There’s something truly special about the Greek islands. The first thing that comes to mind is the crystal-clear water, where you can see several meters down.
Next, I think of octopuses and fish hanging to dry in the harbors, while fishing boats are being cleaned or perhaps getting a fresh coat of paint – and then there’s island hopping! Island hopping, where you travel from one island to the next, experiencing the islands and the sea in a delightful mix of Greek atmosphere and summer adventures that keep you warm all the way through winter.
We’ve traveled in Greece several times. The first time I visited was during a summer when we felt a strong urge to escape everything, embrace a sense of freedom, and experience Greece in what we believed to be the very best way – by flying into the country and then traveling between the islands.
Island Hopping in Greece
Our journey began in Athens, from where we flew directly to Lesbos, and then on to Santorini. From Santorini, we took the ferry to Naxos, and finally, we sailed from Naxos to Piraeus – the port city you arrive in when traveling to Athens by sea.
We were away for three weeks, and to make the most of our time, we flew in the beginning. There are around 6,000 Greek islands, only a few hundred of which are inhabited, and the distances between them can be quite large. However, we soon felt that something was missing – the sea that connects the islands wasn’t really part of our journey. So we ditched the flights and chose to hop on the ferries instead.
Sailing between the islands is something we’ve never regretted – not even for a second. Especially the trip from Naxos to Piraeus. That route was a true adventure. It was a long journey, and along the way, we experienced the atmosphere of the harbors each time the ferry docked at an island to pick up passengers and cargo.
One of the best things about sailing is that moment when the ferry pulls away and the harbor you’re leaving slowly disappears behind you. Ahead lie the adventures, and beneath you, vast oceans teeming with fish, octopuses, crabs – and maybe even sharks and whales.
It’s hard not to enjoy the view from the deck when you’re sailing among islands, like we did here in the Greek archipelago. Each island we passed had its own unique charm, and we also saw fishermen out in their boats, catching the day’s fish. Experiencing Greece feels even more complete when you get a glimpse of life on the sea. Especially the small Greek wooden boats – they’re simply impossible to resist.
Sailing in the Greek archipelago almost always means sunshine and warm winds. If the sun gets too intense or the wind picks up, most ferries have covered seating areas with tables on deck where you can sit comfortably. Our ferry was old and didn’t offer much in the way of coffee or treats, but luckily, we had brought our own snacks and drinks to keep us going throughout the day.
The Greek island atmosphere
If I had to mention one thing I truly remember – and often find myself dreaming about – from our trip to Greece, it was the atmosphere on board as the sun began to set and the sky lit up with pastel colors, softening all the hues into a gentle, loving light. It felt as if we all relaxed, as if the day’s adventures at sea were coming to an end, and we were preparing to spend the night on the water. But nothing ended. Everything just kept going.
As the soft pastels faded, the sun dipped completely behind the mountains, casting its light in wild orange and red hues, creating hazy silhouettes between the peaks. The atmosphere we experienced that evening in the Greek archipelago was almost indescribable. It felt like being part of a dream, drifting past the noisy ferry, which with its heavy engines gently pushed us through the waves and into the night.
When night falls over the sea – and everything still comes alive
We had booked a cabin to sleep in. It was small, uncomfortable, and there’s not much to say about it except that it had a small window and our beds were on opposite sides, with a little night lamp between them. But the cabin became our little sanctuary where we retreated at times – reading, playing cards, or just lying in our bunks talking about what the night might bring and how the dinner in the cafeteria had been.
The cafeteria dinner was indescribably awful – expensive and tasted like sticking your tongue out the window. Yet somehow, it felt fitting for the old ferry experience and became a natural part of the trip, standing in contrast to all the beautiful things we otherwise enjoyed.
And the night… well, the night turned out nothing like we expected.
We knew the ferry would stop at different islands, but we had no idea about the life and atmosphere we’d experience each time it did. The first few stops were especially exciting, because every island is different – and so is its harbor. Docking, whether you get off or not, is an adventure in itself. What does the town look like? Who’s coming on board? These moments gave us many little breaks during our otherwise long journey. Every time we approached an island, we hurried up to the deck to watch everything happening.
Even late in the evening, we hurried out of our cabin to head up to the deck and take it all in. At the harbors, old men sat on their plastic chairs, drinking coffee and chatting, some playing board games – others watching everything with sharp, practiced eyes.
On the quay, we witnessed personal dramas unfold: cheers and hugs as families joyfully reunited – or tearful, lump-in-the-throat waves repeated again and again until family members became tiny black dots on the horizon, turning back to head home.
During the night, we occasionally woke up as the ferry’s engines slowed to dock. We could hear cranes lifting heavy pallets of cargo on and off, men giving orders, whistles blowing.
We didn’t get much sleep that night, and when we woke very, very early the next morning, we naturally hurried back up to the deck – tired but eager to see all the new sights we were sailing toward. The approach to Piraeus had begun.
The Approach to Piraeus
The approach to Piraeus in the morning is one of the most beautiful sights! My father always used to tell me that. As a young boy, he sailed in the Mediterranean, and especially the approach to Piraeus stayed vividly in his memory. When we traveled to Greece, he was very ill with lung cancer, and his words felt especially powerful amidst the sunrise.
Standing there on the deck, with the sun shining right in my face, the salty scent of the sea, and the white houses to my right, I could only agree with him. It was nothing short of magical.
On land, it was morning, no doubt filled with the noise of people rushing to work, scooters and cars honking. But out there, in the middle of the sea, everything was quiet. Even the ferry’s engines were almost silent.
Piraeus Harbor
As we approached Piraeus harbor, the quiet atmosphere transformed into a noisy, bustling Southern European port scene. Piraeus harbor isn’t beautiful or idyllic. But it’s a harbor we often call one of the most authentic we’ve ever sailed into – and one of the largest.
The harbor was filled with large boats, cranes, and thick ropes lying everywhere. Men were busy tying lines, tarrying boats, mending nets, and guiding travelers along the quay. The air was pungent with the sharp smells of hot asphalt, salty sea, rotting fish, warm tar, and engine oil. The water was still green, but the clear, crystal waters had given way to thick, warm waves patterned with drifting oil from the big boats.
We disembarked with our backpacks, stumbled over thick ropes, and made our way through the chaos to the train that would take us to Athens.
On the train, we suddenly found ourselves in the busy city morning – the one we had seen just hours before from the sea. The adventure had changed course. We followed along.
