Mykonos: My Cycladic Dream

We tendered into the old port and the wind hit us first — that famous meltemi whipping prayer flags and women's dresses like sails. Little Venice was already buzzing with photographers, but we turned left instead of right and found empty alleys where grandmas swept their doorsteps and cats slept in flowerpots. Breakfast was Greek yogurt with thyme honey so thick it stood up on the spoon, eaten on a balcony overlooking the sea.

We rented a quad bike (best decision) and escaped to Agios Sostis beach — no umbrellas, no music, just golden sand and water the color of a swimming pool. We swam for hours. We had lunch at Kiki's Tavern (no sign, no electricity, just perfection) — grilled octopus and pork chops straight from the fire, cold Alpha beer, zero phone signal. Heaven.

Back in town at golden hour the light turned everything peach and rose. The windmills looked like they were posing just for us. Yes, Mykonos is touristy and expensive and crowded by 11 a.m., but the beauty is so pure it almost hurts, and there are still secret corners if you look.