Prolog
Since this page is one my most popular journals I've decided to add a prolog since I am not 100 percent sure why it is so popular. Kos a beautiful Greek Island located in the eastern Aegean. It has beautiful beaches, clear water and interesting Greek, Roman, and Turkish ruins. In antiquity Kos was Achepeletes, god of medicine and healing, primary sanctuary. Pilgrims from all over Greece would go there for healing. Well, the ancient Greeks have been replaced by modern tourists. The tourists are there to worship two ancient deities. Helios, god of the sun, and Dionysus the god of wine, dance, and music. This is the story of the "modern" worship of Dionysus on Kos.

    Greece has a minor problem. It is called mass tourism.  The entire world it appears has discovered Greece and the Greek islands. And the entire world seems to travel there each July and August during the height of summer.  Now the Greeks are could be extremely smart, focusing the brunt of the tourists on islands such as Mykonos , Santorini , Ios, Rhodes and Kos. so they can have the other islands to themselves. However, some say they are extremely stupid by focusing this brunt on those islands because the Greek focus has been lost and replaced with an artificial atmosphere built on sun worshiping during the daytime and lecherous lustful bar hopping in the evening and early morning.   On my first visit through the eastern Aegean I knew that I would be traveling to the some of the most touristy islands and that they would be nothing like the laid back, and relatively tourist free (if you know where to look) Ionian islands.  I was shocked at what I found on Kos. 

            I arrived in mid afternoon from Samos. , a good 3 or so hours late due to rough seas. Which was probably a sign that Kos should be avoided. Poseidon was sending a message that this island is no longer a “Greek” island but a “Tourist” island.  My initial impression was mixed. The dock is right next to a picturesque police station and a castle built by the Knights of Saint John, both situated to defend the harbor form attack. (The fortifications have undoubtedly been replaced by ground to surface and ground to air missiles located in one of the militarized zones in the middle of the island, which I did not visit). This was quite scenic and picturesque. I am sure something not missed by the seemingly millions of tourists that lined the beaches under beach umbrellas that went on beyond infinity. After a fiasco where one hotel owner blatantly lied to me about his location (an unGreek trait on most islands) I checked into a hotel where I was shocked to see a sign stating that visitors were forbidden. The true meaning of the sign would become apparent later on that evening. I had a quick a quick list of things to do on the island. Walk around the castle and ancient town and the harbor area and then go for a quick swim (it is mandatory to go swimming for each day you spend in Greece.) Then take a quick nap and observe the nightlife of the town.

            In walking through town I was shocked at the number of people out shopping. The streets were packed at 3 p.m., which is a shock because on most of the islands that I had visited, most shops were closed for the afternoon siesta, and most tourists were either smartly asleep, or at the beach. This was not the case. People were shopping for all the cheep stuff, and not so cheap, seen on many of the Greek islands.  However, this was to benefit my picture taking and sight seeing.  The ruins of the Agora were fairly barren of people and the castle likewise. When I went to where the old Greko-Roman houses were, there was no one there as well. Then I went for a swim on the beach, after finally finding a place where there weren’t’ a million umbrellas.

            My plan for the evening was simple.  Eat dinner, and then go to a “disco” on the Bar Row my guidebook mentioned.  Normally in Greece you can identify how expensive a restaurant is by the cost of the Greek Salad on the menu. I found a very picturesque, terraced taverna in which the waiter was very unhappy I was alone. The price seemed reasonable so I ordered a salad and a soda. My salad was about 1500 drachmas. My soda was 1200 drachmas an expensive three bucks. Apparently the tavernas here are hip to that trick.  The service was horrid, I attributed it to the fact I was alone and quite clearly unwilling to spend any money.

            After dinner I watched the sunset and wandered around the shopping district for a little bit eyeing stores.  I then wandered over to the infamous bar row.  My guidebooks description was simple. An ever changing array of discos that try to play their music louder than their neighbors.  It also didn’t recommend any of them because it called them seasonal. What seasonal means is they open for three months, charging exorbitant prices (for Greece) and then close down for the winter months.  There were a few other features that differed these establishments form others that I would quickly learn.

            The layout was a simple triangle of three streets with bars lining both walls. It was still early by Greek standards (nine thirty or ten) so they were still relatively uncrowned.  I wandered up or down mainly people watching and instead of looking for a place to hang out which was a good people-watching place.  All of these establishments had four things in common. First a D.J. playing extremely loud music, often interfering with the harmony of the music in the bar across the street.  Secondly, there were neon lights everywhere (One of my rules in Europe is to avoid neon lights in tourist areas). Third, over priced drinks (for Greece). Lastly, they all had at least one herder. In the days of ancient Greece a herder was a person who kept sheep or goats in one given area. In modern Greece a herder is someone who directs people into a bar. This is one job that you do not have to be a Greek to get, at least not in 2001. In fact it is preferred that you are not since they are essentially paid under the table at the end of the night and the bar owners seem to fire them on a whim.   

