Hi
Does anyone know if there’s a direct ferry from Ios to Amorgos in September?
Thanks😄
13 similar discussions in English
Planning Corsica, Sardinia, Sicily, and Greece for autumn 2025
Hi everyone,
I’m looking for the bus days and schedules between Igoumenitsa and Lefkada starting in July. Do you know if they run frequently? On the various websites, the dates only go up to June 30.
Thanks
Hi there,
We’re heading to the Cyclades in August 2025 (yes, not the best season…). We’re looking for ferries to get from Paros to Serifos, then from Serifos to Andros. It seems like there aren’t ferries every day to Serifos… And from Serifos to Andros, bookings aren’t open yet. We checked ferryhopper.com. Could anyone give us some info on these routes, please? Is it necessary to book in advance?
Thanks for your help! Best,
We’re heading to the Cyclades in August 2025 (yes, not the best season…). We’re looking for ferries to get from Paros to Serifos, then from Serifos to Andros. It seems like there aren’t ferries every day to Serifos… And from Serifos to Andros, bookings aren’t open yet. We checked ferryhopper.com. Could anyone give us some info on these routes, please? Is it necessary to book in advance?
Thanks for your help! Best,
Hi there,
I'm trying to plan a little Greek getaway in early summer, and it's a tad complicated—connections from Sitia to Rhodes via Karpathos are only twice a week (and not on the days that work for me!). I gave up on the idea of Kastelorizo, which isn’t that easy to reach either, and replaced it with Symi, which has a daily connection—even several—to Rhodes, where I’d like to spend as little time as possible. I found a boat leaving Symi at 8:15 AM and arriving in Rhodes at 9:35 AM. The ferry to Karpathos leaves the same day at 11:00 AM. That’s 1 hour and 25 minutes to switch boats. It’s tempting because it’s a perfect sequence, but I’m wondering if it’s still a bit too tight.
Do Sebeco Lines’ speedboats arrive at the same port where Blue Star ferries depart? Are they punctual?
Catherine
I'm trying to plan a little Greek getaway in early summer, and it's a tad complicated—connections from Sitia to Rhodes via Karpathos are only twice a week (and not on the days that work for me!). I gave up on the idea of Kastelorizo, which isn’t that easy to reach either, and replaced it with Symi, which has a daily connection—even several—to Rhodes, where I’d like to spend as little time as possible. I found a boat leaving Symi at 8:15 AM and arriving in Rhodes at 9:35 AM. The ferry to Karpathos leaves the same day at 11:00 AM. That’s 1 hour and 25 minutes to switch boats. It’s tempting because it’s a perfect sequence, but I’m wondering if it’s still a bit too tight.
Do Sebeco Lines’ speedboats arrive at the same port where Blue Star ferries depart? Are they punctual?
Catherine
Hi everyone,
I hesitated for a long time before publishing this travel journal since it’s been 8 months now since I left Nisyros. But in the end, I found it too beautiful to keep quiet about. So here we go—I finally got around to writing it. Nisyros is a stunning little Greek island, and luckily, it’s well hidden. Located a good twenty hours by boat from Athens, its distance from the Greek mainland deters most tourists from visiting. That’s what makes it an off-the-beaten-path destination. So much for the general info.
Before diving into the details, I should mention that I visited by bike (despite its severe and constant volcanic elevation) as part of a solo trip from France to Turkey. Why this detail? Because out of the ten countries I crossed and the dozens of sites I saw, Nisyros is one of my top three favorites (along with Pag Island, off-season, in Croatia, and Albania for its overall beauty—stunning natural landscapes and the incredible hospitality of its people). Anyway, welcome to this travel journal dedicated to the lovely little volcanic island of Nisyros…
I arrived one beautiful morning in Mandraki, the island’s main port. The twenty-hour boat ride from Athens went by like a breeze. I slept on the deck for three or four hours, sprawled on a bench that was more or less sheltered from the wind. At this time of year (it’s May 2nd), tourists aren’t exactly flocking here, so the boat was far from full. My first glimpse of Nisyros is classic Greek island scenery: blazing sun, an azure sky, and an even deeper blue sea. The trip is off to a great start. I quickly found a small, out-of-the-way hotel (I’m one of those people who avoids crowds as much as possible when traveling, which is getting harder and harder to do). While everyone else from the boat turned right out of the port toward the center of Mandraki, I went left! My nice little hotel was just a hundred meters away, facing a pretty little Orthodox church whose red color contrasted beautifully with the deep blue sea.
I dropped off my panniers in my room so I could ride light for once, then headed toward the next village: Pali. It’s a small fishing village that apparently comes to life a bit in the summer with a few tourists.
