As a child, I was taught the myths as some kids learned the Bible. I don’t necessarily call myself a Pagan at parties, and I almost never sacrifice goats during the full moons (anymore) but I definitely believe in Hera, Zeus, and all the heroes of the Trojan War–to me it’s just so much cooler! So for me, my trip to Mykonos was trip was something of a holy pilgrimage. I was going to swim in the sea that Achilles crossed! Walk through Diana’s forests! Eat my weight in baklava!!
Because of my dorky, dreamy attachment to Greece, I really think I got more out of the trip than my traveling companions. All 42 of them.
Yes Shalloners, you read that corretly–I was in Greece with 42 new BFFs. Forty two. I knew no one but my friend Wen-Wen, who knew 4 people, who knew more, who knew more. So it was cliques within cliques, from all over the world–12 from Singapore, 14 from London, 6 from New York, 2 from LA, 3 from Germany, 1 from Dubai, several Aussies, a French girl, and a few Kiwis.
It was so refreshing and invigorating to be around so many international people! So many different experiences and points of view and reality stars that I’d never even heard of before!!
You know, I live in New York City, there’s no shortage of fascinating people. And yet I find myself ensconced in the same social circles going to the same types of places talking about the same types of things. This trip made me realize that (obvs) there’s a whole lot of world outside of Manhattan…but there’s also so much world inside it too. It really inspired me to get out of my comfort zone right here in NYC.
Although one thing that I definitley won’t find here in the city? A five-villa compound overlooking the entire island. Yes, our digs were the Zinas Villas, a $10 million property sat on the highest point in Mykonos.
To call it merely breathtaking would be like just shrugging vaguely when someone says Liam Hemsworth is hot. What kind of person would even do that? A monster. That’s who.
The villas came with guard dogs, five pools, a catering staff, drivers and cars, and of course, THE HELICOPTER.
I mean…a helicopter. When Pippa chipped her manicure I suggested we go get our nails done in Athens 
Mark, our fearless leader, organized some amazing outings, like a day on a yacht sailing around to some uninhabited islands including Delos. Once upon a time, Delos was second only to Delphi in terms of holiness. The tiny rocky island was the birthplace of Apollo and his twin Artemis and in 600 BC, it was declared so holy that no one was allowed to die or be born on it.
By the Roman Era, 88 BC, it was a multi-cultural and peaceful trade hub for the Cylcades, until King Mithradates slaughtered all 20,000 inhabitants to show his opposition to Roman rule. It never really recovered after that and now it’s uninhabited once again and hosts tours of the ruins.
But to see it from the back side, where no tourists go, was magic. Pure geeky Pagan magic.
The whole day was just…magic. I can’t even say it enough. Being in the sea–not simply the ocean, the sea–is so therapeutic. I was reading a magazine article about how in times of stress, you should think about your “blue place”–some body of water or memory involving the ocean–to calm your mind. I think I found mine. (Aegean bonus: there are no sharks!) (And if there are please no one tell me, kthanx)
The town was also ridiculously charming. We arrived just as the crowds and tourists cleared out and it felt like our own private island. Even the little touristy trap restaurants were incredible. I literally didn’t even know that’s what gyro was supposed to taste like.
Being in such a breathtaking place with such diverse people made me yearn to travel. My heart absolutely aches for Europe sometimes. It’s easy to forget just how big the world really is, and how much of it there is to see and how many new people there are to meet. What can I say, I’ve got a gypsy heart.
The Singaporeans brought paper lanterns and on the last night, high on love and Greek wine we did a lantern release which was just so charming and beautiful.
I know this was supposed to be my last trip of the season, but little does my passport and bank account and boyfriend realize that I’m only just getting warmed up.
I’m a wanderlester
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