Island-hopping is for backpackers and binge-drinkers; if you want a real Greek holiday, the place to go is Koroni, Messenia, on the southwestern tip of the Peloponnese. It’s an old town — founded by the Greeks before Christ, absorbed into Byzantium, then squabbled over by Ottomans and Venetians. Its geography is ancient history: Olympia to the north, Sparta across the bay, and Nestor’s Palace, Corinth, Mystras and the amphitheatre at Epidaurus all nearby. Yet Koroni feels somehow young and unbothered. Sit in one of the cafés or bars along the harbour, and it seems like a jolly seaside town from the 1970s or 1980s — unpretentious and touristic enough to be easy to enjoy, but unspoilt.
The hotels are mostly small and uncomplicated, with the recent arrival of a few ‘boutique’ establishments, to use the travel industry term. The taverna owners are eager for your custom, naturally, but they are not pushy or grasping. Visitors mingle with friendly locals. I know a fellow called Takis — the owner of Takis’ café — who spends all day scampering back and forth across the bay waiting on tables, and never stops saying ‘Yassou, yassou’ to anyone who’ll listen. He might be the most cheerful fellow I’ve ever come across.
One eats well, too, here: usually simple, reassuringly cheap Greek fare and seafood. If you walk away from the waterfront, down one of the narrow side alleys, you can find the ‘Souvlaki Shack’ — a shabby but delightful restaurant run by two slightly dishevelled brothers. The wine is disgusting, the menu nonexistent and one sometimes has to share a table. The souvlaki, fried potatoes and Greek salads are delicious, though.
Things are magically quiet in Koroni and many other parts of the Peloponnese. It’s as if the gods have ordered the volume down. In fact, it is the politicians, not the deities. Having made such a spectacular mess of just about everything else, Greece’s leaders seem determined to get things right here. Strict environmental regulations have preserved the countryside, and the tourist authorities have ensured that most of the beaches retain a natural character and a sense of calm — unlike the gaudy carnivals you find on the sands of Rhodes or Corfu.
Greece’s economic crisis may actually have prevented Koroni and its environs from becoming another heaving Faliraki. A few years ago, the Greek government, with substantial EU support, invested heavily to make the southernmost points of the Peloponnese more accessible. A motorway from Athens to southern Messenia was completed and they allowed easyJet to run flights into Kalamata. Messenia’s tourist trade seemed ready to soar.
But the financial crisis seems to have slowed the process, and now Peloponnesian towns like Koroni exist in a curious limbo: suspended between being major tourist destinations and peaceful backwaters.
It is a happy limbo, though, and a happy place. If you want an easy and affordable break from the world, I can’t think of anywhere better.