Mykonos, the trendy odyssey
21 August 2017
After the Cap Ferret and Dubai and before Ibiza, Belorizon Group continues its journey on the beaches that dream. Mykonos Greek rival of Ibiza, six times smaller than the Spanish island, has become one of the most popular spots of summer clubbing.
Upon awakening, mineral water infused with a leaf of mint, and nothing else. To dress, a Bikini under a cotton gauze poncho woven by hand. It's 11am, it's dawn in Mykonos. At the wheel of a Jeep, Gwen, a 25-year-old Frenchman, follows the road to Vrysi. At the Marenga Milk Bar, one drinks green juices for breakfast, a tasteless mixture of celery, spinach and kiwi. "It detoxifies," says the waiter. Otherwise, there are gluten-free cakes. To believe that in Greece the feta has disappeared. The morning continues to the end of the world, "Alemagou" in Greek, a beach to the north of the island, more wild. Sand, surrounded by rocky cliffs, and the sea constantly dotted with white foam so much the wind blows here. Gwen finds a whole band there. One jumps to the neck shouting "Heyyyy !!! ": The American embrace is so much warmer than the French wind ... More photogenic, too; Before noon, the noisy reunion is immortalized and published on Facebook.
A two-seater mattress and an umbrella for 70euros (a reasonable price compared to those of Psarou beach), Gwen settles down and tells in a playful tone: "I used to go to Saint-Tropez, But I stopped when the DJs started to speak Russian in the microphone. She works in events and lives in the United States: "Well, the Hamptons, it's two seconds ... What I like about Mykonos is the art of living in California. Either days spent on the most remote coasts, where one surfs in kite, far from crowds. The corner of the island she recommends? "Kalafatis. It is the Williamsburg of Mykonos. No, rather the Astoria of Mykonos! She speaks of neighborhoods in New York where the young bourgeoisie migrates in search of moderate rents and organic grocery stores. Mykonos also has its bobos, lovers of vegetarian meals. As in Farma, where one sits "to connect, to become a family", specifies, without joke, the host who proposes traditional pita and garden vegetables. "From farm to plate," one reads on the front of similar restaurants that forget to specify that nothing is cultivated on these lands so arid, and that everything matters.
In Alemagou, lunch time is never before 15 hours, on cushions, around wooden tables. A blonde and tanned DJ mixes between jazz and Hindu rhythms. Quinoa salad, grilled octopus, marinated crab and salmon on the plate. No need to look for moussaka on the map. On the other hand, there are philosophic-debilitated messages: "The memories of people are the fuel they burn to stay alive," "submerge in the full consciousness" or "the soul is porous, always expanding" . Taz, the dog of one of the owners, prowls and begs for leftovers. There are few, everything is excellent. Gwen introduces us Andreas, who opened the establishment on the ruins of an ancient tavern, with two Athenian mates. The trio in hooded sweatshirts manages 75 employees, from May to September. They are in their thirties, the age of their customers, and like the same things: sun, electronic music and big waves.
On the beach, Gwen finds Emily, a Chicago model friend. The big blonde has a blues blow, a good soul rolls her a joint to help her dry her tears. At the edge of the water, many have their measurements and the same job. Men, for their part, work in finance, in London or Geneva; Most "do business" in advertising, real estate, the Web. Some of them come from Belo Horizonte, Brazil, to celebrate a bachelor party, many of their serving knights celebrate the resale of their start-up or an "app" they have just created in Mexico City. A bath and it is already the time to order a cocktail, that Gwen sips by asking a question essential: where to go to see the sun go down? The answer is obvious: Scorpios, a huge terrace on the beach of Paraga in the south of the island.
Here the celebrations are called "rituals" or "community events", commercial recycling of hippie ideals ...
Here, the parties are called "rituals" or "community events", commercial recycling of hippy ideals ... There are hammocks, Moroccan carpets and a kind of agora turned towards the sea, where one lights a Big fire when the wind falls. The sound goes up as the sun disappears. One breathes incense smoke, faceted balls are installed, the girls begin to dance. The crochet dress type net shopping bag seems to be the uniform, feathers are often stitched into the hair. This new, unmissable place in Mykonos was opened by two Germans and thought of as "an experience", says Fish, a seasonal worker from Mauritius, responsible for "customer experience".
"We can accommodate up to 1,500 people," he says. The decor changes every day, we produce every evening as a show. The artistic director, Alexandre, is French. He comes to the island since he was a child. DJ, he works this summer at Scorpios for the first time: "It is the best place on the island, with Berlin influences for music and Mexican for the decoration. On the beach, in the restaurant, in the enclosures, everything is of quality, one seeks excellence. And it's open air, with plenty of space. "
Millionaires, whose yachts anchor in the bay, meet students scooter
The more fortunate then return to their villas, some palaces for some, rented up to 25,000euros a day by the luxury concierge Magnificent. His boss, the smiling Ioannis, knows the island by heart: "True luxury is to live the moment. If natural and organic concern people today, then it becomes a luxury. "His clients are entrepreneurs, footballers, singers and actors who come almost all from the US East Coast, Israel and France. "For the last two years, we have been asked to provide gluten-free meals, massagers, yogis masters ..."
There are less eco-friendly whims, such as the ramp that you had to install in a swimming pool for a puppy to bathe in, or this dinner organized by helicopter. That evening, the most popular festival is in Alemagou, where a Berlin duo is performing. Gwen is, of course, in silk kimono. A young man, bare-chested, felt in his hand, suggests drawing on his face. " Where do you come from ? "He asks. "Everywhere," says the artist. The wind blows and all the beach dances, a crowd of white and heterosexual globe-trotters, hedonic in transit, necklaces of flowers around the neck and Gold card in the wallet. The new Mykonos.