Sérifos

The island of Sérifos sits in the Aegean Sea, sheltered by poetic partners, Cycladic Islands Kithnos and Sifnos. A beautifully rugged and raw island, Sérifos feels untouched by tourism and comes with slow-time beaches. Those in tune with Greek mythology will remember Sérifos as the place where Perseus, son of Zeus grew up and returned with Medusa’s head, turning his mother’s would-be suitor Polydectes to stone. The legend goes that from this moment, Sérifos also turned from verdant green to barren stone. Today, on this silent, sun-baked isle, it feels like the rocky Sérifos could still set the scene for the ancient Greek tragedy.

Its desolation, however, is its beauty, and part of the appeal of Sérifos is to be away from the crowds, sometimes even alone or perhaps accompanied just by the island’s few locals – be it goats on the barren mountains, villagers in sparsely-inhabited hamlets or perhaps at the island’s landmark, 15th century monastery Taxiarches, which sits, whitewashed and beautiful in the north of Sérifos. Of course, the port Livadi, or hilltop Hora are places where you’ll see the most action, in particular Hora’s pretty square accessed by a jumble of cobbled streets and cradled by an 18^th century church. This is where those in private villas, eco-hotels and residences by the sea, some of which are designed by architect George Zafiriou, come out to play by night, but most come here to enjoy the tranquil seclusion, windswept cliff walks, Aegean views and simple, delicious Greek fare.

On an island of few actual sights to tick off, Sérifos’ relics from its once-thriving iron mining industry in the early 20^th century can be seen in the crumbling charm of the neoclassical mansion in the village of Megalo Livadi which served as the French company’s headquarters. The industry faded away after its iron rush, and demand fell, leaving the island a few remnants of its manufacture and letting the rest of Serifos slip back into sleepy somnolence. Beaches on Sérifos are a surprise. One would assume the rocky cliffs would drop down abruptly to the sea. Not so. Instead, arcs of fine white sand meet aquamarine Aegean Sea, often reached only by a cactus-lined track and very few people. So bring a picnic, cold beers, ripe tomatoes and settle in for the day, week or even more. Here, time slows.