Where is Salamis?
Salamis is the largest island in the Saronic Gulf, about ninety-five square kilometres, and by a wide margin the closest to Athens. It sits tucked into the north-west corner of the gulf, so near the mainland that it barely reads as an island at all: the channel separating it from the industrial coast of Attica is a narrow strip of water, and the island effectively closes off the bay of Eleusis behind it. That channel is the reason anyone has heard of the place. It is the strait where the Greek fleet fought the Persians in 480 BC, and the geography that made the battle work is still exactly as it was, which is the one genuinely remarkable thing about standing here. With around thirty-six thousand residents, Salamis is also the most populated island in the group, and it functions as an outer suburb of the capital rather than a destination. Its eastern side carries shipyards, dry docks and naval installations. The west is different: low pine hills, smaller settlements, and a coast that faces the open Saronic instead of the industrial gulf. Aegina and Agistri lie south-east across the water, but they belong to a different sort of holiday entirely.
Getting there
Nowhere in Greece is easier to reach, and no island journey involves less planning. Salamis is served by a car ferry that shuttles back and forth across the strait more or less continuously, so there is no timetable to work around and no ticket to book in advance. You go to the mainland quay, you get on the next boat, you are across in minutes. The complication, such as it is, sits entirely on the Athens side. Getting from the centre of the city out to the ferry quay takes longer than the sea crossing does, and the route runs through some fairly grim industrial suburbs. Budget your time for that leg rather than for the water. This is a day trip. Almost nobody stays overnight, and the ferry running late into the night means almost nobody needs to.
By ferry
The crossing you want is Perama to Paloukia. Perama sits on the western edge of the Piraeus conurbation, and the ferries across to Paloukia on Salamis run so frequently through the day that the service is effectively continuous: you turn up, you wait a few minutes, you board. The passage is well under half an hour and often feels shorter than that. The boats take cars, motorbikes and foot passengers alike, and tickets are bought at the quay, not online. The water you cross on this ferry is the battlefield. It is worth sitting outside for the few minutes it takes, because the whole point of the 480 BC fight was how narrow this channel is, and the crossing shows you that better than any museum could. Getting to Perama itself is the fiddly part: bus, or metro then bus, or a taxi. Allow well over the crossing time for it. There is a second, much less used crossing from Megara at the western end of the gulf, which lands on the north-west of the island. It is useful only if you are already out that way on the mainland; for anyone coming from Athens, Perama is the answer.
By plane
Salamis has no airport, and sitting where it does it would make no sense for it to have one. Athens International (ATH) is the gateway, on the far eastern side of the city. From there you cross Athens to reach Perama for the ferry, which realistically means metro plus bus, or a taxi if you are carrying luggage and short on patience. It is not a difficult journey, but it is a long way across a large city, so treat the airport-to-quay leg as the substantial part of the trip.
Other options
Local buses run from the ferry terminal at Paloukia towards Salamina town and out to the western villages, and they are perfectly usable for the main settlements. The service thins out noticeably in the evenings and at weekends, however, which is worth knowing before you plan a late return from the far side of the island. If you want the west coast, the beaches at Kanakia or Peristeria, or the monastery in the north-west, a car or a scooter makes the day far more practical. Since the ferry takes vehicles as a matter of course, bringing your own car over is straightforward and is what most Athenian visitors do. Taxis wait at Paloukia and are a reasonable fallback for a single trip across the island.
What to see
There is one reason to come here and it is a stretch of water. The strait between Salamis and the Attic mainland is where the Greek fleet broke the Persians in 480 BC, and the geography that made the battle work has not moved: you cross the battlefield on the ferry, and standing on the eastern shore looking back is the whole experience. Be warned that there is no visitor centre and next to no signage, so it rewards reading beforehand rather than turning up and hoping. Around that, the island offers the old settlement at Ampelakia where the Greek fleet most likely anchored, a small archaeological museum that takes half an hour, and a seventeenth-century monastery in the northwest whose painted interior is the best single sight here. One day covers it comfortably.
Beaches
Let us be straightforward: the beaches are not the reason to come to Salamis, and anyone choosing this island for a swimming holiday has made a mistake. The eastern side, where the ferry lands, is industrial. Paloukia is a naval base and ferry terminal, the coast around it carries shipyards, dry docks and hulls under repair, and it is not water you get into. The west coast is a genuinely different island: low pine hills and a shore facing the open Saronic instead of the industrial gulf. Kanakia in the southwest is the best of it, sand backed by pine, and Peristeria further north is quieter. Neither would draw a second glance in the Cyclades. Both are fine for a swim on a weekday in June, and both fill with Athenian families at weekends. You will want a car or scooter to reach either.
What to do
Be clear about what this is. Salamis is a working commuter island with shipyards, traffic and supermarkets, not a beach holiday, and the reason to come is the water you crossed to get here. The main thing to do is the battle: stand on the eastern shore, look back at the mainland, and take in how narrow the strait is. There is no visitor centre and next to no signage, so it rewards a bit of reading beforehand. Add the old settlement at Ampelakia, the small archaeological museum in town, and the seventeenth-century monastery in the north-west with its remarkable painted interior, which is the best single sight on the island. On the west coast there are a couple of decent pine-backed beaches, fine for a swim on a weekday, packed with Athenian families at the weekend. You will be bored here if you want whitewashed lanes and a fishing harbour. Salamis is a suburb with a coastline and some very important history. One day is right, two is a stretch.
