Banish all thoughts of Mykonos, this is the Greek island you should visit this summer

Syros isn’t trying to impress you — yet it delivers on everything that matters: culture, history and some of the best food I’ve eaten anywhere in Greece.

Think of the Cyclades and you probably picture whitewashed walls, choreographed sunsets and places designed for the camera — selfie sticks and all (shudder). Syros is refreshingly uninterested in any of that. It’s not that it isn’t beautiful. It is. It just doesn’t seem particularly bothered whether you notice.

I arrived slightly off-script. On a neighbouring island, the wind had picked up — still bright, still blue, but enough for whispers of ferry cancellations. The ferries, of course, ran anyway. What should have been a simple hour from Paros to Syros became a four-hour round trip via Athens after I missed my stop — thanks to two drowsy travel sickness tablets I had optimistically taken for what I thought would be a rough crossing. A mistake I would not recommend repeating.

Finally, slightly dishevelled and mildly furious with myself, I disembarked the ferry — relieved to find not the heaving crowds of its neighbouring islands, but something far calmer: a place that felt, immediately, lived-in.

A quick drive through Ermoupoli — the island’s main town — and I realised this was unlike anywhere else in the Cyclades. I should caveat here that I have very high standards for Greece, thanks to a Greek friend who has spent years dragging me across the country to the very best beaches, tavernas, bakeries, caves and un-Google-able spots. I like to think I know my Cyclades from my Ionian, my Aegean from my Saronic, but Syros surprised me — in the best possible way.

It is, technically, the capital of the Cyclades and was once even considered a potential capital of Greece itself. In the decades after the War of Independence, Ermoupoli was built almost overnight by refugees and merchants, becoming one of the most important ports in the eastern Mediterranean. Wealth followed — and, unlike on many other islands, it stayed. You see it in the scale of the buildings, the marble staircases, and in the universities that draw some of the brightest minds in the country, imbuing the island with a sense of energy.

You should spend your morning wandering through the town. Start in Miaouli Square, all symmetry and pale stone, before ducking into the Apollo Theatre — a scaled-down echo of La Scala — and then lose yourself in the narrow shopping streets. Here, you’ll find loukoumia, a local delicacy: softer and lighter than Turkish delight, often flavoured with rose or bergamot, a legacy of the refugees who settled here after 1821. There are excellent coffee spots alongside traditional bakeries, where trays of fresh bougatsa emerge still warm.

Head to Kois Optics for designer sunglasses, then upstairs, to the mansion on top of it. Stavros — the owner — will usher you in like an old friend and start to tell the story of his family home, a well-preserved 19th-century house that probably hasn’t changed a lot. There are painted ceilings, gilded furniture and a ballroom floor still marked by the faint scuffs of his grandparents’ parties.

The Church of St Nicholas — known locally as ‘the rich’ — reflects the island’s unusual mix of Orthodox and Catholic influences, with interiors that feel closer to Renaissance Italy than traditional Greek iconography. Beyond the town, the island opens up: smaller villages, quieter beaches and stretches of landscape. In Posidonia, grand villas reveal the island’s maritime wealth, while local beachside tavernas serve the kind of unfussy, deeply satisfying food that Greece does best.

Hotel Argini sits in Vaporia — the old shipowners’ quarter — where neoclassical houses line the sea in soft pastels and stone. The hotel occupies a mansion built in the 1850s by Grigorios Paikos, a businessman and member of a revolutionary society instrumental in the successful fight for Greek independence. It was a house designed for a family of 11 and for a life that involved entertaining — all generous proportions and rooms built for conversation.

Like much of the town, it was eventually left to deteriorate before being brought back by the Polykretis family, who chose to restore rather than reinvent. The owner grew up next door, returned to renovate his family home, then took on this building too. Years of careful work followed: repairing ceilings, restoring paintings and preserving original features under strict heritage regulations.

Image 1 of 4

The original marble staircase remains, worn in places; the ceilings — painted by Italian and Greek artists — have been restored without losing their character; and in certain corners, fragments of the building’s past have been left visible. The layering of old and new is both fascinating and considered.

There are only 11 bedrooms, which makes it feel more like a house than a hotel. The standout rooms — including the former ballroom, now a suite — retain the building’s most impressive features: those painted ceilings depicting figures from Ancient and modern Greek history, tall arched windows and balconies overlooking Vaporia and the Church of St Nicholas. It’s grand, but not overdone.

Downstairs, former cisterns and working spaces have been transformed into a hammam and indoor thermal pool carved from rock: low-lit, vaulted, almost cave-like. We were brought wine and fruit, which felt both indulgent and entirely necessary. It’s private, quiet and, I suspect, very romantic.

I am deeply committed to Greek food in all its forms — I could happily exist on a diet of gyros and loukoumades — but here, familiar flavours and traditional dishes are reworked. A 24-hour fermented bread with Syros butter and truffle taramas; orzotto with shrimp, fennel and ouzo. Yet it still retains that family-run warmth — dishes arriving generously, one after another, until I was slightly concerned I might have to be rolled off the island. I even had my third-ever memorable non-alcoholic cocktail, which feels worth noting.

Ermoupoli is not preserved for visitors. Students, shipowners, shopkeepers and families all exist side by side. Orthodox and Catholic churches sit within walking distance of each other, their histories layered rather than separated. It is a place built by refugees, shaped by trade, and still very much evolving.

Syros doesn’t try to sell itself to you — but it succeeds anyway.

Rooms at the Argini Hotel start from €300 per night on a bed and breakfast basis. Visit the website for more information and to book.