No Dismantling of Mykonos Party : GREECE

Start trying to unravel all the gods, goddesses and just plain journeyman heroes of Greek mythology and one soon finds them entangled in machinations, feats of derring-do and labyrinthine love affairs that make those of any television soap opera look like simplicity itself. Mykonos is a good case in point.

Greek legend describes Mykonos as the grandson of the mighty Apollo and a hero in his own right, although nobody seems to know why. Whatever, they named the place after him.

What is known with some degree of certainty is that in its 4,000-year history, the island has been occupied by Phoenicians, Cretans, Turks, Byzantines, Venetians, Romans and perhaps even Egyptians leading the pack.

So why, after all the crazy carryings-on and changes of ownership over 4,000 years, has Mykonos become what some claim to be the St. Tropez or Capri of Greece? Finally, we get a simple, irrefutable answer: glorious weather, beautiful beaches, dark blue seawater one could write letters with, and a nighttime action scene that would make Capri and St. Tropez look to their laurels as world-class meccas of hedonism.

Arriving in Mykonos during July and August can be likened to elbowing one’s way into Rome’s Sistine Chapel during the same period; there’s hardly room to fall down. They come from the planet’s four corners: jet-setters, backpackers, family vacationers, cruise-ship Sinbads and dedicated Sybarites of every persuasion.

Though old Greek hands are wont to say that the place isn’t what it used to be, Mykonos still has the color, charm and vitality we found here in the ‘50s: cubist houses of blinding white clinging to barren ochre hillsides above town; azure bays worthy of a Homeric ode; serpentine alleys six feet wide weaving past still more whitewashed houses and shops that, by decree, may have only their doors and windows painted in color.

Now toss in a few ancient windmills with tattered blades of canvas on a hill above town, about 350 small basilicas crammed with smoky icons, a host of cafes where a bottle of retsina wine may be downed for a pittance and what’s to complain about?

Friendliness and good spirits are an indelible adjunct to the character of most Greeks, and those of Mykonos who wait tables and man shops manage to keep theirs intact through the chaotic days of July-August. The only surly citizen we’ve ever met here is our old nemesis Peter the Pelican.

Peter has held forth as the town mascot since the Peloponnesean Wars, skulking morosely behind fishermen’s nets by the harbor, staring balefully at us with not one more ounce of friendliness than he showed on our previous visits.

He’s had his picture snapped with a slew of celebrities, and plastered on post cards and posters. He struts around like a petulant peacock and accepts any tribute offered to stash away in his pouch. But he’s just another boorish bird in our book, hardly worth the fish he’s fed.

Peter aside, the bottom line on Mykonos is that, while it once drew visitors merely by its proximity to the holiest-of-holy nearby island of Delos, it now beckons sun seekers and revelers as one of the loveliest and liveliest of the Greek isles.

How long/how much? Anything from two days to two weeks is fine for Mykonos, depending upon one’s time and holiday agenda. Seasonal lodging remains scarce, but it’s inexpensive. Dining on marvelous Greek food is a laughable steal.

Getting settled in: Innkeepers Michael and Roz Apostolou (he a local, she a Connecticut transplant) have done a superb job with their Hotel Mykonos, a lovely place of typical Cycladic architecture on a hill less than a 10-minute walk down to the harbor at village center, even less to a sandy beach.

All 32 rooms have balconies. Island flowers are everywhere; bougainvillea cascades down walls. A few antiques are scattered about, and the lounge-bar-breakfast room is as bright and cheerful as one can imagine. There are also suites with five-star amenities, including bathroom Jacuzzis.

Hotel Leto, a two-minute walk from town near the cruise-ship dock, sits in a veritable arboretum of island trees, shrubs and flowers. A covered terrace overlooks the gardens and sea, and there’s a tiny beach just a few steps up the road.

Leto’s dining room serves solid Greek fare, and its location gets you away from nighttime revelry in the village.

Theoxenia, a motel-like, spread-out affair, sits on the windmill hill above town, with room balconies, terraces and a great view of the sea. Bedrooms, breakfast room and bar are all of contemporary design, with breakfast and other meals served either inside or on the terrace.

Regional food and drink: Greek meals always start with mezes (hors d’oeuvres), our all-time favorite being tzatziki --a yogurt, cucumber, garlic and olive oil mixture to bring joy to the gods. Equally delectable are the bit of okotapodi (octopus) and calamari (squid) marinated in vinegar and herbs.

Seafood menus are endless on Mykonos, with some of the staples being fried squid, grilled octopus, swordfish, fangri (an Eastern Mediterrean whitefish) and barbouni , a succulent red mullet with zillions of tiny bones.

These denizens of the deep, and kebabs or roasts of lamb, beef or young goat, are perfect partners for the Greek salad: tomatoes, cucumbers, black olives and slivers of onion, all doused with olive oil, a splash of lemon juice and oregano.

If retsina, a resin-flavored white wine, is an acquired taste, then we acquired it on the first cold glass and will settle for nothing else. Ouzo, an anise-flavored liquor, is the local lamplighter, usually taken with a splash of water to accompany the mezes .

Good local dining: Katarin’s is a sure bet for typical local fare (addresses are meaningless in Mykonos’ maze of alleys, just ask directions). Dine inside or at tables that barely squeeze into the alley on the freshest of seafood, grills, keftedes (Greek meatballs laced with oregano) or old favorites such as moussaka (eggplant and minced meat casserole) or pastitsio (the same of minced meat and pasta), both served with a bechamel sauce. Katarin’s is the current spot for those in the know. Plan on paying about $10 per person, plus wine.

Restaurant Qioupia is a modern inside-outside dining place on a small hill at village center, where owner Fratzescos Vigliaris has put together a formidable menu of almost any Greek specialty one can name. Most mezes run in the $2 range, with such as moussake ($2.50), octopus salad ($3.50) and fried squid ($2.50) heading a list that includes roast lamb and veal ($4) and plenty of seafood. The most expensive thing on the menu is baked or grilled shrimp ($7.50), so your wallet will love Qioupia.