Where to stay
The honest advice is not to stay at all. Salamis is a day trip: the ferry from Perama runs constantly and late into the night, almost nobody stays over, and almost nobody needs to. This is a commuter island of thirty-six thousand people with shipyards, traffic and supermarkets, and the accommodation reflects that, thin on the ground and aimed at people here for work rather than a holiday. If you do have a reason to stay, the western side is the only part that makes sense, near the smaller settlements and the pine-backed coast, well away from the industrial east where you land. Salamina town is the practical base for buses and shops but has nothing resembling a resort atmosphere. Bear in mind that local bus services thin out considerably in the evenings and at weekends, so a car changes the calculation entirely.
Let us be clear from the first line, because it will save some readers a wasted day: Salamis is not a holiday island. It has around thirty-six thousand residents, shipyards and naval installations along its eastern shore, traffic jams on a Friday evening, supermarkets, driving schools and municipal parking problems. Nobody comes here to lie on a beach for a week.
What Salamis has instead is the most consequential stretch of water in Greek history, and a ferry crossing so short that you can be standing beside it an hour after leaving central Athens.
The battle, and where it actually happened
In 480 BC the Persian army under Xerxes had already burned Athens. The city had been evacuated, largely to Salamis itself, and the Greek fleet was drawn up in the channel between the island and the mainland. The Athenian commander Themistocles, by most ancient accounts, engineered the fight to happen there rather than in open water: in the narrow straits the far larger Persian fleet could not use its numbers, and the ships fouled each other while the Greek triremes worked them over. Xerxes is said to have watched from the mainland slopes. The Persian fleet was broken, the invasion lost its momentum, and the shape of the next two centuries of Greek history changed in an afternoon.
The useful thing for a visitor is that the geography has not moved. The straits are the channel you cross on the ferry from Perama, and they are genuinely narrow: a strip of water with the island on one side and the industrial edge of Attica on the other. Standing on the Salamis shore looking back at the mainland, you are looking at the battlefield. That is the whole experience, and it is either enough for you or it is not. We have written up how to do it properly as a self-guided day following the battle, including the honest warning that there is no visitor centre and almost nothing in the way of signage.
Most historians place the main Greek anchorage in the bay below Palaia Salamina, the old settlement at Ampelakia, on the east side of the island. It is the closest thing Salamis has to a historic quarter, and it is also where the modern archaeology of the battle has been most active in recent years.
Getting there is the easy part
There is no comparison anywhere else in the Saronic. Ferries run from Perama, on the western edge of the Piraeus conurbation, to Paloukia on Salamis. The crossing is well under half an hour and the boats go constantly through the day, so frequently that you do not plan around a timetable, you simply turn up. They take cars. There is also a second, less used crossing from Megara at the western end.
Getting to Perama from central Athens is the fiddly bit rather than the sea passage: it is a bus or metro plus bus combination, or a taxi, through some fairly grim industrial suburbs. Budget more time for that leg than for the ferry itself. Once on the island there are local buses from Paloukia towards Salamina town and the western villages, though the service thins out considerably in the evenings and at weekends, and a car or scooter makes the west coast far more practical.
Two very different halves
The eastern side, where you land, is the working island. Paloukia is a naval base and a ferry terminal, the coast north and south of it carries shipyards, dry docks and hulls in various states of repair, and the water is not somewhere you swim. This is not a failure of the island, it is what the island is. There is something genuinely interesting about seeing a Greek island that functions as a place where people build and mend ships rather than one that rearranged itself for visitors.
Cross to the west and it changes. The land rises into low pine-covered hills, the settlements get smaller, and the coast opens onto the Saronic proper instead of the industrial gulf. Kanakia on the southwest is the best beach on the island, sand backed by pine, and Peristeria further north is quieter. Neither would draw a second glance in the Cyclades. Both are perfectly good places to swim on a Tuesday in June, and both fill up with Athenian families at weekends.
The main cultural site is Faneromeni Monastery in the northwest, a seventeenth-century foundation with a remarkable painted interior. If you visit one thing on Salamis that is not the water, make it that. The small Archaeological Museum in Salamina town rounds out the picture in about half an hour.
Who it is for, and who should skip it
Come if you are interested in the battle and want to stand where it happened. Come if you are based in Athens, have a spare day, and would rather see a real working island than queue for a hydrofoil to somewhere prettier. Come if you like places that have not been tidied up for you.
Skip it if you want the classic Greek island holiday. Skip it if you are choosing one Saronic island and only one: Hydra, Aegina and Poros will all give you more. Skip it if your mental image involves whitewashed lanes and a harbour of fishing boats, because Salamis will feel like a suburb with a coastline, which is more or less what it is.
One day is the right amount of time. Two is a stretch.