citinotes
Cosmopolitan Queen
Let’s embark on an imaginary journey to Greece. It is the summer of 1843, and we are setting sail to explore the Cyclades. The sunset signals our departure from Delos island. Hastily closing our history books, we eagerly hop back on the boat, anticipating another island steeped in its past.
As the boat approaches a new land, the horizon reveals a bustling harbor with boats of all shapes and sizes. Leaning on the rail, our curiosity piqued, we observe a bustling scene on the quay: merchants energetically peddle their goods, buyers engaging in spirited haggling, porters loading and unloading commercial boats, and newspaper sellers proclaiming the day’s headlines. Stepping onto solid ground, the air is rich with the scents of fish, tobacco, and freshly ground coffee. The blend of languages resonating across the harbor conjures the enchantment of a true Babel’s tour. Just a few hours from Delos, it feels like we’ve fast forwarded from prehistory to modernity. Welcome to Ermoupoli, the capital city of Syros island.
Although older than Homer, Syros made history in the 1800s during Greece’s war of independence against the Ottoman Empire. During this period, a series of pogroms triggered a significant migration from the Eastern Aegean and the Turkish coast. Hundreds of Greeks from Smyrna (modern-day Izmir), Chios, Samos, Psara, and various other places sought refuge in the neutral haven of Syros.
Most of the newcomers, predominantly merchants and sailors, arrived with little to lose. Focused on business, they capitalized on Syros’s strategic location in the heart of the Aegean Sea—a historical bridge connecting European merchants with Asian markets. Initially, they constructed ships to support the war effort with wheat and ammunition. Soon after, they expanded their fleets, built a new port, upgraded the shipyard, modernized the customs building, transforming Ermoupoli into the largest commercial and industrial hub in the Eastern Mediterranean.
The island’s growth significantly elevated the living standards of the locals. New, expansive commercial streets adorned with marble became avenues for ladies to showcase their delicate heels and for gentlemen to stroll in their polished loafers. Renowned architects from abroad, such as Ernst Ziller, were enlisted to design luxurious buildings. The grandiose architecture seemed more fitting for a Western metropolis than for a small island on the edge of Europe, especially in an area where urban plans tended to harken back to the Middle Ages.
Starting in the 1850s, French and English writers began visiting the island out of curiosity, eager to witness the “miracle” everyone in Greece was talking about. Ermoupoli was already evolving into a melting pot of civilizations, described by writer Georgios Mazarakis in his travel journal as “a real Pan-Hellenic mosaic.
Théophile Gautier (1811 – 1872), among the distinguished visitors to the island, vividly paints the lively portrait of a city in full bloom. It is a metropolis where the quays resound with the clamor of tradesmen, well-dressed waiters serve Italian-style gelatos in French cafés, and violins serenade patrons attired in velvet and silk waistcoats.
With a port welcoming up to 120 steamships annually, the island boasted a global market, one of the most prosperous in Europe. A brief stroll allowed people to discover a plethora of foods, spices, and multi-ethnic condiments. They could select Venetian lace or fine English tweed for the next city ball, or freshen up with rosewater before settling into an elegant French-style café for a refreshing beverage. In his captivating novel, “The Time of Chrysanthemums” (“Ο καιρός των χρυσανθέμων”), Greek poet and renowned songwriter Manos Eleftheriou (1938 – 2018) beckons readers into some of the most exquisite boutiques adorning the gleaming streets of Ermoupoli, the cosmopolitan Queen of the seas.
Citinotes
chapter 1
A buzzing trade center
In the morning, we arrived at Syra. When viewed from the harbor, Syra bears a resemblance to a downsized Algiers […]. Numerous vessels of varying shapes and sizes unfurled their black sails against the backdrop of the town’s white houses, clustering along the water’s edge. Canoes moved joyfully to and fro, and everything—water, earth, sky—seemed to overflow with light […]. Boats approached ours with vigorous rowing, creating a regatta with our vessel at its center.
Before long, the deck was teeming with a group of robust young men with sun-kissed skin, hooked noses, intense eyes, and formidable mustaches. They offered their services with a demeanor that seemed to say, “Your money or your life!” […]
The quay is lined with shops of all kinds: fishmongers, butchers, confectioners, cafés, restaurants, taverns, tobacco shops etc. creating a vibrant tableau. The scene is constantly alive with a diverse array of people: sailors, porters, buyers, and curious onlookers from various countries, each wearing their distinctive costumes.
The boats seem almost within reach from the shore, and there exists a close, intimate relationship between the land and the sea. It’s a scene filled with joy and picturesque charm. […]
Feeling a bit weary from the bustling surroundings, we sought a place to relax and headed to a café with reclining chairs outside—typical of Syros, where people prefer spending their time outdoors. We were treated to lemon gelatos, surpassing those at Tortoni and equally delightful as the ones served at the Bolsa café in Madrid. […]
After thoroughly savoring this marvelous sight, we allowed ourselves to descend like an avalanche into the city, concluding our evening on an open-air dance floor overlooking the sea. There, we enjoyed cigarettes and sipped on lemonade, all while listening to a Hungarian band playing selections from Italian operas.
