The Mysteries Of Patmos

While work and cold winds have kept me at home more than I would prefer, my brief outings around Skala (the main town of Patmos) have left me curious. For the off-season, there are a lot more people than I expected. Patmos has a resident population of just under 3,000 people (up from closer to 2000 when Emily and I first came here in 2010). But the amount of activity and commerce suggests more than a 3,000 person economy.

Patmos is first and foremost an island of mystery. Many things happen on Patmos that are not fully explicable – even by the most informed locals. For example, people we have met have spoken of amazing parties – which to my eyes have been completely invisible and inaudible in each of my three past visits. Kristopher the Barber has been about 28 since we came in 2010. By my last count there are at least six bakeries in Skala, and I think I just noticed a seventh today – and those do not include all the many cafes and shops that also sell various Greek pies (spinach, cheese, etc), the large amounts of bread used in restaurants, and bread sold in each of the grocery stores (there is one major one, but several smaller local-owned shops). In the summer, it made some sense that this many bakeries could be supported from tourism – but at this time of year? How are 3,000 people eating this much bread everyday?

One thing that's clear is that Patmos – and perhaps Greece as a whole – rejects economics. Patmos had two full-service laundries in 2010. It now has only one (the other guy – who Emily and I had some issues with – left in the middle of the night a few years ago in some amount of scandal, never to be seen again). How did an island with less tourism and fewer vacation homes in 2010 support two full-service laundries whereas today, it supports only one which now processes almost all the hospitality laundry and linens, plus that of some residents and tourists? Yet, in addition to at least three grocery stores and the produce truck by the port that purportedly has the best produce, there are three produce shops that all remain open. Are 3,000 people using five shops and a truck's worth of produce?

In some cases, there appear to be businesses that stay open without having many customers. I've seen several cafes and restaurants that host 2-5 people at most at any given time. My guess is that these places make all their money in the summer and then remain open as more of a lifestyle thing. Owners and their friends sit around and drink coffee and have snacks. Today, I am writing from the Marina Cafe which has always been a locals hangout – which is why it's open and perhaps why it's blasting hits from the 70's and 80's. There was one customer when I walked in – a man who clearly does something related to boats. When the owner came over to my table I asked for a menu. She was surprised, but accommodating. After I reviewed and asked if she had two of the items that interested me, she said, "Oh, you want food!" and became a little nervous. Luckily she had one of the things I wanted – gigante beans – and then suggested the tuna salad that she had just made "fresh". That was fine – no need to press for the shockingly missing tzatziki I had wanted (what Greek establishment runs out of tzatziki?!) I think I was supposed to just want espresso drinks or beer – which is all that Petrino, the main cafe in the town square was offering today.

Still, my best guess is that Patmos is not completely down to only its core 3,000. There are public works projects in progress – new water and sewer lines being laid.  I've noticed a number of longshoremen frequenting some of the shops and certainly the main supermarket. Patmos also must have a number of overnight or two-day guests of truck drivers who bring supplies with the ferry, but must stay until the next ferry comes through – and ferries do not run daily at this time of year. A few couples and families seem like they might be off-season Greek tourists. It's also possible some are Athenians who like so many Americans have decided to escape city-life during COVID and work somewhere nicer. I have heard few people speaking languages other than Greek – but those that do might be like me – people staying on Patmos because they can – perhaps digital nomads. It's impossible to know, although I'm sure when I see Nicholas who owns the studios Emily and I once stayed in, he'll offer me more in a very colorful way.

In general, this seems to be the time that Patmos is doing all the work needed before tourists arrive. Construction projects – new homes being finished, renovations on older buildings. There are tons of trucks moving the island – sometimes going to beaches and places you would never expect to see a truck during the summer. I've gasped a few times wondering if some of these large trucks can clear certain turns or stay within the narrow roads. When my little Fiat Panda fills the road, those are narrow conditions.

What's nice is that whoever these extra people are, they're keeping Patmos in business and that means more open businesses for me to enjoy. Even the organic market is open sometimes, although I can't figure out what their hours are – or if there even are regular hours. It's also nice for Patmian business owners who are at least making something in the down season.

What's even nicer is that the island feels just as I expected. It's airy, free and relaxed (not that it's ever uptight). There are fewer people and tons of space. The cool air, the green hills and the very blue water are everything I imagined. And Patmos in the morning is quiet and gentle. At night it's sleepy and calm. Its nights are not the warm inviting ones where people dine late and sit at outdoor restaurants at all hours – or get their gelato and walk around at 11 at night. I love those nights – but that's not what I want right now.

There is something about Patmos right now that feels like the "true Patmos" the one Patmians probably consider normal – the Patmos "behind the curtains" that exists out of sight for the great majority of the year. It's the Patmos I suspected was here when I wasn't. What's wonderful is that Patmians seem happy to share it. I have not been made to feel out of place, though some are clearly surprised that a foreigner is here. In fact, most people just start speaking to me in Greek – which is kind of fun. It's nice to feel like I don't stand out.

Tomorrow the bone-chilling winds are supposed to go back to wherever they came and the temperature should return to classic Patmos Spring  - the lower 60's. With the sun shining down on everything – albeit a shorter light than summer – and the water sparkling, I think I can make use of this Patmos. I can sit by the beaches in sweatshirts to work and write. I can sit at cafes when they're open (more are supposed to open in April and yet more in May) and I can take long walks. I can even enjoy the table right in front of my apartment where the view over the island and water is as good as anywhere else – maybe while I enjoy the homemade frappucinos I'm bent on perfecting. And maybe while I'm walking around or chatting with the locals, at least some of Patmos' mysteries will be revealed. Maybe they'll let me inside the fold a little….