In a secluded bay on the island of Skyros, Sophie McLean discovers a transformative holiday where art, community and introspection collide, drawing together strangers of all ages in search of connection, creativity and something deeper than just one’s self-esteem…
It’s nearing 10pm and I’m swimming in a small bay off the island of Skyros in Greece. It is the middle of July so the sun has only recently set, and despite there being eight of us in the water, the only real sound comes from the lapping of the gentle waves as we gather, and an accompanying high pitched rhythmic whine of the summertime cicadas. Beneath us, as we tread water, and swirl our hands into the salty, dark liquid abyss, a sort of glitter emerges, a bioluminescence that gives the sea some sparkle under the night’s similarly inky, star-filled sky.
It takes a full day to travel from Athens to Atsitsa Bay on Skyros. I’m sure this is a deliberate move by the organisers. It turns out you can also fly here directly from Athens, but somehow, starting off in the foyer of a capital hotel to board a bus, then a boat, then another bus and then another boat means you take in your surroundings just a little bit more. Slow travel. Sit, talk, watch the sea rush by, the colours of the houses on the islands come in and out of view. Inhale the ferry diesel fumes and taste sugary ice cream being simultaneously wiped off a child’s face.
We arrive at circa 8pm to this alternative creative and wellness holiday destination, greeted by the week’s facilitators and ‘work scholars’, attended by returning visitors and newbies alike since 1979. The website says they welcome guests aged between 5 and 85, and that around 70% are aged between 35 and 65 – an inclusive space I conclude, then, for intergenerational friendships to form. I nervously find myself in a group of 45 ‘others’, mostly women, quite a few of them single, through circumstance or choice. Many married. Many divorced. Some who have grown-up children. Some here with their children. Some with friends. Some solo travellers like myself, curious to make connections.
As the week progresses, through a variety of activities that ensures face time with most of those in attendance through our daily classes, talking check-in oekos (from the greek word ‘home’ or ‘family’) groups that take place post-breakfast, swimming in the bay where in-depth conversations often happen, chopping vegetables for lunch or doing the dishes, these ‘others’ turn into people where life stories, adventures and intrigue is shared. A couple of my favourite of these people are in their 70s – successful, curious; human. Former teachers, bookshop owners, executive coaches, chartered surveyors, oil engineers, operational whizzes.
Combined experience is colourful, complementing the core activities that are of a similarly creative or playful nature, though by no means a skill pre-requisite. Highlights include things like kayaking, yoga, singing, dance, astronomy and Faldenkrais – awareness through movement, that on the week I am here is instructed by PHD student and programme director Tiana Harper, whose first encounter with Skyros Holidays was fifteen years ago, when, like many who attend, she says she was going through a ‘transitional period’, post divorce.
Seven and thirteen night stays here run between the end of May and the end of September, with some guests choosing to spend back-to-back weeks here for much of the operational period. Accommodation is mostly in basic eco-huts, shared or solo, which means showering under the stars and sleeping on single beds under mosquito nets, but there are also options to stay in bedrooms in the main house, more luxurious rooms in a purpose-built villa, as well as a basic but comfortable hotel that overlooks the local taverna and rest of the Skyros Holidays site.
A massage hut offers muscular respite from travel or thoughts from a seasonally-changing resident therapist who uses locally sourced products to soothe the heart and mind. Food is collegiate, creative and wholesome – a highlight of being here, where you don’t have to think or plan ahead. Evening excursions to the town and boat trips are also organised to explore more of the island and its people.
Each participant can choose two core classes during their stay. I elect ‘Writing Yourself Whole’ with author Tom Kelly, a white-haired soul-stirrer who draws on our inner psyches through literary technique and years of his own focused study on the philosopher Jung. I also take on ‘Painting and Drawing’ in the searing heat of the afternoons, a name that doesn’t quite give justice to Jo Morley’s more abstract ‘trust the process’ approach to creating wild and wonderful works of art, using our Greek waterside surroundings as a muse, working to achieving something that takes our art well beyond a more conventional comfort zone. To push beyond my own even more I also choose to try Ukulele, taught at 7am on the beach each morning taught by effervescent Claire Healy – formerly musical director for the Australian production of ‘Six’. The first song we learn is ‘Paperback Writer’ by The Beatles.
Founded by former husband and wife Yiannis and Dina Glouberman, their initial premise still carries weight amongst the people who steer their continued programme today. Glouberman still teaches at the centre, due to arrive here the following week, gathering a group of almost double the size of ours. Her daughter Chloe is with us for a few days, keeping the family connection prevalent when not living as an actress in L.A. She tells me her mother arrived here feeling “she had ‘no self esteem’ but knowing she had ‘soul esteem’”. It is this principle as well as a desire for finding a space to create community that seemingly drives returning visitors to Skyros year after year. “I’ve met some of my best friends here,” says one of the other participants in our writing class. Another chap I meet has been here 24 times since the age of 24, then thanks to an advert in i-to-i magazine discounting guests under 30.
With this community spirit in mind, the ‘demos’ (from the word democracy) sessions in the mornings after breakfast do feel a little like school assembly, but evenings here are a sociable affair, if that is of your choosing. Unlike other retreats I have been on, here there is a bar that overlooks the water and provides excellent sunset views for taking in with a glass of local beer or wine. A pub quiz on the first night encourages a little ice breaking and sounds the academics out from those of a more popular cultural persuasion.
A desert island discs night sees attendees share personal stories over music that holds powerful memories – Stormy Weather by Lena Horne (or Etta James), Make me smile (come up and see me) and Self-Esteem are just a few of the tracks and artists on rotation this evening. There is dancing. And storytelling. Blondie-lookalike, Chelsea-based artist Annie who has been coming here for 20 years cracks open her Harmonium. The final night concludes in a participatory cabaret where we also celebrate a birthday before coming together to say our goodbyes.
As evening descends and most go to rest before an early morning departure, eyes cast up towards The Plough, illuminated above us in the clear night’s sky. This is a constellation once used by sailors to help them find the north star, safely navigating their way forwards. I have a note in my phone from my time spent here that says ‘to know the stars is to recognise realities that go beyond the daily flux of things’ which I’m almost certain is a quote from the book I am reading while here ‘How to Be: Life Lessons from the Early Greeks’ by Adam Nicolson.
Skyros Holidays is certainly one such alternative reality.
For more information on Skyros Holidays, including details of destinations and holiday courses, please visit www.skyros.com.
Photos by the author, and courtesy of Skyros Holidays