On Rhodes there was a person who was working as a herder and a dive instructor at the Hostel I was staying at. It was from him I learned about herders: That they are mostly foreigners. That they are paid under the table. And that they can be fired if the owner wants. He told me a story about working with two young women. The owner told one of them to tell the other she was fired. When the first girl refused, the owner told her, “Fine, you’re fired too.

In order to keep their jobs the herder needs to first convince a prospective client to enter the bar. After that is accomplished the herder then needs to convince the person to buy the overpriced drinks. The more expensive the drink, the better. Some herders are very good at their job, others just stand there and let people walk on by (and are often out of a job at the end of the evening) The smart herders often do tricks such as juggle balls or spin a tray to get a perspective patrons attention and the very smart ones prey on members of the opposite sex. I was doing a good job avoiding them until I ran into Mel.

   Mel was a Dutch girl who was fairly average in terms of looks though she did have green eyes. She did a good job of herding and I fell for her hook, line and sinker. >Her “Stitch” to draw people in was a serving tray. She would spin it on her finger, her head, even throw it in the air and catch it.  Once she had your attention she would start talking to you, being very friendly. I don’t remember what she said she did but she must have had a degree in psychology because as she talked she would get closer and closer to you, making you feel more and more relaxed. Finally she would offer to have a drink with you. SHe of course would drink for free but you had to pay. Very overt but it works. 

It turns out that Mel was actually a cool girl and she sat and had a drink with me a while then went to work her magic on another bystander.  And another. And another.  She was good. The bar wasn’t in a bad place either on one of the three corners.  As I drank, and talked with Mel I watched the activities of the area.  In the hours or so that I sat out I saw three “party buses”, groups that would go through select bars taking a shot or have a drink and then, move onto the next bar.  These groups where made up of mostly college age students and they became progressively more and more drunk as the evening went on.  Most people were dressed up to impressive, and a few, very drunk, very sloppy people even Mel avoided talking to.  As the evening the streets were getting more and more crowded.The bars were also getting more and more packed. It was a hassle to move around. But I had my steady stream of drinks, from Mel of course, so I was happy. AS it got later I saw street venders start to make the rounds among the party goers. Some sold flowers. Some took pictures of people who just hooked up. Others even sold condoms. 

Around eleven or so the people watching was getting old so I decided to go dancing in one of the clubs.  I figured since I had just spent the better part of an hour outside of “Mel’s” bar I should go in and see what sort of music they were playing.  The bar was in the middle of the dance floor with ropes hanging from the ceiling. Mel and another herder quickly demonstrated the use for these ropes as they jumped up on the bar and began to dance on the bar, dangling from the ropes.  I would later learn the only reason no one came to ask me for a drink is they saw me drinking outside.  The bar I was in actually had a very cool staff, which I learned was not the norm. Unfortunately the music that was playing was non palatable so I decided to hop across the street where it was a western bar playing 80’s retro.  This place was packed. Four dancers on the bar, three more were hanging from ropes above the two back “tables.”  The waitress asked me if I wanted a drink and already quite buzzed I declined.  I danced for a bit and the same waitress asked me again. I declined again. She then whispered in my ear that in all of the bars you had to order drink.  So I had a drink and I seemed set for the night. Again, I would learn that these waitresses were very cool unlike in other bars.  I stayed here for the rest of the night mainly because I liked the music. After filling my quota of one drink the waitresses didn’t seem to mind me staying for the rest of the night. I think because I was the one guy that did not make an ass of myself.

The people dancing on the tables and bar would rotate in and out and so would the crowded.  I eventually got sick of being a sardine I took a quick walk around. I noticed that some bars were desolate wastelands. Others were packed to the brim.  The herders were all busy at work. I went back to Mel’s bar, where I was promptly asked what I wanted to drink, and a few others. I was a bit more selective, only choosing bars where I liked the music playing. 

    I am not really sure how many bars I spent any significant time in. I do remember that I had a good time that evening. A really good time. I would from bar to bar depending on the music. After a while I was tired of the eighties music so I went to a bar playing hip hop and then another playing Ska. I generally went into bars based upon the type of music they were playing and the amount of people in the bar. After all, nobody likes do dance alone. Not being the heavy drinker, I did try to avoid buying drinks as much as possible. After all, I wanted to have fun, not feed the fish.

