Sailing through the Ionian Islands is like discovering a different side of Greece — more authentic, less crowded, and even in the peak of summer, refreshingly tranquil. If you’ve experienced the Cyclades, with their iconic white villages perched on cliffs, famous beaches and buzzing crowds, get ready for something else entirely.
The Ionians, on the other hand, welcome you with lush green hills covered in pine and olive trees, Venetian-style towns with terracotta roofs, and a sea so clear it looks like a natural infinity pool. And the most amazing part: even in August, we anchored in completely deserted coves or shared them with just a handful of boats. It felt like freedom, in its purest form. No queues, no loud beach clubs, no rush — just us, the sea, and each island offering its own rhythm.
Our journey started at Marina Lefkas, where two Lagoon 42 catamarans awaited us. Aboard were 20 travellers from across Spain and other countries. Some arrived solo, others as couples or with friends, but most had never met before. That diversity became part of the magic: over the course of a week — through sailing, anchorages, onboard meals, and spontaneous parties — lifelong friendships began to form.
From day one, the boats became our floating home. Mornings started with fresh coffee and fruit in the sun, breakfast on deck, and conversations that flowed easily. At midday, we made our own meals using the best of the local markets: creamy feta cheese, Kalamata olives, juicy tomatoes, crusty bread, crisp cucumbers, sweet melon, and quality olive oil. The luxury wasn’t in how fancy things were — it was in how real they felt. Eating barefoot on deck, with the horizon stretching ahead, was one of the trip’s quiet highlights.
Our first stop was Meganissi, a small, charming island that set the tone perfectly. We anchored in a peaceful bay and had dinner at a seaside taverna serving traditional Greek dishes and local wine. But the night didn’t end there — we stumbled upon a live music bar and unexpectedly took over the karaoke. It became the first of many shared laughs and inside jokes.
Next came Ithaca, where the party really kicked off. We took over a waterfront bar and threw a private night with our favourite DJ spinning just for us. We danced until closing time. By day, we explored hidden coves where we were completely alone, and sipped cold beers at a wooden beach shack overlooking a wild coastline. That balance between vibrant nights and peaceful days was everything we needed.
One of the most unforgettable moments was a barbecue under the stars, with both catamarans rafted together in a cove that felt like it belonged only to us. The grill was on, string lights glowed softly, and the sound of laughter carried from boat to boat. That atmosphere — intimate, relaxed, perfectly timed — was something no plan could’ve created.
Athokos gave us one of the wildest moments: we swam on a secluded beach shared with wild pigs that came down from the hills to cool off. Yes, it sounds surreal, but it was real. We laughed, swam with them, and added another legendary story to the trip.
Then came Fiskardo, an elegant and picturesque harbour with a nautical vibe, pastel-coloured houses, and small, unique boutiques. And just when we thought things couldn’t get more beautiful, we reached Assos, where we had dinner in a jasmine-scented courtyard surrounded by hills. It was quiet, magical, and full of connection.
And then… Fteri Beach. Probably the most jaw-dropping moment of the trip. We floated on inflatable mattresses over turquoise water surrounded by white limestone cliffs, passing around cold beers, laughing like kids. No schedules, no phones — just nature and us. One of those rare moments where no one needs to say anything because we’re all thinking the same thing: “I don’t want this to end.”
We returned to Lefkas with our hearts full. During our farewell dinner, we shared stories, clinked glasses, and promised to see each other again. What started as a trip among strangers turned into a journey shared by a floating community — and the beginning of something that’s definitely not over yet.
Because the best part of this flotilla through Greek waters wasn’t just the route or the landscapes — it was everything that happened in between. And no guidebook can capture that.
