The Daily Telegraph - Saturday - Travel
The forgotten Greek island that’s luring the A-list
It is a favourite among celebrities and reclusive billionaires, yet Meganisi remains delightfully down to earth, says Greg Dickinson
An almighty “moo” echoed around the harbour, a bit like the cow sounds we make to entertain George, only 1,000 times louder. Some fellow passengers on the top deck looked over to see how our 14-month-old reacted to the bone-shaking sound of the ferry horn. He was fine. After a little jump he went back to the important task of shovelling banana into his mouth, while frowning inquisitively at the turquoise waters of the Ionian Sea.
We were on our way to Meganisi, a Greek island just a few miles off the shores of Lefkada. Its name means “big island” but, at just eight square miles in area, Meganisi is a mere olive stone in the Med. It has a permanent population of fewer than 1,200 and until the 1950s there were no roads, only donkey tracks.
But Meganisi is making ripples. In recent years Oprah Winfrey, Steven Spielberg, Madonna and Giorgio Armani have docked here, and Rafael Nadal visited this summer. Clearly there’s something in the waters. Skorpios, next door, was long owned by Aristotle Onassis (he and Jackie Kennedy got married there in 1968) and the current owner, Russian oligarch Dmitry Rybolovlev, has grand plans to turn it into a €1m-per-week private resort. Nearby Atokos is also privately owned by a Greek shipping magnate.
While its neighbours are owned by reclusive billionaires and its inlets are navigated by superyachts, Meganisi remains open for business to mere mortals like you and me. The villa company Vintage Travel added the island to its roster in 2023, bringing six new options and, with it, a stamp of approval for the destination. But as we rolled off the car ferry I wondered if we would feel out of place, and outpriced, in one of the Med’s most exclusive corners.
On our first evening we walked along pushchair-quaking flagstones into hilltop Spartochori, one of three villages on the island. It satisfied that tourist desire to find something “authentic”, and the wish to have it all to ourselves. Clothes hung from the windows of whitewashed houses whose walls seemed to sprout bougainvilleas, and seemingly surly gentlemen sitting in small groups cooed at the sight of George.
At Laki’s Taverna, one of just a few options in the village, we met a couple from Yorkshire, Ros and Robbie, who have been visiting Meganisi for decades. When they first came, only Greek firms operated holidays here and, aside from a few intrepid sailing sorts, they had the island to themselves. Tonight, the restaurant buzzed with tourists enjoying fresh swordfish cooked on an open grill, with the obligatory gang of stray cats waiting expectantly. If the staff treated Olivia and me like family, George was treated like a king. A theme was emerging.
Early the next morning, from the vantage point of our balcony, the beauty of Meganisi came into focus with the sunrise. Like its sister islands in the Ionian Sea, and unlike the drier Cyclades, Meganisi is lush, with pine, cypress and olive trees vying for space on its sloping hills that practically crash into the sea. In the distance, the Acarnanian Mountains loomed, their karst ridges shapeshifting with the light.
Zacharoula, whose family owns the villa we were staying in, plus a few others, grew up in Meganisi. They were pioneers in the business of building and renting out apartments, and others soon followed suit. Today there are around 100 in total across the island, and we spotted the concrete cuboid shells of more in development. Do the residents of Meganisi welcome the growth of tourism here?
“We like tourists – it’s the neighbours that can cause problems,” she said with a laugh. Small-town politics can exist in paradise, too.
From above, Meganisi looks like an inverted comma, or a tadpole, and all the main places to visit are congregated in its hilly little head. This means if you drive for longer than 20 minutes to get anywhere, you have probably taken a wrong turn. On the west coast we visited Il Paradiso, a laid-back waterfront restaurant set in the grassy shade of olive trees, one of which is said to be 350 years old. The staff wear T-shirts adorned with the catchphrase “the Dark Side of Meganisi”.
“It’s because we’re on the quieter side of the island. We’re a bit harder to find,” explained the German-Greek waiter, unaware we had driven just eight minutes to get there. The food here is simple but delicious (try the calamari) and the outlook is anything but dark. In the crystal-clear waters, which have drawn comparisons with Norwegian fjords, dozens of sail boats made their way to Vassiliki in a feeder race ahead of a big regatta in a couple of days time. I took George to count the boats but he wasn’t quite sure. Despite living near the sea, he has always found the crashing of waves a bit unnerving.