Travel Writing Awards Entry
By Aine Carlin
Flying dangerously low over hotels and houses as we came into land, Rhodes looked a lot different to how I imagined. Better in fact. The sea looked glorious and it looked very quaint and very Greek. ‘I’ve done it again’, I smugly thought to myself, remembering the cheap holiday I’d found several years previous in Lanzarote. So, as we waited for our luggage I was excited and very much looking forward to our week ahead.
A few moments later we encountered our first problem. The cash machine in the airport didn’t seem to accept our card but we weren’t overly concerned as we knew there would be dozens of cash machines in our final destination – Faliraki. Now, I don’t want you to get the wrong impression of myself or my lovely boyfriend. Despite appearances to the contrary, we are not hardened clubbers, binge drinkers or louts and our only reason for choosing Faliraki was cost and boy did we get a bargain, or so we thought!
370 pounds will buy you two economy seats, a self catering room plus transfers and we were more than happy with that. You see, all we want from a beach holiday is, not surprisingly, a beach, – although it must be sandy – sun and a few nice local restaurants that serve cold beer and decent food. So, with our basic needs catered for you can imagine we were rather taken aback by the greeting at our hotel, which consisted of a drunk teen at the entrance and another casualty on the corridor leading to our room. Both a little shocked we dump our bags and promptly head for that infamous town to find those cash machines.
Faliraki is a very sad little town. The walk from our hotel along the main strip, Club Street, was a dusty, hot and ramshackle place with more than a vague resemblance to the abandoned and rundown seaside towns in Britain. ‘Blackpool with sun’ is a cliché that is uttered time and again about similar holiday resorts that have seen better days but it’s actually an accurate description of this once clubbers hotspot. It didn’t get better on Bar Street, which is where most of the clubs are situated but as it was 7 in the morning when we arrived we had yet to discover the true glory of this street!
It was to our utter relief that a little corner of Faliraki beach was to save our doomed holiday. If you make the effort to walk to the very end of the very long beach to Faliraki harbour you will encounter what I believe to be the only truly Greek experience to be had in this tiny and dilapidated town. The view to the gorgeous, almost toy like Greek Orthodox Church, St Nicolas’, never tires and the clear, refreshing Mediterranean water is the perfect antidote to any busy London life. The nearest bar, which we nicknamed ‘Tom Jones’, because the guy who owned the place loved him, serve the coldest beers you’ll find in the near vicinity. Be sure to order the Greek beer Mykonos. There is a wonderful, almost secret cove a moments walk from the official beach called Kathara-Bay Beach, which you’ll find quite stony but fantastic for snorkelling and exploring. It is this small area alone that I would recommend. No less for the views, clean sea and hot sand than for the presence of real Greek tavernas serving genuine Greek fodder. A favourite was the Gyros Pitta, which consisted of either pork or chicken wrapped in a gloriously crispy pitta along with fresh salad and chips.
It is very hard to avoid the nightlife in the centre of the town and be prepared to harassed along Bar Street. Bring ear plugs if you don’t want to end up with tinnitus, as the music is pumped out of the clubs is so loud it’s impossible to even distinguish what tune is being played. I do have to admit that the one night we did venture out was fun, as we ended up in the tackfest that was the Q Club, which played cheesy pop and where you can dance the night away to 9-5 and Grease medleys.
Lobby’s Bar was where we mostly hung out because the cocktails were ridiculously cheap (pina colada and sex on the beach for only 2 euros 50 cents each) and the best you’ll find anywhere. It also helped that the staff were fantastically warm and friendly, which brings me on the people of Faliraki. They are amongst the nicest and most spirited you’ll find in any holiday resort and it’s incredibly hard not to feel for them, when their once thriving businesses are now empty and losing money at the rate of knots. But it does not have to be all doom and gloom, as there is the potential to revive Faliraki again and make it more successful than before. There are so many eastern Europeans and Germans now visiting this place and if the money is invested wisely there is no reason why it has to remain a dwindling clubbers paradise but could be a more upmarket and classy place altogether.
When I think of my holiday I am so glad my memories consist of my toes in the sand and hot sun on my face. I lit a candle in the little church, which has the most exquisite iconography that is a must see, and I said a little prayer that Faliraki would rise again and be the holiday town it never was, without drunk youngsters and throbbing music but with a quiet understated charm.