As I pedaled along the dock, I passed right by a guy sitting in a chair in full sun. Unfazed despite the sweat pouring down his forehead, he untangled his fishing net with a precision that commanded respect. I gave him the obligatory kalimera (good morning), but he reacted like a deaf-mute—no response at all. On the other hand, his employee answered me kindly from the trawler docked right next to him. Standing on deck, he was also untangling a mess of nets and invited me aboard to chat. That’s Mohamed.
Communication wasn’t easy since he only spoke Greek and I didn’t, but he was cheerful, and his joy was contagious. He proudly showed off their catch of the day: two beautiful rays and a few brightly colored fish. We chatted like that for about fifteen minutes.
When it was time to hit the road again, I said goodbye to Mohamed, who smiled back. But this time, his boss—still dripping sweat in his chair under the scorching sun—greeted me too. Turns out he wasn’t deaf or mute after all.
I continued along the coast since that’s where most of Nisyros’ beaches are. They start lining up just outside Pali. These are black sand beaches, which can’t hide their volcanic origins.
Yesterday afternoon in Athens, I met Peter and Michelle, a Dutch-French couple, while we were waiting for the ferry to depart. The Greek sailors were on strike, so we ended up waiting about twelve hours before setting off. Anyway, we had plenty of time to chat, and Peter, who’s lived on Tilos—a small island near Nisyros—for about twenty years, told me that many migrants pass through these two islands. Most come from Afghanistan and Syria, fleeing authoritarian regimes and the massacres that come with them. They’re looking for *anywhere* else where the future can’t possibly be worse. Peter explained that you often find their belongings on the local beaches. And sure enough, I didn’t have to look far to spot some—clothes, life jackets…
I glanced around, hoping to see one of them to maybe exchange a few words, but no—no one. I was completely alone.
I got back on my bike and spent the rest of the day wandering aimlessly, just exploring this beautiful part of Nisyros. I also picked up some supplies because tomorrow, I’d be heading inland for two days, deep into its four-kilometer-wide caldera to explore the volcano. I’d be sleeping in a tent, so I needed to stock up on food. After a restful night in a real bed—something rare on this bike trip (and I won’t even mention the shower…)—I finally set off for the volcano (I’ll share details about that charming little hotel with the amazing breakfasts at the end of the journal). To reach Stefanos (the name of the main crater), I had to climb to the top of the caldera. It was hot, and some of the slopes were between 10 and 15%, which is steep, especially with a 54 kg bike. But who cares? I was admiring the scenery, and I have to say, I was surprised by how green it was. The higher I climbed, the more beautiful the vegetation became. It stood out against the blue of the sea, and the landscapes inside the island were truly stunning. So, I stopped every five minutes to take photos. Every now and then, I’d come across cows in the middle of the road—or goats in the trees! They climbed with the agility of monkeys to munch on the leaves. I couldn’t get a photo of them because they’d all scatter before I got close. It was actually the noise they made climbing down that tipped me off to their presence. Two villages sit at the top of the caldera: Emporios and Nikia. I passed the first one without climbing up to it, then continued to the second. And let me tell you, Nikia was love at first sight! I found myself pedaling through tiny streets, some barely wider than my bike with its panniers. The walls were white, and the doors were painted in all sorts of colors—green, blue, red… The streets were empty, and silence reigned. But it wasn’t a dead silence. It was more like the kind you find in small, secret, peaceful places. The village exuded tranquility, calm, and well-being. I leaned my bike—with all its gear—against a wall without locking it. It was the first time on this trip that I’d done that. Sure, its weight made it more like a tank than a bike, so you’d have to be *really* motivated to steal it, but here, for some reason, I felt completely at ease. Maybe it wasn’t the smartest move, but I go a lot by instinct, and here, it felt right. So I left my bike there and went to eat a little farther away, at a small restaurant on the village’s main square. It’s famous all over Greece for the beautiful mosaic that covers and decorates the floor. Once I’d eaten and drunk my fill, I hopped back on my bike, which had waited patiently without running off. And the best part? After riding uphill all morning to reach the top of the caldera, all I had to do now was coast downhill to the volcano. Pure bliss in such breathtaking scenery.
I hesitated for a long time before publishing this travel journal since it’s been 8 months now since I left Nisyros. But in the end, I found it too beautiful to keep quiet about. So here we go—I finally got around to writing it. Nisyros is a stunning little Greek island, and luckily, it’s well hidden. Located a good twenty hours by boat from Athens, its distance from the Greek mainland deters most tourists from visiting. That’s what makes it an off-the-beaten-path destination. So much for the general info.