A few women, attired in the latest French fashion, strolled along the embankment with their husbands or fiancés, passing numerous tables and chairs. Among the latter, the traditional fustanelle skirts (note: a traditional pleated skirt-like garment) of the young men drinking coffee or blowing bubbles in their hookahs couldn’t be missed.
Before us, the sea sparkled with the lanterns of ships; behind, the lights of Syra adorned the purple mountain with golden specks. It was truly enchanting.
chapter 2
Young, cosmopolitan and restless
Syros stands as one of the pivotal trade centers in liberated Greece, boasting a population that mirrors a true melting pot. A genuine Panhellenic mosaic, where encounters range from someone hailing from Acarnania (a region in west-central Greece) to a former citizen of Constantinople, alongside individuals from Tripolis (a city in the Peloponnese peninsula), the Ionian Islands, or Chios, and beyond. […]
Γεώργιος Ι. Μαζαράκης,
Τριών μηνών αναμνήσεις, 1885 in Μάνος Ελευθερίου, Η Σύρος στη Λογοτεχνία, Μεταίχμιο, 2003.
We sense ourselves amidst a burgeoning civilization of young people recognizing that the future is theirs to shape. […]
Everywhere, people are toiling, struggling, and earnestly pursuing their aspirations. […] They possess a vibrant faith—not the passive faith of a fatalist waiting for fortune to arrive, but the spirited faith of those who understand that if the mountain won’t come to Mohammad, then Mohammad must go to the mountain. They rely solely on themselves.
Certificates of citizenship were provided to Greek immigrants who fled the burning of Smyrna (today’s Izmir) in 1922 to become citizens of Syros. Photo taken at the Industrial museum of Ermoupoli, Syros.
Framed picture of a family of immigrants. The population of Syros was formed by generations of immigrants fleeing conflicts or pogroms, from 1820 to 1950. Photo taken at the Industrial museum of Ermoupoli, Syros.
In the 19th century, payment receipts were designed as artfully as the products themselves. This is an old receipt of Nikolaos Valmas’ paintshop. Photo taken at the Industrial Museum of Ermoupoli, Syros.
Enfield E8000, a battery-electric city car entirely produced in Syros. The car was considered an industrial breakthrough of the ‘70s, in a country with no prior history in automobile construction. Designers and engineers worked on wooden molds made by carpenters of the nearby shipyard. Source: Wikimedia Commons.
chapter 3
An elegant shopping walk
Four months before bidding farewell to the island, Mr. Pinas decided to take a break and wander around. He contemplated a visit to the renowned photographer George Pangiopoulos’s studio, seeking advice on what he and his wife should wear for their upcoming photo session to capture the best pictures they’d ever taken. […]
Next door stood the fashion house of Nikiforos Neochiritis, its window adorned with two well-posed male mannequins and a collection of faded Parisian fashion journals. On the store’s shelves, the most exquisite English fabrics, carefully wrapped in blue cloth to shield them from discoloration and dust, awaited eager patrons. Small bags filled with lavender, intended to ward off moths, accompanied the fabrics.
Following was the store of Eliza Valvi. Here, apprentice dressmakers diligently worked on the latest fabric samples and buttons, sewn onto colored pieces of paper, each adorned with its price tag. In addition to Eliza, four other girls were busy crafting belts, buckles, pink and light blue baby clothes, and, predominantly, hats, all under the watchful eye of Mrs. Fervonia Vaka, Eliza’s older sister.
Together with their third sister, Aspasia, and her son-in-law, they embarked on European travels almost every twenty months. During these journeys, they brought back laces for wedding gowns, silk scarves and socks, silver candy boxes for weddings, paper flowers, velvet, brocade, felt for women’s hats, ribbon and piping for dresses, bottles of detergent for cleaning silks, and large brooches for securing hats in the hair, among other treasures. Their storefront, arguably the most exquisite in town, showcased a stunning bride draped in organza and lace, standing on a carpet of enamel flowers.
Next in line was the perfume store of Isidoros Malatestas, a slender, solitary figure who seemed perpetually aged and had the air of someone who had seldom ventured far from the depths of a dark, humid city basement. Always clad in the same black suit with the thinnest white stripe and a bow-tie adorned with a pearly white collar.
The street consistently exuded the scents of lemon and rosewater. The perfumer wouldn’t allow anyone to pass by the store, whether acquainted or not, without extending an invitation to drip one or two refreshing drops on their palms.
At the back of the store, there lay the laboratory adorned with immense, shiny brass cauldrons and ovens whose smoke permeated the atmosphere with delightful fragrances […]. Malatestas’s nephew […] meticulously attaching multicolored tags with beautiful gold print to elaborate crystal and glass bottles, then carefully placing them in special boxes for shipping across the country.
Adjacent to the perfume store was the candy store of Evdokimos Pregkas, famous for his candies that boasted original designs, their colors, and exceptional taste. Twice a year he crafted spoon sweets (note: fruit-based sweet preserves, served in a spoon as a gesture of hospitality) from grapes, quince and aubergine. Known for his aversion to arguments and a reluctance to haggle, if a client displayed even the slightest hesitation or disdain due to high prices, he was capable of immediately withdrawing the products.
Syros for gourmet lovers
Check-out some of our favorite food markets in town.
