboard and three swimming stops in the waters around Paros.

Every stop was beautiful. The water was that deep blue you picture when you think of the Greek islands, and at each one we could jump off the boat and swim.

But my favorite stop had something extra.

Just offshore from Naoussa, on a tiny rocky islet, sits Agia Kali, one of those little whitewashed churches with a blue dome that seem to appear in the most unlikely places all over Paros. Our boat anchored near the shore, and we jumped to the shore and walked up to see it.

There we were, standing beside a tiny white church on a nearly empty island in the middle of the Aegean Sea.

Sometimes Greece really does look exactly like you hope it will.

Paros is made for a boat day.

I Wanted to Touch It

On our fourth and final day in Paros, we had what would become my favorite experience of the entire trip.

That morning, we drove out to Paros Park. I was expecting more of the incredible scenery we’d already seen all over the island.

I got so much more than that.

We left the car in a small parking lot and started along one of the park’s well-marked hiking trails. After about 20 minutes, we reached the top of a ridge.

And then I saw it.

In the distance, a solitary white lighthouse sat on a rocky point at the very edge of the island. Between us and the lighthouse, a narrow trail traced its way across the dry, windswept landscape, surrounded on nearly every side by deep blue Aegean water crashing against the rocks below.

It was one of the most spectacular views I had ever seen.

Standing there, though, we had no idea how far away the lighthouse actually was. Some days, I probably would have been perfectly happy to admire it from where we stood, take a few pictures and turn around.

But that morning, on that island, at the end of my Greek vacation, I wanted to go touch it.

So we did.

It turned out to be only about another 20-minute walk. We followed the dusty trail through low, scrubby brush, with the sea stretching out around us and the lighthouse slowly getting closer.

When we finally reached Korakas Cape Lighthouse, built in 1887, we walked around it and took in the views from every direction. I took a few pictures, including one with my hand pressed against the white stone wall—as if I needed proof that I had actually made it all the way out there.

I could have taken a hundred more.

Instead, I sat down on the lighthouse steps.

And for a few minutes, I just sat there.

Every once in a while when I travel, I have a moment when it all catches up with me. I stop thinking about where we’re going next or what time we need to leave or whether everyone has eaten. I stop taking pictures. I stop planning.

I just realize where I am.

That morning, I was sitting at the edge of a tiny Greek island, halfway around the world from home, looking out at the Aegean Sea. And I felt overwhelmingly grateful that this was my life—that I had gotten my family here and that I had the chance to see something so beautiful.

So I sat on those steps for a while.

I might have shed a tear.

Then eventually I got up, put my travel-planner brain back on and started walking back down the trail.

One Last Afternoon

After that, there wasn’t much left to do.

Which was kind of the point.

We spent the rest of our final day in Greece lounging by the pool under the Mediterranean sun. I read my Condé Nast Traveler magazine and started dreaming about where I might go next.

Later, I made one final stop at Ragoussis for a coffee and a spinach pie and took it back to the hotel. I sat on my balcony for a while, thinking about the trip we’d just had.

Four days of Athens. Four days of Paros.

One half was ancient ruins, crowded streets, carefully planned days and 20,000 steps. The other was morning coffees, boat rides, beaches, long afternoons by the pool—and one hike to a lighthouse I know I’ll remember for a very long time.

Turns out, I like Greece both ways.

Tomorrow, it would be back to reality.

But for one more afternoon, I was still in Paros.