    Choosing a dance partner tended to be a free for all during the night. Swapping partners from song to song. Guys would ask girls and girls would ask guys. Some more "open" people would just come up and start "dancing" with complete strangers with out asking. By one A.M. it was one, large bacchanalian party. Needless to say, I did have fun but I also managed to keep my morals intact.

 I think for the night I ended up in a couple other packed bars, before I called it quits for the night.  The next day was uneventful. I rented a bike and went to the ruins of Askeolises primary temple.  The archeological site of the temple was fairly awesome with temples from all three major periods of antiquity. Kos does have very well preserved ruins.

After I visited the temple I took my bike around the southern coast to see what else the island had to offer. I must have ridden about 10 miles from Kos town before the string of resorts ended. And that was for only one reason. The south eastern apart of the island lacks any suitable beaches which must be the only thing that saved it.  I finally found a beach where there were not a million people for a swim and then returned for a nap.

The early evening was so unremarkable.  I went shopping for presents.  I had a cool beach towel with a white tiger my aunt would love.  I later saw this towel on every island I would visit.  By this time I figured that this was not a “Greek” island. There was no one of Greek decent here except perhaps the shop owners.  When I walked into a shop the first language spoken to me was English. (The language of tourism).  I decided to have some fun. I started to go into shops and start to speak Greek.  My accent must have given away that I was not a native Greek speaker.  However, I got several startled looks before they would start conversations with me in Greek. Mostly trying to sell me something but it was harmless fun. My dinner was a picnic on the waterfront. In my wandering I found a coffee shop by the old Turkish bizarre (not the new agora). I was shocked. There were Greeks playing soccer in the streets. Their parents were watching them from the overhands of coffee shops. I sat down for a frappe (my addiction) and I was not brought the bill instantly. I am sure ordering in Greek helped with that.  On most of the touristy islands I have experienced that you are brought the bill with your drink. A very unGreek custom.  I sat and wrote in my journal awhile and for a moment felt like I was back in Greece. People were speaking Greek. Hanging out (not getting drunk like on bar row) It was a slightly odd scene with all of these Greek speakers in the shadow of a minaret.

            Now If I was smart I would have gone back to my room and read a book, or gone to sleep. I had seen the infamous bar row. Had a bit of fun but also saw its lecherous, wasteful side. However, my hotel room was stuffy and small and there was no one to watch so for some reason I decided to go back.  I was going to do some quality people watching, perhaps dance for a bit but go to bed by 1:00. I had a 7:00 A.M. flying dolphin the next day and I really wanted to catch it to get off this godforsaken island. It was about 10:00 already so it meant three hours. I also was not going to get drunk; again to be sure I was on that boat and off the island at 7:00. I went to the far side of bar row, the side that actually boarded the ancient agora because I had not spent very much time here the night before. It was dead, compared to the night before which happened to be Saturday.  I went to a different bar to people watch, mainly because of the unpalatable music from “Mel’s” bar.  I had a drink outside and was vastly disappointed by the people watching. By 11:00 I wandered around for a bit, noticing places that were the places to be the night before were completely dead. The herders were all hung over from the night before and not as energetic and their numbers were greatly diminished.   There was only one bar with anyone in it that I liked the music in. So I went there and had a drink. One thing I quickly learned was this place was not like the others. I put my drink down and it vanished. I had also wandered over to the other side where the waitress accosted me to get a drink. I told her I had just had one from the other waitress. The other waitress confirmed this. No more than one song later the same waitress demanded a drink. Same routine.  I quickly moved on over to the safer side and danced for a bit. Then the same rude waitress came up to me and told me to get a drink. As this was going on, several groups would come in for a drink, then leave. There was one guy who kept ordering and ordering drinks. In the span of 45 minutes he must have ordered 10 drinks. This did not help my cause of not drinking and drinking. The rude waitress finally caught up to me and demanded I get a drink. She didn’t buy my story I had already had one.  The bartender then told me to get out.  Apparently you were only welcome if you kept drinking. I decided to take off and wandered a bit to cool off. Bar row now made complete sense. You had to get completely smashed to stay anyplace and have fun and if you weren’t going to spend money they didn’t want you. Now the 80’s bar was very cool to me.  I ended up going there for a bit but it wasn’t as happening as the night before. The waitresses were a lot friendlier though.  But I am guessing a lot of the other places are a lot like the one I got kicked out of. I did know one thing as I walked away, the next time I came back to Greece, the bar, waitresses and bartender would be long gone but the island would still be there.

Guide Books |  FAQs |  Photos for Sale |  Travel Essays |  Links
Contact info: