Each one left a smudge of salt on my skin and a memory I didn’t want to rinse off. Yet there’s one place I keep flying back to, almost without thinking, and it’s not the name everyone drops at dinner.
The ferry eased into Naxos at dusk, bleeding orange across the port, and the smell of warm stone and thyme lifted like a curtain. Scooters hiccupped past the bakery, a boy chased a football, and the bus timetable curled in the heat like an old receipt. I slipped into the sea at St George just before dark and felt the day’s grit dissolve from my shoulders. A taverna radio crackled a love song while someone clinked glasses to the one good thing Fridays always promise. *That first swim still plays in my head like a loop.* I didn’t know it then, but I’d just found the island I’d keep folding my summers around. Funny how places choose you.
The island I keep returning to
Here’s the thing about Naxos: it doesn’t perform for you. It’s the biggest of the Cyclades, with potato fields, goats on hillsides and villages that smell of bread at 7 a.m. You’ll see domes and whitewash, sure, but also laundry lines and scuffed steps where kids sit and swap crisps. It’s gentler than the islands that shout. Less rush, more rhythm.
There are more than 200 inhabited Greek islands, and I’ve landed on seven so far — from volcanic moonscapes to car-free harbours. Naxos is where I linger. It has the rock-solid presence of Mount Zas, the sandy ribbon of Agios Prokopios, and the lazy confidence of a place that doesn’t need to try. One afternoon I got lost in Apeiranthos, chatting with a jeweller who paused to feed a stray cat, then sent me off with directions and a lemon. That kind of small generosity settles under your skin.
If you prefer your islands flashy, Naxos might feel too quiet on day one. Give it time. The island’s pleasure comes from layering: a morning coffee by the marina, a noon swim where the sand squeaks, a late bus up to Filoti for grilled lamb and a stroll under plane trees. The famous marble gate, the **Portara**, glows at sunset like someone lit a match inside the stone. It’s not drama. It’s presence. And it builds, day after day, until you realise you’ve stopped checking your phone.
How to make Naxos work for you
Stay close to Chora for your first nights. St George Beach is a safe bet if you like being able to swim before breakfast and wander to dinner in flip-flops. Book a small guesthouse on a side street where bougainvillea drops petals like confetti. Rent a car for one day to climb into the interior: Chalki for kitron, Filoti for coffee and cheese pies, and a slow loop back via Moutsouna, where the sea looks like it’s still thinking things over.
Don’t sprint your days. Pick a beach, then let it keep you. **Plaka Beach** can be glass-flat at 10 a.m., then the wind builds and kite surfers start tracing signatures across the horizon. If you’re hiking Mount Zas, go early, pack more water than you think, and bring a hat. Let’s be honest: nobody really does that every day. Alternate your big efforts with soft ones — museums one hour, naps the next. We’ve all had that moment when holiday ambition turns into a to-do list.
Start playing with micro-routines. Morning bakery run, midday swim, golden-hour wander to the Portara.
“The island is kind if you are,” a taverna owner told me while sliding over a plate of fava with caramelised onion. “You give time, it gives back.”
Build your evening around one anchor: a table you like, a sunset you can walk to, a song you finally Shazam. Then keep notes for next time — because there will be a next time.
- Bus routes extend to Plaka, Agia Anna and Apeiranthos — they’re cheap and punctual.
- Carry cash for village bakeries and the odd beach bar with a card machine on strike.
- Order the potatoes; Naxos grows the good ones.
- Swim shoes help if you wander onto pebbly coves beyond the main sands.
Why it’s not Santorini or Mykonos for me
Santorini is glorious, no argument. But it asks you to queue for its magic, and sometimes to budget for it too. Mykonos is a high-gloss night out with a soundtrack and a late checkout. Naxos feels like the friend whose house you can just turn up at, adrift and sunburned, and find a spare towel and a plate waiting. I go back because it’s the kind of place that doesn’t demand a version of me I can’t sustain.
| Point clé | Détail | Intérêt pour le lecteur |
|---|---|---|
| Where to base | Chora/St George for first-timers; branch out to Plaka or Agia Anna later | Easy swims, easy dinners, low-stress logistics |
| One perfect day | Early dip, bus to Apeiranthos, long lunch, Portara at sunset | A simple template you can repeat or tweak |
| What to taste | Grilled local cheese, island potatoes, kitron liqueur | Flavours that anchor your memories |
FAQ :
- Is Naxos good for families or solo travellers?Both. Beaches are shallow and calm for kids, while solo travellers get safe streets, friendly tavernas and reliable buses.
- How do you get there without losing a day?Fly to Athens, morning ferry to Naxos in around four hours, check in by mid-afternoon, swim before sunset. Or a short hop flight if you find a seat.
- Do you need a car?Not for the whole trip. Use buses for beaches and Chora days, rent a small car for one village-hopping day.
- What’s the best month?Late May, June, and September balance warm seas with softer crowds. July and August bring windy days and higher prices.
- Is it expensive compared with Santorini or Mykonos?Lower, mostly. Rooms, dinners and sunbeds usually come in friendlier. You’ll feel it in your second glass of house white.
