Sometimes it takes stumbling into a small port in the middle of the night and realising you’re on the wrong island to discover a little piece of magic. And while you’re in this mess, have a party with the locals, too.

Folégandros, you’ve unexpectedly and serendipitously stolen my heart

This island is a little-known secret, one I’m not entirely sure I should be sharing with the rest of the world! I arrived in Folegandros purely by mistake, but now that I think of it, planned by fate, and infused with luck.

Having got off at the wrong port after a 6 hour boat ride, sometime between the hours of 12 and 1 am, I was invited to stay at one of the local village’s B&B. The owner, who had noticed my bewildered expression as the boat sailed off without me, had seen this happen many times before, and offered me one of his beautiful rooms.

If you’ve ever heard of the term Serendipity, this was definitely one of those fate-had-our-back moments that created an evening I will never forget.

A condition to me staying at the small Bed & Breakfast was my presence at the Village party.
A once a year, religious celebration that had the whole town out for the night. It couldn’t have been more magical if I had conjured it up in my imagination. Strings of fairy lights, musicians, locals holding hands and dancing in the center of the plaza. Children were running around, albeit at 3 am, with their parents sipping Oozo, the local drink, laughing and singing along. It was like a scene out of a Hollywood movie. Everything looked staged, yet it all was so real. The genuine joy of everyone around could not have been more contagious.

The authenticity of the people and the greek way of living shone through this small village town. A string of piazza’s connected to one another, all nestled between churches and local shops made it feel as if I had gone back in time.

After leaving the party at what was considered an early time (3am) I went back to bed, exhausted from the days adventure but excited to see the island during the day.

“Travel.
Make memories. Have adventures.
Because I guarantee that when you’re 95 and on your death bed you won’t think about that flashy car you bought, or the twenty pairs of designer shoes you owned. You will think about that time you got lost on your favourite island, the nights spent falling in love under the stars and all the beautiful people you met along the way. You’ll think of the moments you felt truly alive. And at the very end, those memories will be the only valuable possessions you own. ”