Mykonos Wasn't Even the Plan

It wasn't an unfamiliar destination for me. I'd already been there in June with a bigger group, and back then it was all a bit more upscale — a rented luxury villa, more people, more of a programme, a completely different atmosphere. This time it was just the two of us. No villa, no big plans. Just a few days to switch off, some sea, good food, coffee, an evening in town and, depending on the mood, heading somewhere. Exactly the kind of trip where you don't wake up feeling like you're already late for the first item on an itinerary.

We picked Hotel Aegean, right above the harbour, a few minutes' walk from the centre of Mykonos Town. Simpler than the accommodation in June, but the location was perfect for a weekend like this. On Friday evening we boarded in Bratislava, and about two hours later we were already stepping off the plane on Mykonos. I love flights like that — you're still going about your afternoon at home, and by evening you're suddenly standing on a Greek island.

A transfer to the hotel was waiting outside the airport. We knew we'd arrive late, so we'd been told in advance that the night guard would hand over the room. Everything went smoothly right up until we opened the door. We were supposed to have one double room with a terrace. Instead, we got two separate bedrooms, three beds between them, and a small balcony instead of a terrace. So, technically, more rooms, more beds, and less terrace.

We looked at it for a moment and decided this really wasn't something to deal with at that hour. It would sort itself out in the morning. Green backpack on the bed, change clothes, and out. You don't fly in on a Friday evening to Mykonos just to go to sleep.

We walked down into town, crossed through Little Venice, stopped at Selima Bar, and started soaking up the evening. I already knew a lot of the places from June, so this time I didn't feel any need to discover everything at all costs. I just wanted to enjoy the town without a programme. The nightlife didn't surprise me — it only confirmed what I already knew. Once it gets dark on Mykonos, the island absolutely does not go to sleep. The alleys fill up, music plays out of every bar, people drift from one place to the next, and time stops mattering very much. I got to bed sometime around two in the morning. Plenty for a first night.

Saturday

Sofia, the hotel manager, came by in the morning. We explained the room situation, and I expected the usual back-and-forth about who booked what and where the mix-up happened. None of that. Sofia apologised, explained that the night guard had simply handed us the wrong room, and sorted it out immediately. By eleven we had the right one — with a terrace and a beautiful view over the harbour. As an apology, she also threw in a completely free late checkout. Instead of leaving Monday at 11:00, we could keep the room until 20:30, after which the hotel would drive us straight to the airport.

So everything I'd shelved the night before with "it'll sort itself out in the morning" really did sort itself out. And even better than expected.

Saturday looked great. Sun, warmth, and the typical Mykonos wind, which can very elegantly deceive you. I spent the morning on a sunbed by the hotel pool, feeling like the sun wasn't really that strong. Mykonos reminded me a little later that this was nonsense. The wind is pleasant, but your skin clearly has its own opinion on the matter.

Once I'd had enough sun, we headed into town. For lunch we chose Souvlaki Story. I love Greek food, so for me it's never really a question of whether I'll order something Greek — more a question of exactly what. After lunch we just wandered the town for a while, looked at a few shops, walked over to the famous windmills, and didn't rush anywhere in particular.

Then came the idea to rent scooters. At Hercules Car and Bike Rentals we sorted out two bikes and headed toward the Armenistis Lighthouse. And this was exactly the moment the trip started shifting from a weekend in town into a proper island escape. On a scooter you realise Mykonos isn't just white houses, expensive bars, Little Venice and windmill photos. A few minutes of riding and suddenly there are far fewer people around you, far more open space, road, sea and wind.

The Armenistis Lighthouse was an excellent target. The atmosphere by the lighthouse is completely different from down in town. You stand there, the sea in front of you, the wind doing its work, and the whole party version of Mykonos is suddenly very far away. That's exactly the contrast I enjoy on this island. It can be loud, expensive and completely wild, but move a little further out and you find its exact opposite.

We came back into town in the evening. Dinner, coffee, a drink, a walk among people, and a bit more of the Mykonos nightlife. And it was at Selima Bar that one of those small coincidences happened — the kind you end up remembering more clearly than some of the planned stops.

I noticed a curly-haired, red-haired Greek woman there who seemed immediately familiar. I spent a moment trying to place her, and then it clicked. In June, on my first trip to Mykonos, she'd been singing live. I even had her in an old Instagram story. Back then I'd just been passing by, caught by her singing — and, I'll admit, by her too.

So I went up to her and politely asked whether she might have been singing here back in June. I pulled out my phone, found the old video, and showed it to her. Her reaction was worth it. I hadn't seen a smile that wide in a long time — if she hadn't had ears, it probably would have gone all the way around her head. She was genuinely delighted that I'd remembered her after three months, and that I still had the video of her singing. She gave me her number right away and asked if I'd send it to her.