Before diving into the details, I should mention that I visited by bike (despite its severe and constant volcanic elevation) as part of a solo trip from France to Turkey. Why this detail? Because out of the ten countries I crossed and the dozens of sites I saw, Nisyros is one of my top three favorites (along with Pag Island, off-season, in Croatia, and Albania for its overall beauty—stunning natural landscapes and the incredible hospitality of its people). Anyway, welcome to this travel journal dedicated to the lovely little volcanic island of Nisyros…
I arrived one beautiful morning in Mandraki, the island’s main port. The twenty-hour boat ride from Athens went by like a breeze. I slept on the deck for three or four hours, sprawled on a bench that was more or less sheltered from the wind. At this time of year (it’s May 2nd), tourists aren’t exactly flocking here, so the boat was far from full. My first glimpse of Nisyros is classic Greek island scenery: blazing sun, an azure sky, and an even deeper blue sea. The trip is off to a great start. I quickly found a small, out-of-the-way hotel (I’m one of those people who avoids crowds as much as possible when traveling, which is getting harder and harder to do). While everyone else from the boat turned right out of the port toward the center of Mandraki, I went left! My nice little hotel was just a hundred meters away, facing a pretty little Orthodox church whose red color contrasted beautifully with the deep blue sea.
I dropped off my panniers in my room so I could ride light for once, then headed toward the next village: Pali. It’s a small fishing village that apparently comes to life a bit in the summer with a few tourists.
As I pedaled along the dock, I passed right by a guy sitting in a chair in full sun. Unfazed despite the sweat pouring down his forehead, he untangled his fishing net with a precision that commanded respect. I gave him the obligatory kalimera (good morning), but he reacted like a deaf-mute—no response at all. On the other hand, his employee answered me kindly from the trawler docked right next to him. Standing on deck, he was also untangling a mess of nets and invited me aboard to chat. That’s Mohamed.
Communication wasn’t easy since he only spoke Greek and I didn’t, but he was cheerful, and his joy was contagious. He proudly showed off their catch of the day: two beautiful rays and a few brightly colored fish. We chatted like that for about fifteen minutes.
When it was time to hit the road again, I said goodbye to Mohamed, who smiled back. But this time, his boss—still dripping sweat in his chair under the scorching sun—greeted me too. Turns out he wasn’t deaf or mute after all.
I continued along the coast since that’s where most of Nisyros’ beaches are. They start lining up just outside Pali. These are black sand beaches, which can’t hide their volcanic origins.
Yesterday afternoon in Athens, I met Peter and Michelle, a Dutch-French couple, while we were waiting for the ferry to depart. The Greek sailors were on strike, so we ended up waiting about twelve hours before setting off. Anyway, we had plenty of time to chat, and Peter, who’s lived on Tilos—a small island near Nisyros—for about twenty years, told me that many migrants pass through these two islands. Most come from Afghanistan and Syria, fleeing authoritarian regimes and the massacres that come with them. They’re looking for *anywhere* else where the future can’t possibly be worse. Peter explained that you often find their belongings on the local beaches. And sure enough, I didn’t have to look far to spot some—clothes, life jackets…
I glanced around, hoping to see one of them to maybe exchange a few words, but no—no one. I was completely alone.
I got back on my bike and spent the rest of the day wandering aimlessly, just exploring this beautiful part of Nisyros. I also picked up some supplies because tomorrow, I’d be heading inland for two days, deep into its four-kilometer-wide caldera to explore the volcano. I’d be sleeping in a tent, so I needed to stock up on food. After a restful night in a real bed—something rare on this bike trip (and I won’t even mention the shower…)—I finally set off for the volcano (I’ll share details about that charming little hotel with the amazing breakfasts at the end of the journal). To reach Stefanos (the name of the main crater), I had to climb to the top of the caldera. It was hot, and some of the slopes were between 10 and 15%, which is steep, especially with a 54 kg bike. But who cares? I was admiring the scenery, and I have to say, I was surprised by how green it was. The higher I climbed, the more beautiful the vegetation became. It stood out against the blue of the sea, and the landscapes inside the island were truly stunning. So, I stopped every five minutes to take photos. Every now and then, I’d come across cows in the middle of the road—or goats in the trees! They climbed with the agility of monkeys to munch on the leaves. I couldn’t get a photo of them because they’d all scatter before I got close. It was actually the noise they made climbing down that tipped me off to their presence. Two villages sit at the top of the caldera: Emporios and Nikia. I passed the first one without climbing up to it, then continued to the second. And let me tell you, Nikia was love at first sight! I found myself pedaling through tiny streets, some barely wider than my bike with its panniers. The walls were white, and the doors were painted in all sorts of colors—green, blue, red… The streets were empty, and silence reigned. But it wasn’t a dead silence. It was more like the kind you find in small, secret, peaceful places. The village exuded tranquility, calm, and well-being. I leaned my bike—with all its gear—against a wall without locking it. It was the first time on this trip that I’d done that. Sure, its weight made it more like a tank than a bike, so you’d have to be *really* motivated to steal it, but here, for some reason, I felt completely at ease. Maybe it wasn’t the smartest move, but I go a lot by instinct, and here, it felt right. So I left my bike there and went to eat a little farther away, at a small restaurant on the village’s main square. It’s famous all over Greece for the beautiful mosaic that covers and decorates the floor. Once I’d eaten and drunk my fill, I hopped back on my bike, which had waited patiently without running off. And the best part? After riding uphill all morning to reach the top of the caldera, all I had to do now was coast downhill to the volcano. Pure bliss in such breathtaking scenery.
