The success of two films – Boy on a Dolphin (1957) with Sophia Loren, Alan Ladd, and Clifton Webb, and Phaedra (1962) with Melina Mercouri and Anthony Perkins – catapulted Hydra from a sleepy, quiet Greek island with a notable 19th century naval history to the playground of the Athenian upper class in the very early 1960s and a “must visit” location for the international jet set.
This speck of rock on the Aegean, with a local population of 1,950 (in the sixties), has had a considerable influence on modern Western and Greek culture.
The picturesque, horseshoe-shaped harbor became crowded with yachts and multi-masted schooners. The stone houses climbing the steep hillsides became rental residences for the crème-de-la-crème of European, American, and Greek intelligentsia, taking their summer vacations. A few Greek and foreign artists and journalists became year-round residents.
Even now, the waterfront is still guarded by a promontory on the left with a circular cannon emplacement that has guns from the 16th century. There are crenellations on top and a stone staircase connecting the emplacement to the town through the buildings next to it.
The peripheral road to Mandraki village along the island’s northeast shore still curves around the bottom of the fortification.
Along the Harbor’s inner perimeter, coffee shops and restaurants with tan or blue awnings lined the way. In the summer, there were tables and chairs in front of them for people to have coffee, pastries, ice cream, or a grilled cheese and ham sandwich al fresco – all while looking at the colorful fishing boats that the locals keep moored at the quay.
The sea-captain mansions that overlooked the Harbor were mostly converted into season-long summer rentals. And the scent of jasmine, crawling up the stony buildings from the back gardens, permeated the evening air.
Storage spaces for fishing boats at the bottom of these mansions were either changed into shops with tourist merchandise or bars and night spots.
On the right side of the Harbor under another promontory was the “swimmer’s cave,” a large and deep cave the sea had carved out of the island’s rock. It was used as the city’s beach, and suntanned young people congregated there, not wanting to brave the long walk to the organized Vlihos beach that was more than a kilometer away.
Left and right from the cave’s entrance were cement platforms that swimmers used to get to the water. Some of the more adventurous would jump off the top of the cave into the water, which was deep enough not to present any danger to the jumpers.
On top of the hill above the cave was another 16th century gun emplacement that was also the porch of a coffee shop and restaurant.
The best internationally known establishment was the original “Lagoudera Marine Club” located in one of the converted boat storage spaces on the ground floor of a mansion near the entrance of the Harbor. It was a long, two-story space with a colorful fishing boat hanging from the rafters, and another half-boat cut at the length was used as a bar.
Popular American, English, French, and German records were constantly spinning. The owner, Babis Morres, a brilliant businessman, was instrumental in catapulting the sleepy island onto the world stage and making Lagoudera an international destination.
Brigitte Bardot, Elizabeth Taylor, Aristotle Onassis, Jackie Kennedy, Maria Callas, Leonard Cohen, George Johnston, Henry Miller, and many other personalities were frequent visitors of the island and Lagoudera. Of course, the Greek artist and literary community, including Seferis, Nikos Ghikas, Yannis Tsarouchis, Melina Mercouri, and many others were also present from spring to mid-November.
During a recent return to Athens, I found a photo of me with Melina Mercouri in an envelope with images from Lagoudera. She was a very talented Greek theater and film actress before becoming involved in Greek politics and being appointed Minister of Culture.
At the original Lagoudera, the very thick stone walls kept the interior cool regardless of the outside temperature. Right next to the entrance was a large window with a wide and thick windowsill that allowed a mattress to comfortably fit in the opening. That mattress became my perch from which I observed the world happily hungover with a brandy snifter in my hand.
I started going to Hydra with my girlfriend at that time for weekends of swimming, dancing, and fun.
There were a few 2-star and 3-star hotels in town, but it was less expensive and a lot less intrusive to just rent a room in someone’s home, especially since there were quite a few good rooms available. The problem was that the hotels required registration using your identity card or passport, and the Greek government frowned on a man and a woman – or a boy and a girl in our case – sharing a room if they didn’t have the same last name.
The villagers who rented rooms in their homes mostly didn’t care unless they were highly religious (Greek Orthodox), at which point you might get a refusal and a lecture about “fornication.” But that was very rare!
There were a few organized beaches on the island. Vlichos, a little more than a kilometer away from the main town, was one of the earliest. You could walk to it along the peripheral road that connects the main town to the island’s villages, or you could take a “sea taxi,” which was most of the time a fishing boat converted to taxi duty or a speed boat owned by one of the residents.
They made some extra money ferrying passengers to beaches when they themselves went there to swim. That was because no motor vehicles were allowed on the island.
If you had large packages or suitcases you didn’t wish to carry, there were always donkeys, mules, and horses waiting for the ferries at the harbor. I believe there was just a single truck on the entire island that was only used to carry heavy building materials and the town’s garbage to the dump.
There were many interesting individuals vacationing or living on the island. Someone I found fascinating was a Swedish journalist from Bromma. She came to Hydra for the entire summer. She smoked cigarillos, could drink a bottle of ouzo at a sitting without getting drunk, and was, I thought, an exceptional writer and photographer. She was also a gorgeous blond bombshell!
She spent most of her day banging away on a small portable typewriter, writing tell-all articles for two Swedish newspapers, a Swedish magazine, and a Danish magazine. The rest of the day was spent taking photos, swimming, looking for interesting stories, and socializing mostly with the “Greek locals.” She became my guide to the international art community, as she knew everyone.
In the late afternoon, after our swim, most of us would sit at the local coffee shops, having iced coffee, glasses of ouzo, brandy on the rocks, beer, cold sour-cherry visinada, or the Greek version of Pepsi with assorted meze.
During a recent visit to Hydra, I found that it hasn’t really changed since then. In 1966, the town’s abattoir by the harbor’s entrance was converted by Babis to The Omilos, i.e. “The Club” – a bar, lunch spot, swimming venue, and night boîte replacing Lagoudera and all the clientele moved to that new venue.
After Babis passed away, it became a restaurant with an exceptional chef.
In addition to the 2-star and 3-star hotels by the Harbor, a couple of other newer 3-star properties were adapted from large traditional homes near the top of the hill above. There are now also a few new restaurants that are more upscale with international kitchens compared to the local tavernas that at the time fed both residents and tourists.
But the local cuisine is still very tasty, based mainly on fresh fish caught that same day in seine nets, assorted seafood pried from the rocky seashore and the sand of the few beaches, as well as chicken from coops in the backyards and lamb raised on the rocky hills.
Practically every home has gardens in the back where vegetables and fruits are grown for the needs of the household. Honeysuckle and jasmine crawl up the stone walls to fill the air with their aromas.
There are new tourist shops around town, and as in the sixties, the same sort of artists, actors, entertainers, writers, etc. still come to Hydra for a weekend or an entire week. Some even stay for a couple of months. So you will still find visiting intelligentsia enchanted by Hydra and often becoming permanent residents, making it a beautiful and fascinating place to visit.
Manos Angelakis is one of the founders, the former Managing Editor for 25 years, the current Managing Editor Emeritus, and Senior Food & Wine Writer of LuxuryWeb Magazine. He is an accomplished travel writer, photographer, and food and wine critic based in Hackensack, New Jersey. As a travel writer, he has written extensively about numerous cities and countries. Manos has also been certified as a Tuscan Wine Master and has traveled to wine-producing areas in order to evaluate firsthand the product of top-rated vineyards. In the past year, he has visited and written multiple articles about Morocco, Turkey, Quebec City, Switzerland, Antarctica, and most recently the South of France. Articles in other publications include Vision Times and Epoch Times.
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