During the Peloponnesian Wars, Milos was the only island in the Cyclades to remain neutral and not join the Athenian alliance.  Apparently, neutrality was not respected back in the day (take note, Switzerland) and avenging Athenians invaded Milos in 416 BC, massacring all adult males and enslaving the women and children.

Milos has recovered marvelously since then.

The locals were extremely friendly (I’ll post soon about Greek attitudes towards tourism and Americans), and started conversations with me whenever I stood still long enough.  I’ve found that my camera is a great conversation starter.

A fisherman named Poseidon–who looked straight out of central casting–shouted to me from his fishing boat as he worked on his nets.

Poseidon:  What are you called?!

Me:  Beki.  What’s your name?!

Poseidon:  I am called Poseidon

Me:  You’re king of the sea!

Poseidon:  No, I am god of the sea.

Me:  You look like everyone’s idea of a Greek fisherman!

Poseidon:  Some people say I look like St. Peter.

Me:  You do! But he was a fisherman too!

Poseidon:  Do you want to come on my boat?

I was surprised he spoke english so well, because with his bushy gray hair and long beard, he appeared to be older than the usual english-speaking age.

I saw him walking along the pier later, with his hat-less head, long shorts, and bare feet, he looked for all the world like an aging California hippie.

Even the tourists in Milos were friendly.  A Swiss girl named Nina came up to me in a cafe and asked if I could give her a ride back to the port.  We had a great dinner together and she turned out to be from my favorite Swiss town–Lauterbrunnen.

I also met a terrific Brazilian couple on the boat excursion around the island and the wife went on and on about how much she loved the US:  “I love the perfection of everything there, you know?”

I looked at her quizzically.

“Like Disneyland”, she said, “perfection.”

Finally I got it.  “Yes, I understand now.  I think Disneyland is perfection too, especially Fantasyland.”

She said Brazil had descended into crime and polluted waters but that the tourist board was keeping it a secret from the world to preserve the illusion of an unspoiled Brazil.

I found a cheap, yet great room for 20 euro a night.  When I asked the owner if he needed my passport (its custom in Europe to hold a passport until checkout), he chuckled and said no.  When I asked if I should prepay him, he again said no, and told me to leave the money on the day that I left.  He shook my hand and wished me a pleasant stay as he left the room, not even asking for my name.

Even though Milos is larger than the other islands I’ve been too, with at least double the population, there were still sheep in the middle of town and I was still woken up by the roosters cockadoodledoo.

I’ll post photos when I get a photo glitch worked out.

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