It’s a sad fact of holiday life that the harder a place is to get to, the fewer other people there are. There are few ways to guarantee you have the beach to yourself – you can hide it either in the Australian outback or the dark side of the moon.

The Greek fishing village of Katigiorgis is not exactly that remote, but it is very hard to get to – and that’s what makes it so restful.

Its hard-to-reachness ensures there are virtually no other tourists. Apart from you.

This hamlet, on the eastern coast of a rugged and green hook of land next to the island of Skiathos and 400 km from Athens, is about as hard to get to as Thurso, on the top of Scotland, is to reach from London. Only a bit more sunny.

Sunshine is pretty much guaranteed from May through to September – so strike that off your wishlist. And there are great restaurants on the beach – well, at least one, that I know of, because I didn’t go to any others after an exquisite fresh prawns and tomato on spaghetti on the first night.

 

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Reaching our Avra Apartments that night was a blissful relief – but so was the rest of the holiday.
There was a pool 50 steps from our front door. We could see it stepping out onto our verandah, where we made and ate Greek salad (tomato, cucumber, olives, onion, feta cheese, oregano on top) and sketched the boats coming and going below or the exotic garden which surrounded us. The ubiquitous Greek mozzie was kept well at bay by the mozzie screened windows and doors except for one night when I got a bit cocky!

And as for the beaches – well, there was a lovely variation that kept surprising us through the week there.

The highest number of people on the main one, 150 yards from our front door, was nine.

A second, seven minutes’ walk away, never had more than four other people on it. It had the warmest water and the most gradual, gentle slope and the softest sand of any beach I have been on.

We thought we had found a kind of heaven – and better still, virtually no one else had, yet.
What you don’t find, is any waves. Unless you count the two-inch high ones on all of these beaches. It’s about enough for a small rodent to surf on, but not a human-sized one. They have to go elsewhere. Halleluiah.

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There was also Platanias, a pleasant beach 10km away with the added attraction of a supermarket offering real live cereal for a corn flakes addict like me. Phew.

But in the opposite direction, about 7km away, is the much less commercial Mortia, where a outcropping screen of rocks makes the beach one of the most tranquil in the whole of the Pelion.

Lafkos, 14km away from our apartment, has a serene and green square with unhurried restaurants, one serving a sweet and succulent moussaka.

But for us, this was a beach holiday with as much peace as you could wish for – and a holiday rep, Lubo, who was calm and businesslike, and available in a crisis.

So that journey from South London – was it worth it?

eyed and bouncy taxi ride to Gatwick for 3.30am a lot easier. in and boarding was quick at that time, too. For the Germania flight the knees of my 6ft 2in frame were rammed up against the metal of the seat in front, but I forgot that during the movie.
We were at Volos airport by noon, but then came the tough part: a two-and-a-half hour coach drive to Katigiorgis. If you’ve not got company or a book, console yourself with the fact that this is the bit which deters most people. The scenery was breathtaking anyway – especially if, like me, you have a pathological fear of being driven over every precipice en route by some maniac Greek thrillseeker.

But Gregory was not that. He was sensible and careful – and seemed to enjoy the gruff attempts at Greek we mustered at the end of the journey. “Efharisto” is the local lingo for “thank-you”, should you wish to follow this course of action.
After 14 hours of travelling, sensible people might want to flop onto the bed and pass out.
But we saw the cool, pale blue, enticing lagoon of a beach. And it washed away every ache and irritation you have been building up in the day so far. Then there was that delicious dinner.

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So was the long journey worth it? You betcha.

My only reservation in writing this piece is this. I shouldn’t really have told you any of this, because you might go and spoil it.

Sunvil client

Toby Porter