1998 was the first year I came to Symi. I was with my husband. We loved it. We visited beaches by taxi-boat, we walked to Nimborio through the sweet scent of herbs, and we took boat trips. We tried to visit the museum in Chorio but our timing was off on both occasions so it was closed.

There were few cars, apart from taxis, on Symi then. The road to Panormitis had not been finished beyond Chorio but was a rough, rocky gouge through the scenery, waiting for hardcore and tarmac. We were told it had been like that for years. A lorry drive took us down to Marathounda, stopping off at monasteries for coffee and fantastic views on the way.

The scenery was stunning and the greenery of the island’s interior was a surprise. As the lorry rattled along, dust flew up and by the time we reached Marathounda we all had an extra sunscreen of finely powdered rock. A swim in the bay washed it away. Apart from a wandering donkey, there was nothing much happening at Marathounda beach that day, so after a picnic on the beach, we had a peaceful few hours before we sailed back to Yialos.

In the evenings, we visited many bars and restaurants, drinking in the atmosphere and cooling down from the high June temperatures.

It was a sad day for me when we had to return to the UK. Seldom had I felt so at home in a place and now I had to leave. Returning to a holiday venue was something we never did. The world is so big, how would we get around it all if we did that? But Symi kept calling well into the winter months, so in May 1999 we were back in Symi, loving every minute. We did a lot more walking that year as well as many things we’d done the year before.

We learnt about the ruined houses and that many were being claimed and then sold, and how there would soon be a line drawn under claims and plots would be sold. Though I believe that never happened. We tried all the restaurants we’d missed the first year as well as a new one that had appeared. Again, it was hard to leave, but we knew we’d be back on Symi either later that year or early the next.

Fate has a way of slapping you in the face doesn’t it? We were planning to come to Symi in May 2000 but in April 2000 my husband died. So began my wilderness years. After 12 months or so, I travelled on my own to Peru and in following years, to South Africa, Cuba, Alaska and places nearer home in Europe. I often thought of Symi but I just couldn’t face a visit to the place where we’d been so happy together. Maybe a time would come when I could. In 2006 I almost came to Symi but ...couldn’t. Would I ever get to see Panormitis?

Please see Part 2