Greece, 2009.

Like many people, I thought I already knew Greece from the photos — the white houses, the blue domes, the sunsets. But being there was a whole different story.

I owe a big thanks to my dear friend Valeria for pointing me in the right direction. She had visited Greece once before, but outside the high season. While it was beautiful, many places on the islands were closed, and she left feeling like she hadn’t truly experienced the Greece she had always imagined. So, she went back — this time during peak season — and finally lived the dream.

Taking her advice to heart, my brother and I planned our trip for August. It doesn’t get more “high season” than that — and honestly, I’m still glad we did it. Not so much for Athens, but definitely for Santorini and Mykonos. But I’ll get to those soon.

First things first: before beaches and parties, it was time for history — in Athens.

Standing in front of the Parthenon, with the marble glowing in the morning light, I realized just how long I had waited for that moment. I’d seen it in books, movies, school presentations — but the real thing was something else entirely. It wasn’t just beautiful. It felt like stepping into the pages of history.

We wandered through Plaka, Psyrri, and Monastiráki, each with its own atmosphere — from quiet alleys where you could hear your footsteps echo, to lively squares filled with coffee shops and the characteristic smell of spices from Greek cuisine. It was one of those days when you’re not chasing sights, just letting the city show itself. Every now and then, we ducked into a museum — the National Archaeological Museum, the Benaki Museum, and the Museum of Cycladic Art,  where the minimalist marble figurines looked almost modern, like something out of a design gallery.

That night, with my brain buzzing, feet aching, and heart strangely full, I knew: Greece isn’t just about beaches and sunsets. It starts with history.

A New Home for Ancient Greece.

Next up was one of the highlights of our trip: the recently inaugurated Acropolis Museum. We were lucky — it had opened just two months earlier, in June, and the only way to visit was by purchasing tickets online in advance.

Back in 2009, I wrote to friends about it:

“Today we started at the New Acropolis Museum. It’s brand new — opened in June, with a budget of 130 million euros. Located right at the foot of the Acropolis, its glass walls and floors allow visitors to see the archaeological site beneath the building. One side of the museum faces the Acropolis itself, acting almost like a natural backdrop for the artifacts, which once stood proudly on the top of the hill.

I had the strange feeling that the pieces had rolled down from the hilltop — not just relocated, but somehow fallen, like wounded relics. What you see are fragments. Echoes. There’s so little left.

To help visitors visualize what the originals looked like, many sections are recreated in plaster — a subtle protest against the missing artifacts still held in the UK. Despite the sadness of seeing only pieces of such a majestic past, the museum itself is stunning. I’m so glad I booked in advance and arrived early.

The line snaked around the plaza under a blazing sun. Watching it from inside, in the museum’s cool, shadowed interior, felt like another reason to be grateful we got in early.”

Only then, with history still fresh in my mind, I was ready for the beaches.

Next stop: Santorini.

“After a very exciting landing, my brother Carlos turned to me, worried — and we went off in search of a taxi. The driver asked where we were going, loaded our luggage into the trunk, and sat down. Just then, a couple walked by. Without missing a beat, the driver repeated the whole process — tossed their bags in and had them join us. No questions asked!
That’s how I found out taxis in Santorini are shared.

Tomorrow we’re renting a car to explore the island. Honestly, I don’t think even the gods of Olympus will be able to help me navigate with all those Greek road signs — they look more like math formulas!”

“Yesterday we rented a car and drove around almost the entire island. It’s huge and crescent-shaped. In fact, it used to be circular, but a volcanic eruption left it with its current form.

Thira (or Fira), where we’re staying, is the island’s capital and where all the action is. It’s right in the center of the moon’s inner curve, facing the volcano’s crater.

First, we went to the far north, to a town called Oia. They say the place is full of vampires.
I looked in vain for Edward Cullen, but he couldn’t be found.”

I still smile at my Edward Cullen reference — 2009 me really took that joke seriously. And yes, I had read the Twilight Trilogy back then.

“We took a quick stroll along the beach and went back to Fira to watch the sun sink behind the crater — a must-do here. The funny thing is, we were sitting in one of the many bars on the island’s slope, sipping rosé, when I received a text from Jac, my friend back in Brazil: ‘Bitch, you abandoned me! I’m going to shove the barbecue up your ass…’ Nothing could have been more perfect to pull me out of my dream and remind me of reality! It was a classic family barbecue I had skipped for this trip — all of them were born in July or August, so the grill was always on.”

“This morning, we went to the ruins of Ancient Thira. It’s located at a very high point of the island with a spectacular view. The ruins are from the 3rd and 4th centuries BC, and the most impressive part is the theater — it could hold 1,500 people, with the sea as its backdrop”. 

“Now we are in Perissa, a wide beach with chairs, umbrellas, and calm, crystal-clear water. We’ll spend the afternoon here and later return to Oia to watch the sunset. Tomorrow I’ll do something I hate: an excursion. But since I don’t have a boat, it’s the only way to visit the volcano. I confess that every time I read that the volcano is still active, I get tense… So many emotions…”

Those sunsets are the kind of memories that stayed. Anytime someone asks me about Santorini, that’s what I remember — the light melting into the crater and the rooftops painted blue. But even back then, it was already crowded. After the pandemic, I imagine it’s simply impossible to find that romantic atmosphere most people dream of.

