Skliri Beach

Skliri, where the Athenians have their midday drink

Skliri has a problem: it is not the prettiest beach on Agistri. Aponissos wins on the colour of the water. Dragonera on natural shade. Chalikiada on sheer wildness. But Skliri has something the others do not. It has a ritual.

The ritual of the midday aperitif. Athenians have turned it into a compulsory stop on any trip to the island. And when an Athenian turns something into a tradition, you had better pay attention.

We got to Skliri pedalling out from Skala. It is about three kilometres to the west, past Megalochori. The ring road drops you practically at the door. The beach is small. Very small. A little cove of sand and shingle sheltered by a pine-covered hill that shields it from the wind.

The water is crystal clear. It does not have the Caribbean turquoise of Aponissos, but it wins on calm. It is a natural pool of still, shallow water, ideal for floating about with no hurry. The pines on the hill reflect on the surface, creating a hypnotic mosaic of greens and blues.

The beach bar at Skliri is the soul of the place. A simple wooden building with a terrace looking out to sea. They serve drinks, coffees, sandwiches and simple Greek dishes. But the menu is not the point. The moment is.

From one o’clock in the afternoon, Skliri transforms. In come the Athenians who have spent the morning on other beaches. They lean their bikes against the pines. They order their vermouths, their ouzos, their Mythos beers. They sit on the terrace with their feet almost dangling over the water. They chat, they laugh, they raise a glass. The mood is contagiously happy.

We arrived early, around eleven. The beach was empty. Just one elderly Greek man swimming backstroke in the middle of the cove. We settled onto the sunbeds. We read. We swam. We dozed in the sun.

At one, the picture changed. Families with children. Young couples. Groups of friends. Within twenty minutes every table at the beach bar was taken. The music was playing softly. The smell of grilled squid drifted over from the kitchen. We ordered our drinks. We raised a glass. And we understood why the Athenians have made a ritual of this.

Skliri is not the most spectacular beach on Agistri. But it is the one with the most soul. The one that makes you feel you are properly on holiday. The one that reminds you that the best plan in Greece is to have no plan at all. Just a drink, the sea and time to spend.

In the afternoon the beach empties as fast as it filled. The Athenians go back to their hotels, their siestas, their afternoon plans. And Skliri gets its calm back. The sun drops. The pines stretch out their shadows. The sea turns to glass. If you stay until sunset, you will have Skliri to yourself. And that moment, with the taste of the drink still on your tongue and the sun turning the hill gold, is worth more than any picture-postcard beach.