October 4: Akramitis to Lindos
Today we were to climb Akramitis, the second-highest peak in Rhodes. This was our last morning in Embonas, and I was genuinely sorry to leave. Of all the places we stayed, the one of the ones where we felt the most at home.
Manolis drove us to the trailhead near Monolithos village, where we said goodbye.
A fire had clearly swept through this forest in the recent past.
We somehow lost the trail early on and found ourselves clinging to boulders while below us, hikers passed on by with ease. Maria had assured us that the trail up Akramitis was easier than Attaviros, so why was this so difficult and scary?
Note to self: if the trail seems unreasonably climby, you are not on the trail. Go back and find it.
We finally came to our senses, clambered back down, went right where previously we’d gone left, and found ourselves on a trail that, while definitely uphill, required no use of our hands.
And it was definitely worth continuing, because Akramitis gave us the best views we had in all of Rhodes.
We were already late for turnaround, but we stayed on the summit to fly the drone.
One difficulty with pickups and dropoffs is that you have to guess when you’ll finish a hike, which can be hard to do when you don’t know the terrain and can’t even predict when you might start walking. But drivers typically have to travel an hour or more from Rhodes City, so they need ample notice. We’d guessed that we’d probably start walking at 9:30, and we added a good 90 minutes to the estimated 3.5 hour hiking time. We certainly didn’t want to have to sit on the side of the road for an hour or more. I thought 1:30 would be ample, letting us make a leisurely ascent with time to play at the summit.
On the other hand, we definitely don’t want to seriously inconvenience the people taking care of us, and we did do that. We got back to the trailhead about 45 minutes after our expected return time. This was entirely due to our 45 minutes of impromptu bouldering at the start of the hike. Our new friend Panos very graciously didn’t hold this against us.
Panos drove us through the interior of the island to bring us to the east coast, where we saw just how much drier the Mediterranean side is. Last year’s wildfires have left the landscape black and desolate.
Turning north on the eastern coastal road, we came to our new destination, the beautiful but extremely touristic town of Lindos.
We installed ourselves in Esel Suites, a small guesthouse centered around a courtyard hidden behind the whitewashed walls. The “esel” of the name refers to the donkey Benjamin that stars in a German children’s book, Mein Esel Benjamin, which tells the tale of a family that moved to Rhodes for peace and fell in love with a little donkey.
After some weeks on the road, it was time for some wardrobe restocking, so we headed off in search of socks and underwear. First we stopped for ice cream at Gelo Blue, which Panos had recommended as the best ice cream in town. No dispute here.
So, clothes shopping: Lindos is a town of narrow, winding streets utterly crammed with little shops selling souvenirs and expensive designer clothes. What you apparently cannot buy is basics. Swimsuits of all types? No problem. T-shirts featuring the Pythagorean Theorem? Sure. Plain white t-shirts? Nah. There were socks aplenty, featuring evil eyes or kitty cats or the Colossus of Rhodes, but no underwear of any kind.
Do people in Lindos not wear underwear?
Our local contacts recommended the restaurant Dionysos, so we grabbed a table on the rooftop terrace. At night, Lindos is all rooftop terraces - every building has a restaurant or bar open to the sky and visible all around. It’s a beautiful setting, and the food was good, don’t get me wrong.
But after weeks of Greek country food and unpretentious local wines in carafes or plastic bottles and not worrying how we were dressed, it was jarring to be amongst smarmy waiters and stylish crowds, forced to order elegant cuisine and wine in a glass bottle with a label. We have fine dining at home! We missed Embonas.
We agreed that Lindos was the sort of place we’d have loved as middle schoolers—atmospheric, narrow alleyways and secret courtyards behind whitewashed walls, waiters and salespeople who pretend friendship, charming souvenir shops, donkey rides. But I cannot imagine trying to navigate those streets in August! A single stroller can clog the lanes in October, so they must be impassible in high summer. If you visit Lindos in August, try not to need EMS.