As much as I loved Santorini’s beauty, it was in Mykonos that I truly let loose — and where I found my favorite version of Greece.

The Greece I Still Miss Most: Mykonos.

When I arrived in Mykonos, I thought I had just left one of the most beautiful places I’d ever seen. Little did I know, the best was still to come.

We chose to visit the islands in the peak of summer — August. I wanted to experience the place at full throttle, with all the chaos and energy included. Looking back, I think it was the best decision I could have made.

The first thing we did was head straight to a shop to rent ATVs. I can’t remember whose idea it was, but of course, I was instantly on board. After some back-and-forth with the rental guy, the inevitable question came up:

“Who’s going to drive?”

Without hesitation, we both answered, “Me!”

Naturally, we couldn’t agree, so we left the shop with two ATVs instead of one. And honestly, that turned out to be one of the best parts of the trip. I loved zipping around Mykonos on that thing — dust in my hair, salt in the air, the road twisting along the sea. The wind, the freedom, the novelty — everything added to the fun.

“Mykonos is known for being open-minded. Here, anything goes — and everyone acts like it’s the most normal thing in the world. But even knowing that, I was still shocked when I saw a completely naked man lounging on a beach chair. It was surreal. And I SWEAR it wasn’t a nude beach.

On one side of me, there was an elderly couple in full swimsuits. On the other, a family with a four-year-old child — all dressed. Just two umbrellas away, a topless woman sunbathed next to her partner. And then, as if it were nothing, a man as naked as the day he was born strolled slowly along the shore.

No one flinched. No raised eyebrows. Nothing.
Now that’s modern.”

At this point, I can’t go any further without sharing a piece of wisdom from Mônica — the friend who once joined me in Prague and Vienna. She had already been to Mykonos and gave me one of the most valuable travel tips I’ve ever received: bring the darkest sunglasses you own to the beach — strictly for observation purposes while lounging on a sunbed.

Turns out, it was pure gold.

Just Another day in Paradise.

When I decided to go to Mykonos, I already knew it was a famous LGBTQ+ destination. Still, I must admit I was surprised.

“Just look around at the number of gay people. There are sooooo many!!! And they’re beautiful! Since I arrived, I’ve had the impression that half of the interesting men on the planet are in love with the other half. And that’s that!!!”

The town center is almost as fun as the beaches. It’s a wonderfully unusual mix: narrow alleyways lined with whitewashed houses splashed with bougainvillea, trendy boutiques, modern restaurants, and bars blasting stylish lounge music. The streets were crowded with every type of traveler you can imagine, yet everything coexisted in perfect, cheerful harmony. I can still recall the upbeat atmosphere, the scent of grilled souvlaki drifting through the air, and the sun bouncing off the dazzling white walls.

“We started the day at Paraga Beach, one of the busiest — just like the one we went to yesterday. We stayed there for a bit and then made our way to Paradise Beach, which became our favorite spot.

From a distance, you could already hear the techno pumping. We claimed a spot at a huge beach bar with even bigger speakers. The later it got, the louder the music grew, and the crowd kept swelling. I’m not even that into techno, but somehow it’s the perfect soundtrack for Mykonos. The energy is infectious. First, your shoulders start moving, then your neck… and before you know it, you’re dancing with your hands in the air. Depending on your level of shyness — or how much you’ve had to drink — you might even end up dancing on top of the table.

There was a host hyping up the crowd (as if that was needed), wearing an outfit that was… let’s say, hard to forget. From behind: just a red thong, basically a string. And in the front: the face of an elephant, with the trunk strategically covering you-know-what. I swear! Good thing he had a fantastic body — otherwise, it would’ve been the stuff of nightmares.”

This Is the Spirit of Mykonos

As I’ve already said, I’ve always been a party girl. I loved the vibrant atmosphere of Mykonos because, in a way, you could almost smell the party in the air. And I don’t mean people lost in drugs and booze — though yes, there’s that too (no judgment!). It’s something else entirely.

Whatever the reason, a party is always a celebration. That’s why the island’s atmosphere felt drenched in laughter and lightness. This is the party spirit I’m talking about. Mykonos had an energy like no other — people zooming around on quad bikes with smiles on their faces, music spilling from every corner. It was as if the island were protected by an invisible dome that kept the bad vibes out.

The perfect mix of modern, beautiful beaches and this celebratory vibe was incredibly powerful.

Mykonos also operates in its own time zone. There, “morning” starts around 2 or 3 p.m., and “night” doesn’t really begin until 1 a.m. Before 3 p.m., the island feels like it’s on standby — you might even be fooled into thinking it’s a peaceful retreat (though it never loses its party soul). But after 5 p.m., everyone’s recharged, and that’s when the magic starts.

“Today, Tuesday, we explored a part of the island we hadn’t seen yet and ended up at Platis Gialos, a well-known beach here. Later, we’re heading back to Paradise — best place in the world right now.
What will the hostess guy be wearing today? I’m curious…”

Now, from the height of my 53 years — and with my freshly dyed hair — I still want to go back and do it all over again. Because if Mykonos taught me anything, it’s that the party spirit never really leaves you