Imagine the perfect Greek island, a pristine enclave of slow tourism that’s remained unchanged for decades. Along the curve of a narrow bay whitewashed buildings line a quay, a rocky mountain face rearing up behind them. On the opposite side of the bay nestles a sleepy fishing village, where brightly painted traditional fishing boats are tied up in a marina. Small yachts moor along the quay where ferries dock a few times a day, bringing visitors or returning locals to the island.
Now imagine a procession of multistorey cruise liners docking here. Cruise liners that hold up to 1,400 passengers each when the entire permanent population of the island is about 2,000 people.
This is the threat currently looming over the unspoilt Cycladic island of Amorgos. It comes, paradoxically, after Greek prime minister Kyriakos Mitsotakis said he would address the rampant over-tourism on islands such as Santorini and Mykonos. He said the numbers of daily visitors would be limited and there would be higher docking fees for cruise ships. Mitsotakis declared himself to be “very concerned about the image on some of our islands … due to cruise ships”. But it seems the unintended consequence of this strategy may be to drive this unwanted traffic to as-yet untouched islands. Like Amorgos.
A sense of impending doom hangs over Katapola, the island’s port. The local mayor, Eleftherios Karaiskos, is planning to fast-track a plan for a cruise liner terminal, a 7,000-sq metre concrete extension of the quay to include parking for cars, trucks and tour buses directly between tavernas and their sea views. Many residents feel powerless to stop the proposals; when asked, a local shopkeeper looks across the bay, shimmering in the hot pinks and oranges of a spectacular sunset, and shakes her head sadly. “I just want to look at this beautiful bay. While I still can.”
Amorgos is majestically elemental, a rocky landscape with sparse vegetation. There are no rivers or streams, so water is scarce. What little water there is, is carefully collected in reservoirs. In dry years – which are increasingly regular because of climate warming – water can run low or even run out, highlighting the need for expensive desalination plants that have yet to be built. Stony beaches can only be reached by climbing down steep slopes. This inaccessibility appeals to independent travellers who frequent the island, but there are no real tourist attractions for cruise ship day-trippers.
Picturesque Chora, the island’s capital in the hills above Katapola, could be entirely overwhelmed by an influx of thousands of visitors. Then there’s the island’s famous Hozoviotissa Monastery. The second oldest monastery in Greece, it has remained in splendid isolation for more than a millennium and can only be reached by climbing 350 steps up a sheer cliff face soaring up from the sparkling Aegean. The cave-like interior can accommodate a maximum of 50 visitors, at which point its steep passageways become impassable.
In terms of access, the bulldozing of illegal roads behind the monastery and elsewhere on the island during Covid lockdown was successfully halted after an appeal by the islanders to the regional authority of the South Aegean Managing Authority and the Greek Ombudsman independent authority.
The budget for the cruise line terminal would be provided by European structural funding known as ESPA for Transport and administered by the Greek government, according to the Greek ministry of shipping website. But Rania Thiraiou, secretary of the local association of hotel and rental owners, says: “The irony is that if this cruise ship terminal were constructed, it wouldn’t benefit the local economy.”
She adds: “Once the new port is completed – after years of construction and the resulting devastating impact on tourism – it would most likely be sold or licensed to a private operator, as happens on many other islands. Their principal aim would inevitably be to maximise the revenues derived from cruise liner business. The local use of the port will have been hijacked. The interests of the local people will hardly be a priority for an unaccountable private company.” And the logistical challenge of moving masses of tourists around a rocky island with no obvious attractions for the cruise ship day-tripper will render this cruise liner hub an economic white elephant.
The local opposition party Nea Pnoi presented its own proposal for port improvements in early October to a packed public meeting in Katapola. Its vision is to continue welcoming independent travellers and improve local amenities while steering clear of mass tourism. It is committed to keeping the ecological impact to a minimum, leaving the adjacent sandy beach untouched and providing parking on the periphery of the port as opposed to along the waterfront, thereby preserving its unique character. However, unless the mayor’s proposal is stopped by legal action it will proceed when government monies earmarked for it are released within the next year or so.
Amorgos today is in many ways a very progressive island. The local fishers’ association, Hozoviotissa, has led an initiative called Amorgorama to clear up plastic on island beaches that are inaccessible by land. They have also encouraged a moratorium on fishing in April and May – the spawning season – allowing fish to thrive, with dramatic results. The group’s work has been recognised, and they have been invited to present their model internationally. In addition, over the last five years local volunteers have been restoring the ancient, paved stone donkey paths that crisscross the landscape, for hikers. There have been dance performances on remote rocky beaches, jazz festivals in the port’s botanical gardens, and many artists – including the late author Hilary Mantel – have found the unique quietude of the island inspirational.
This summer, for the first time in decades, the port of Katapola was visited by dolphins – a powerful sign of how successful the hard work of the locals to preserve the magic of their island has been.
