There’s something poetic about a book of “star”-themed chapters being touched by an eclipse — as if the cosmos itself has decided to join in.

Elafonisi – The ‘Grecian Maldives’
by Sarah-Jane Dunwoody

The beach of Elafonisi has been ranked No 1 in the World by Tripadvisor for the Travelers’ Choice Awards of 2025.  This beach and islet were the setting for a travel writing piece I did in 1993 when this destination in Crete was of much lesser known fame.  When living in London, a version of this story won a competition and was selected to be published in a book:  Time Out - Travel and Holiday Stories, edited by Suzi Blair.  The royalties that I earned were enough to buy a cheap bottle of red wine!

After dutifully ticking off the obligatory tourist spots – marveling at the ancient Minoan ruins of Knossos, Europe's oldest known civilization; conquering the 15-kilometre trek through Samaria Gorge, Europe’s longest gorge; and shopping for that perfect ceramic or leather souvenir in one of the bustling market stalls – what you truly deserve is a chilled-out day at the beach.  But rather than laying down towels to mark our sunbathing spot on the  beach closest to our hotel, we wanted to make this an adventure and we set upon finding a destination that would stick in our memory forever.

Looking to turn this trip into a bit of a pilgrimage, enter the ever-popular Greek island tradition of hiring a moped for the day. It was easy to find someone with a good range of transportation rentals and the only thing left to do was make a decision about where to go. Elafonisi seemed the perfect choice—a speck of an island in the ocean off Crete's southwestern coast, affectionately referred to by locals as the ‘Grecian Maldives.’ With little more than a handful of tourists and a stretch of untamed pink tinted sand, Elafonisi promised the kind of raw beauty that so many beaches have lost due to over development. Here, you can wade out to a tiny island through a lagoon, its waters supposedly as warm as the first ouzo on a hot day.  The descriptions being told to us of this unspoiled beach met with our intention to find our special Cretian happy place.

Our journey began early. A brief test ride to match riders to vehicle, we were encouraged to first take a short drive a block down the street and back, and then we were ready to be off. I tucked my daypack behind me, donned my sunnies, and clung to the waist of my driver – the master of our 90cc moped for the day. We started out slowly, but it wasn’t long before I had to grip on tight as we lurched through the gears. The bike and I were quickly praying to any local saint that might listen as we made our way west, hoping no obstacles would cause us to change gears again.

The beauty of having your own transport is the freedom to stop wherever you like. After covering a few miles without mishap, we pulled over at a quaint roadside café ready for a coffee break, giving us time to consult the map. Two routes presented themselves: a direct inland road or a winding coastal path that would take us along the precipitous hillsides and cliffs. After a quick glance at our small motorbike, we decided that the adventurous route was ours.

We set off again, and for the first few miles, I kept my eyes firmly on the road, trying not to giggle at my driver’s ever more dramatic gear shifts. But the spectacular scenery soon demanded my full attention. Sharp bends and winding gradients greeted us, but somehow, the little moped with ever more urgent whining engine noise, made its way along the road without too much trouble. The real worry was the occasional bus hurtling toward us. But the panoramic views were worth every moment of anxiety.

On one side, the craggy hills rose up, dotted with little white churches and pink blossoming trees. To the other, sheer cliffs dropped into sparkling blue waters, where secluded coves below promised the kind of peaceful swim you could usually only dream of for a hot summer's day.  

Becoming much more confident on our tiny transport, morale was high. We stopped in a village, where one solitary taverna and a handful of houses stood sheltered by the hills. A shy little girl brought us chilled bottles of coke, and an elderly man leaned against the whitewashed wall of the taverna, silently observing our brief stop. It was as if two worlds collided—us, the brightly-clad travelers, offering him a cigarette and a few unconnected sentences interrupting his contemplation of the peaceful surroundings and slowly moving day.  We were soon motoring off again into the hot Greek landscape passing acres of glasshouses full of ripening tomatoes.  They left me dreaming of the next perfect Greek salad I would be enjoying.  The best tomatoes bursting with summer sun flavour, complimented by the sharp tang of feta and the peppery olives was a must for at least one meal a day.

Just a few miles further down the road, we hit our first real challenge: the tarmac finishing and a rough, shingle path continued on. The road snaked out before us, a dusty line leading over into the next valley and around another point.  After a short pause to discuss this unexpected twist, we decided it was far too early to turn back. With our hearts set on reaching Elafonisi, we set our intentions and pushed bravely on, hoping tyres and our bones would all hold up to the jarring ride.

The ride became increasingly bumpy as we navigated rocks and the looming cliffs at our side. But nothing could deter us. Dust clouds kicked up by passing jeeps only made us more determined to continue. Our moped creaked and rattled, and we clung to it as the road seemed to stretch endlessly, but nothing would stop us now.  Our sun tans took on a matte finish as the dust settled on our bodies and the grit got up our noses and into our mouths.  We started yearning for the descent back to sea level and around the final bend we started heading downhill at an overly confident speed that bounced our bodies around whilst we attempted to maintain our centre of gravity and balance on the small motor scooter.

Five hours later, exhausted, sunburnt, and completely covered in a fine dusting of the Cretan landscape, we saw it: the coast—a peninsula with its beach of pale pink sand, the dreamy turquoise waters pooling into different colours with the play of light and a tiny island beckoning to us. Our hearts lifted, and all the bumps and dust clouds suddenly seemed worth it.

We pulled into the car park and came to a standstill by the shade of a tree, and there it was: Elafonisi. The water, clear as crystal, beckoned us to wade out through the shallow lagoon to the little island. Two small huts on the beach offered cold beers under the shelter of fringed sun umbrellas, and the horizon seemed to stretch out over sparkling waters offering endless serenity.

We had made it. Covered in dust, sweat, and the unmistakable glow of the Greek sun, we looked at each other, a sea breeze brushed over us and without a word, we knew exactly what to do next. It was time to slip into the water, clear the senses, wash off the vibrations of the road and fully experience this enchanting paradise laid out before us

February 2025