That’s what Annmarie called me. She’s the sweet hostess at Rosy’s Cafe, my island oasis on Agistri. I know I mentioned my bliss upon arrival - but there is more to be said. Agistri is one of those islands that doesn’t have a reputation. Or if it does, it’s known as an unspoken treasure. After five nights on the island, I didn’t want to leave. Paradise was spending lazy days by the sea, never knowing what time it was; floating in the salty water and seeing the bottom, clear as day, 20 meters below; eating homemade authentic Greek cuisine (Greek salads, spinach pie, Moussaka, Slouvaki); sipping Ouzo; listening to the waves crash against rocky shores while the sun set on a day well spent; boating to tiny coves virtually uninhabited; walking through the circular town centre with sandy beaches on one side and endless tavernas on the other; and getting bronzed like a sun goddess without even trying. Rosy’s Village was one of those surprises that the Universe let fall into my lap, and I am ever so grateful.
Even better than all of the bliss experienced, was being able to share it with my friend who flew from England. Frank’s Swedish skin might have been more red than golden after his 3 days on the island, but his heart was lightened by the serenity of paradise. Having someone to be a part of my adventure was so fantastic - I got to laugh at his hypervigilance to sea urchins and marvel at his ability to find the only other scandinavian people on the island to use his native tongue with. Also got to ride the ferry from Piraeus Port to Agistri a few extra times, courtesy of Frank. We both decided that Rosy’s Village and Agistri, itself, were way better than Gilligan’s Island - a slice of heaven for sure.
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