When I got off the ferry at Hydra and my first thought was: ‘well I thought it would be prettier than this’ that was the moment when I realised the only thing stopping me from being a spoilt brat is that I’m probably too old to be described as a brat. But, you know, Hydra just didn’t do it for me in the way that I expected it to. Granted it’s all very pretty and remarkably well looked after but it ends up feeling like Disney took over a Greek island and substituted donkeys for Mickey and Minnie.
One of the big selling points of Hydra is that there’s no motorised transport on the island which, in theory, sounds fab. Instead, what you have is hundreds of slow-moving people who haven’t yet caught onto the idea that when they want to stop and go, ‘oooh, Fred, look it’s a donkey’ they ought to check the bottle-neck they’re likely to cause behind them. Those narrow alleys sure are pretty but they might want to choose a spot where the 2000 people behind them can get past. And honestly, believe me, this is not the only donkey that anyone’s going to see on Hydra.
Hydra’s certainly worth a vist but I’m not sure that I’d want to base myself there for too long. This probably marks me down as lacking in style and taste, but you knew that anyway. Far better to go onto Spetses or stay on Poros.
And my latest piece of Eurotrash pretentiousness: explaining to a friend that the best Periptero for the international press was next to the Konditorei.