For my first trip out of the city, I chose the small, lesser known island of Folegandros in the southern part of the Cyclades. Many Greeks I met seemed impressed I even knew about the island, asking “What are you going to do alone out there?” But being alone for a few days was exactly what I needed— this would be the only part of my trip that I’d planned to stay in a private Airbnb instead of a hostel.

After a nauseating 5 hour ride on a ferry, I stumbled off the boat to a completely different scenery than the city I’d be wandering that morning. This island is Martian — mostly barren, rocky and mountainous. On the bus ride up from the port to the main town, the mountains seemed to camouflage into each other, everything a dusty brown. From straight-on, the landscape seemed almost two-dimensional, bursting into form like a pop-up children’s book once we’d round a corner. The only thing to break the monotony of rocky brown was the cloudless blue sky, mirrored by the even brighter blue of the Aegean Sea, along with blinding white specks scattered in the void: little churches perched on the edge of cliffs and squeezed in canyon bends.

My Airbnb was in the old town of Chora — one of the only three villages on the island. This was before I figured out that “Chora” was not unique to Folegandros, and actually just means “Town” in Greek. The town is exactly what you think of when you think “Greek” and the word “picturesque”: white stone houses with blue shutters and flower boxes overflowing with pink bougainvilleas.

The first night, I treated myself to a nice dinner people-watching; most of the island was filled with Italians, French, and Greeks on holiday. However, since the island is relatively unknown, it doesn’t feel too touristy at all (until everyone finds out about it that is). For my first Greek island sunset, I walked up a steep hill to reach the church overlooking the town, the Church of Panagia. It was spectacular, to say the least.

The three days I spent in Folegandros consisted mostly of eating Greek salad and gyros and lying on the beach reading. There was much more hiking involved than I expected (good thing I only brought sandals with me), and some beaches could only be reached by boat.

The first beach I visited was a small port called Agali — a sandy cove dotted with taverns and beach umbrellas. It took a terrifying ride in a coach bus down a steep hill to get there, but it was worth it. A short 20 minute hike up and around the other mountainside led to the more seculded beach of Agios Nicolaos, which, to my surprise, turned out to be a nude beach, and (not because of that) turned out to be my favorite. Small pine trees lined the beach close enough to the water that you could relax in the shade. Unfortunately, my pictures of that beach are limited since it was difficult to get a shot without featuring some overly-bronzed, completely naked man. The third beach I visited was Katergo beach. This beach, a small stretch of sand enclosed by a cliff, could only be reached by boat. I didn’t realize how wild it would be — no shade and no taverns — but this lent to its beauty.