Her name was Marianna.

These are exactly the small moments I love about travelling. They're not on any itinerary, they can't be planned, and they simply happen. Three months later you're standing on the same island, in the same bar, and suddenly an old clip from your phone connects with a real person standing in front of you. Things like that just stick.

After that, it was Mykonos again. Alleys, people, music, an evening lived at its own pace. This time, though, I didn't push it to two. We'd rented scooters, after all, and it would have been a shame to sleep through half of Sunday.

Sunday

Sunday continued exactly in the spirit we'd set for the trip. Nothing complicated. Beach, sea, a bit of town, then onto the scooters and off toward Super Paradise Beach. We had lunch at Thalas Tavern & Beach, right by the water. Greek food, the sea a few metres from the table, and the feeling that Monday didn't exist yet. Exactly what a Sunday should look like.

And then came the ice cream. Pistachio with Aegean salt, and mastiha. I could imagine the pistachio, but the combination with Aegean salt was unbelievably good. The mastiha was a completely different flavour from anything I was used to in an ice cream — exactly the kind of thing you remember partly because it wouldn't even occur to you to order it back home.

After lunch we rode around the island a bit more on the scooters. No particular destination. Turn off occasionally, stop somewhere, take in a view, then carry on. I like this more and more the longer I travel. I don't always need to know exactly where I'm going. Sometimes it's enough that I'm going.

In the evening we went back into town and chose KADENA right by the harbour for dinner. Good food, boats, evening buzz, and then one more classic lap around nighttime Mykonos. Watch the town come back to life, have something to drink, and slowly head back to the hotel. Sunday went by in one long stretch of good mood.

Monday

By Monday morning I already knew, of course, that it was all coming to an end, but I decided not to focus on that for now. The flight wasn't until evening, we had the room until 20:30 thanks to Sofia, and practically the whole day was still ahead of us.

For breakfast I chose Zea Bakery, a small bakery away from the centre, more inland. Exactly my kind of place — less effect, more food. And there was plenty of it. Display cases full of savoury, sweet, pastries and everything in between, the kind of place that makes you wonder whether a second breakfast might actually be the practical choice. The bakery didn't disappoint, and the biggest win of the morning was probably managing to hold back and not buy half the shop.

After breakfast we rode the scooters a bit more. Final kilometres around the island, a few more turns, then back to the hotel. And when you've got the room until evening, what else is there to do? Sunbed, pool, sun. A bit of lying around before heading back to Bratislava never hurt anyone. At least, that's what I told myself at the time.

Later we returned the scooters, and one important task remained — a pin for the green backpack. From the places I visit, I gradually add pins to the backpack. There's no complicated rule behind it, except one: it has to be from a place I've actually been.

On Mykonos I took a while choosing. Windmills, blue domes, the classic lettering, all the usual options. And then I found a souvlaki wrapped in pita. I looked at it and that was that, decided. It felt completely spontaneous, a bit funny, and perfectly Greek at the same time. So no romantic sunset, no windmill. From Mykonos, the green backpack gets a souvlaki in pita.

For the last evening, we didn't want to go far. We wanted something close to the hotel, good food, and ideally one more proper view. Oniro Sunset Bar & Restaurant delivered on all counts. Mussels in wine to start, then a proper portion of seafood. I wasn't in the mood for a cocktail this time, so just a glass of white wine. And honestly, I didn't need anything more. Sitting, eating, watching the sea, and realising that just a few days earlier we weren't even supposed to be here at all.

We were supposed to be on Skiathos. We ended up sitting on Mykonos.

A few more shots, one last look at the sea, and slowly on foot back to the hotel. Pack the green backpack, wait for the transfer, head to the airport. One last coffee there. Of course. And then it was just BTS ahead.

A few days before departure, we had a completely different plan. We were supposed to fly to Skiathos, and Mykonos essentially happened at the last minute. In the end, it turned into a spontaneous long weekend with no big expectations — scooters, Greek food, sea, an evening town, a bit of nightlife, and plenty of sun. Exactly the kind of trip that reminds you not everything has to be perfectly planned to turn out well.

And maybe that's exactly why what I remember isn't just the places. I remember Marianna from Selima Bar too. The curly-haired, red-haired Greek woman I'd caught by chance on an Instagram story back in June, because her singing caught my attention — and, I'll admit, so did she. Three months later, I stood in front of her with that same video on my phone, watching that enormous smile when she realised I'd remembered her. Exactly the kind of small thing you never plan for, and exactly why it stays with you.

Then just one last coffee at the airport, the green backpack on my shoulder, and on toward Bratislava.

Souvlaki in pita

I brought home a smile, a tan, a memory of Marianna, and a new pin for the green backpack.

Souvlaki in pita.

Probably the most spontaneous souvenir from the most spontaneous trip.