Of the islands of my life, Bali is the most unique. It's not altogether clear if Bali exists in secular space and time. Days can zip by or move incredibly slowly. Sometimes an afternoon feels like a week and sometimes a week feels like an afternoon. The air is fragrant, gentle and seductive. But most interestingly, the sky is as large as I've ever seen – almost like you can see the curvature of the earth while standing in one particular spot. When I lived there, in a stone and wood thatched roof house surrounded by gorgeously manicured gardens in a compound surrounded by rice terraces and jungles – adjacent to a stone carving village along roads with no signs and barely recognized names – I would sometimes stand, surrounded by warm, perfumed. air in the middle of the compound and stare up into the expansive night sky seeing all the stars like they were a painting in front of me. I reminded myself to capture these moments because such a thing cannot last forever – no one gets to stay in heaven before their time. Unlike so many memories that are visual or perhaps visual and auditory – my Bali memories contain a complete set of senses because the island touches every sense.
For these very reasons, Bali was the wrong place to go for this juncture in my life. Bali is wonderful for healing. But there is no making a damn decision there. Being outside of space and time living in an alternate reality would never let me see straight – it would just present itself as another choice, a different life – and not one that moves you down a path or direction. Bali is where you go to be, to step out and perhaps to stay safely tucked away.
Patmos is firmly in secular space and time – although it has a spiritual quality. Patmos does have one magic trick – where Bali's sky is expansive, Patmos' water can fill the horizon. It's a hard thing to explain, but if you sit at a home or restaurant that is seaside – particularly if you are not on a beach in a cove, but a little higher up on a hillside, it can feel like the very blue water expands across a panorama, almost surrounding you. In 2019 when Emily and I got Patmos real estate fever for a week or two, we looked at a home for sale on a hillside, near the end of the main harbor cove. The older woman who owned the house was there and showed us the house herself. Patios surrounded the house and she and her guests and friends simply rotated around the house throughout the day based on the position of the sun. While the house itself was nothing special, the reason for her roughly $500,000 price was clear as soon as we stepped onto the back patio – the sea was everywhere. It was standing on a peninsula or the longest pier in the world. The sea was expansive. I discovered the same thing on the patio of the house just next to mine. It was like standing over the sea, the island under me almost forgotten.
Otherwise, Patmos remains part of time and space as we know it. But all the same, with breathtaking views. Weekends are a good time for me to spend with Patmos – driving to other parts of the island, reminding myself what is beyond the Skala area.
In some ways, Patmos is almost two islands. The north and south have size and breadth and each with their own vibe and feel. They quickly become more rural and are each home to gorgeous beaches – and then meet at a narrow point, almost a land bridge – that connects them. Skala, the main town of Patmos is on that narrow strip of land and along with it everything that makes the island function including banks, supermarkets, the port, the post office, police station, coast guard, two schools (elementary and middle-high), attorneys, realtors, architects, bakeries, power plant, cemetery, laundry and of course gyro stands. The traffic circle by the port is literally the junction for all of Patmos. It is easy to imagine how devastating sea level rise could be to Patmos – which might not even be one island anymore unless some kind of adaptation or protection is taken.
On the south segment of the island is Hora – the very old and quiet town up on the hill contains the Monastery of St, John the Divine. And half way down the hill is the Cave of the Apocalypse where St. John wrote Revelations – a vivid manual on how the Apocalypse might work. The monastery itself dates back to 1088 and was built in a castle-like style as a defense against the Seljuk Turks. The town surrounding maintains the whitewashed Greek/Patmian aesthetic but has the narrow paths and vertical feeling of a town more like Grasse, France or the villages of Cinque Terre, Italy. Not surprisingly, with a monastery in the middle of town, Hora stays much quieter and more somber than Skala below it and I think attracts a different kind of resident. Among Patmians, Hora seems to appeal to a more pious bunch. However, among foreigners – particularly expats who own homes there – Hora is a retreat for the cultured and intellectual – or for the occasional celebrity looking to be cloistered – like Julia Roberts. A couple of high-end restaurants and whispers of elegant dinner-parties run through Hora.
But, to quote Shania Twain, "It don't impress me much…" I prefer the vibrancy of Skala and the relaxed feeling of almost any other part of Patmos. That said, for many devout Christians, Hora and the Cave of the Apolcalype are places of pilgrimage and absolutely top attraction for many cruise-ship passengers.
Yesterday, I spent an afternoon touring around Southern Patmos with its vineyards, small organic farms, tall hills and several gorgeous beach coves. Petra beach there is my favorite and I have been hovering, waiting for signs of it reopening with lounge chairs – or at least being warm and windless enough to go enjoy. With its vibrant blue and bathwater still water – Petra feels almost like a swimming pool. The pebbly beach means not getting sandy and the small goat-filled island behind it that is not as swimmable as it appears, adds a charming backdrop. Petra's one downside is that somehow its lounge chair, snack stand and restroom/changing-room concession was awarded to people who charge on the high side and don't make up for it with friendly charm.
