On a hot summer day, the streets of Volos* do not invite curiosity. But on a cool evening, late September like tonight, I am eager to explore the numerous small shops lining Dimitriades Street and the other tiny side streets threading through the town.
A shop no bigger than a living room lures me in. There, cheeses, Skopelos prunes, almonds and other delights are heaped high in big bins and burlap sacks. The next block, all the motorcycle shops live—Yamaha, Kymco, Piaggio and SIM. Why I was actually thinking of the SIM Classic for a purchase next year. The doors of the SIM shop gap wide open, it’s around 7 pm and a cordial dark-haired young salesman makes it easy to step inside. He explains the 4-stroke engines, ALS versus CLS brake systems, prices—almost 2000 euros for the SIM Classic I like. We chat for half and hour, I sit on the bike and it feels good, stable but not too big. Across the way the Yamaha store offers four stories of motorcycles—scooters on first, 125s on second and full-size motorcycles, the road bikes peered out of the show windows on floor 3 and 4. Amazing—an entire apartment house full of motor bikes and motorcycles.
I go on, exploring the back streets and tiny shops, strolling into a large plateia (plaza) where the church, Agios Elefteros, sits and tiny shops spread out opposite. I step into a shop no bigger than a stall which offers socks and undershirts only. I pick up a 3-pack of socks for just one euro. Three doors down, a slightly bigger enterprise sells bras, swimsuits and underwear. In the next block, I can’t resist a shop selling ribbons and wrapping paper. I don’t need either but the colors and textures draw me in. How can such a shop make a go of it, I wonder. Further down, I wander into a store selling pencils, paper, tablets (the old-fashioned kind) and children’s books. Around the corner, a beach towel shop displays an array of towels in bright citrus colors—10 euros each. I buy 5. A shop packed with industrial kitchen supplies—pots, pans, plates, cups—catches my eye. Everything is cheap. It’s summer’s end and everything must go.
Maybe the port policeman I spoke to this morning was right. When my ferry was cancelled due to high seas, feeling desolate, I asked him, “When will the next boat sail?” He answered: “Weather’s getting worse in the night. You won’t get out until Friday.” Then, adding brightly, “Enjoy Volos!” Arghh! But enjoy it I did. I went back to Skopelos on Thursday as it turned out, a day earlier than predicted but with a warm feeling for Volos town and my car full of bargains.
* Volos is the closest port on the mainland to Skopelos, a 2-4 hour ferry ride depending on which ferry you take. It’s a bigger town than any on Skopelos so many islanders make regular trips there to stock up on provisions or tend to business.