Hi there, or γεια σας.
When will the July schedules for Greek ferries (specifically the Prévélis - Karpathos-Sitia route, which I'm interested in) be available?
Catherine
When will the July schedules for Greek ferries (specifically the Prévélis - Karpathos-Sitia route, which I'm interested in) be available?
Catherine
hi
Are there any ferries that take cars from Turkey to the Greek islands—for example, Bodrum to Kos? Could you give me the details? Thanks
Hi there! We’re planning our trip to the Cyclades in July and I’d love to know the best place to book ferries.
Thanks in advance!
Thanks in advance!
hi everyone
It's still just a plan, but I'm considering traveling to Antalya in Turkey in autumn 2025 using the following route: - From France to the Croatian coast (route not yet defined) - "Down" the Croatian coast, Montenegro, Albania, and Greece. - Crossing the Peloponnese to Kalamata - Ferry to Kissamos (Crete) - Crossing Crete and ferry from Sitia to Rhodes - Tour of Rhodes and crossing to Fethiye (Turkey) - Connection to Antalya
If anyone has already taken this route, I’d love to hear any tips or advice. For now, I don’t have info on ferries for September and October—have you taken them? Do they allow bikes? Top
It's still just a plan, but I'm considering traveling to Antalya in Turkey in autumn 2025 using the following route: - From France to the Croatian coast (route not yet defined) - "Down" the Croatian coast, Montenegro, Albania, and Greece. - Crossing the Peloponnese to Kalamata - Ferry to Kissamos (Crete) - Crossing Crete and ferry from Sitia to Rhodes - Tour of Rhodes and crossing to Fethiye (Turkey) - Connection to Antalya
If anyone has already taken this route, I’d love to hear any tips or advice. For now, I don’t have info on ferries for September and October—have you taken them? Do they allow bikes? Top
Hi there,
My wife and I are heading to Santorini from October 11th to 18th (it’s her birthday gift). I’ll admit I’m torn between spending the full 7 days on Santorini or combining it with another island (I was thinking Milos) for 2 or 3 days. Since the ferry schedules aren’t announced yet for October, it’s hard to plan ahead.
Do you think 7 days on Santorini is too much, or is splitting 7 days between 2 islands too short? Any other destinations worth considering?
Thanks in advance
My wife and I are heading to Santorini from October 11th to 18th (it’s her birthday gift). I’ll admit I’m torn between spending the full 7 days on Santorini or combining it with another island (I was thinking Milos) for 2 or 3 days. Since the ferry schedules aren’t announced yet for October, it’s hard to plan ahead.
Do you think 7 days on Santorini is too much, or is splitting 7 days between 2 islands too short? Any other destinations worth considering?
Thanks in advance
Hi there,
I’d like to visit several islands in the Cyclades in late June - early July 2026 for about 15 days.
Stay 3 to 4 days on each one and do some hiking.
Your suggestions are welcome—islands, accommodation, hikes, or anything else.
Thanks in advance.
Twizzle
Hi there
I hope you're starting this new year with your head full of travel memories or plans!!
I’d love to spend a week in July on a Greek island with my 8-year-old son. I’m totally in love with Amorgos, but not all the beaches are accessible for him. I’ve been to Santorini and Naxos before and don’t want to go back. Would you have an island to recommend that’s not too crowded 😕, with a few accessible beaches and where we won’t have to fight to get around or park?
Have a great day Christelle
I hope you're starting this new year with your head full of travel memories or plans!!
I’d love to spend a week in July on a Greek island with my 8-year-old son. I’m totally in love with Amorgos, but not all the beaches are accessible for him. I’ve been to Santorini and Naxos before and don’t want to go back. Would you have an island to recommend that’s not too crowded 😕, with a few accessible beaches and where we won’t have to fight to get around or park?
Have a great day Christelle