There is also the Ktima Petra organic farm-to-table restaurant just down the road – one of my favorites on Patmos. From the incredible produce they use to the indescript "cheese from our farm" in which I delight, despite the fact that – as Emily rightfully has pointed out many times – it's not THAT special, Ktima Petra's traditional Greek food is more alive than other places, while offering some less-common specialties.
Southern Patmos is also home to Grikos – a resort-laden beach area that while very pretty, has never charmed me. Perhaps Nicholas' advice that the island wastewater lets out near Grikos is a part of that…. But beyond these tourist haunts are vineyards, scattered small farms, and tall hills with breathtaking views. The island ends with Psili Amos beach which can only be approached by hiking trail – something I want to try for the first time this trip.
Northern Patmos is much bigger and stretches out broadly to the right as you travel north. With a series of amazing beach coves on its east side each littered with tavernas, cafes and beautiful vacation homes on the surrounding hillsides, North Patmos carries more of the island's tourism. Turquoise, aquamarine and tourmaline waters line its beaches and although I enjoy them all, the beach at Livadi Geranou may well be the prettiest – also with a small island behind it to which you can more easily swim.
Northern Patmos contains a few secrets and hidden gems. Small roads stretch through ravines lined with deeply green family farms. Goats abound. And within minutes of turning off the main road, you feel like you've dropped into an 18th century village with small, modest farm houses, people tending livestock and stone walls marking the property lines. Along Northern Patmos' less revered east coast are windy, pebble beaches – only two of which are setup for tourists and only one of which is "organized", meaning it has beach chairs and restaurants. Given I strongly prefer organized beaches, we have only spent time at Lampi on that side of the island – the only beach here that seems to ever have waves, however small they may be. While not the most stunning of Patmos' beaches, Lampi is cooler on a hot day, less crowded, has good WiFi for working and the taverna on the hill overlooking – with a burly bearded chef always dressed in a sea captains garb – is fantastic.
Compared to Bali's 2,231 square miles in which it can easily take five hours to get from top to bottom of the island, Patmos' 13 square miles means nothing is more than a 20 minute drive – unless it's a place the paved road doesn't quite reach (like Psili Amos and a few other spots). In other words, Patmos is very knowable.
And it's that know-ability that is a great part of the island's charm. With a little time, not only can the island itself become familiar, but so can its people. In the course of Saturday afternoon, not only did I have an extended visit with Southern Patmos, I also learned the story of the lady who runs the bougatsa and pie shop (she's from Thessolaniki, moved to Athens, married her Patmian ex-husband, moved here, had a daughter, got divorced, opened the shop to have her own income and is raising her daughter here because it's so wonderful). She asked after my family and hopes they come back to Patmos too. I met Stelios' wife who was helping at their gelateria/cafe. She explained that most things will be open – and for the full-day after Easter. The family who runs the best gyro and souvlaki restaurant in town re-opened their establishment and I chatted with them while watching how many orders they had to fill despite having been open only two days. The lady with the new French-style bakery gave me a tour of her shop and explained what she was making, why and highlighted her line of homemade, gourmet ice creams sold by the pint. She is a trained pastry chef who wanted to do something different than all the traditional Greek bakeries on the island.
My favorite local encounter of late was Friday in line for the ATM in the town square. Apparently the Alpha Bank closed its Patmos branch leaving behind only an ATM. The National Bank of Greece is now the only bank branch on the island. I had not noticed that an Alpha ATM remained ( I like theirs better), so I got in line for the National Bank of Greece ATM. The man in front of me said something in Greek to which I had to explain I didn't understand. He switched into English and told me how when you make a deposit, the bank takes it quickly. When you want to make a withdrawal, the ATM takes forever. He then launched into a tirade about Alpha Bank leaving Patmos and how hard that makes banking because a lot of people pay bills and handle financial affairs through the bank branches. If you don't bank at National Bank of Greece, you now have to go to another island like Leros or Kos to deal with simple matters. It became his turn to use the ATM and while running his transactions, he continued his tirade in excellent English without taking his gaze or focus off the ATM. Because what is going to happen with the tourist season launches? How will all the tourists and businesses get by with only one bank? Do I see how long it takes at this ATM for him to just pay one bill? And now he needs to do a second transaction to deal with another bill and this whole thing just doesn't make sense…. When he finished he wished me a very nice day and said it was a pleasure to meet me.
What happens next is the best part. From here out, whenever I see that man, he'll wave, say hi or perhaps chat. So will Stelios' wife and the pastry chef. The bougatsa lady and I were already friendly. They will know I'm around and part of the flow of things at least for a time. They will make a place for me in the community. Sure, I will never be one of them. But I will also not be a faceless tourist who is just passing through. There is a spot in Patmian society for me – a sort of in-between status in which I'm welcome and recognized. I'll gain access to information on how things work – learn the latest happenings – become educated in how to be more a part of island life.
So unlike Bali where the air itself welcomes you in, on Patmos it's the people. I knew coming to Patmos would work for this very reason – social connection and interaction without any great social demands or expectations. There are people to know and see yet with all the space I want for me to just be.
