The view from our hotel room balcony one morning. That’s Turkey in the background.
Next stop in Greece – and our last, for now at least – is the island of Kos, still in the Dodecanese Islands and just barely off the coast of Turkey. We’re still amazed (as you’ll see from the pictures here) by the beauty of the Mediterranean, the boats, the beaches, and all that. At the same time, though, we’re eager to spend a month or so in Turkey so after four days in Kos we’re crossing over to Turkey.
The proximity of Kos to the Turkish mainland added a layer of interest and complexity to our visit: Kos is just three miles from the Turkish mainland and thus is one of the major entrance points for Syrian, Afghani, and Iraqi refugees able to move overland into Turkey and who are then just a short hop – crammed into barely seaworthy boats at night – into Europe.
A small sample of the refugees crammed along the coast, waiting for officials to process their papers to move further into Europe. Your heart breaks for the refugees – and for the owners of the now-nearly empty restaurants that line the opposite side of the street. They should be full of tourists but now are pretty much empty.
That’s not a normal cruise boat parked in Kos; it’s the boat that presumably thousands of refugees will board when their documents are ready to sail to Athens en route to other places around Europe. It sailed on our third day in Kos, and you could only wonder what those onboard were thinking as they head off into yet another mystery.
We had read a little about the refugee issues before arriving, and it could be a reason why we were able to find a nice hotel on short notice at the peak of tourist season. The press has not been good, with thousands of frustrated refugees trying to get documentation to get beyond their temporary status and the small town of Kos simply overwhelmed by the numbers. It breaks your heart to see all the people, mostly young men, doing what they can to escape ISIS, Bashar al-Assad, the Taliban, and all the evils of war. So they go overland through Turkey, cross the three-mile sea channel at night, and then wait for the rest of Europe to do something for them. It’s ugly and terribly sad.
Ruins of the 15th century Knights of St. John castle
Its biggest claim to fame is that Kos was the home of Hippocrates, generally thought of as the father of Western medicine, who practiced and taught there in the 5th century BC; he is credited with being the first person to teach that illness was caused naturally rather than being a function of the gods. The Plane Tree of Hippocrates still sits in the same spot where he supposedly taught his students. While the 500-year-old tree that stands there is pretty clearly not 2,500 years old it is believed that it may be a direct descendant of the tree under which Hippocrates (and Paul of Tarsus!) taught.
The Plane Tree of Hippocrates, a 500-year-old plane tree that may be a direct descendant of the tree under which Hippocrates taught “modern” medicine. It sits across from a now-abandoned 18th century mosque
Today you can enjoy all that history, along with lots of good restaurants and all that. Best for us, though, was life on the water. We spent a couple days at a crowded but still fabulous beach right in the city. It’s a place where, if you lunch at a beach restaurant, you can use their daybeds for free. That made for pleasant and relaxing days.
Sunny Beach
The highlight, though, was the day we rented a car and drove to the southeastern section of the island where a series of beaches stretch for seven miles down the coast. We ended up at Sunny Beach, which I thought it might be the single most perfect beach I’ve ever been to. Great sand, perfect water, remarkably uncrowded, and a picturesque Greek restaurant on a hill behind the beach. That’s about as good as it will ever get.
Sunny Beach, from our lunch spot, on the southeastern coast of Kos. That single line of umbrellas stretches on for miles making for a heavenly beach experience.
So that’s it for Greece. For now, that is; we’ll be back in a year or two. Meanwhile we’re going over to Turkey and see what a difference three miles across the sea can make.
Pouring wine, overlooking Sunny Beach
Not a bad place to swim
Sunrise over the Turkish coast from our hotel room
This was just a random shot while we were sailing from Rhodes up to Kos. It partly explains why we like traveling like this!
Finally, one more fun bartender story. We stopped in here before dinner one night and chatted with this guy. He said he was from Russia and when we asked where he said “Kazakhstan.” But Kazakhstan isn’t in Russia, we pointed out; I know, I’ve been to both. “Yes it is,” he answered simply. At which point you realized (and he confirmed) that he’s ethnically Russian. To ethnic Russians from parts of the former Soviet Union, it’s all still Russia. A little scary.