An ancient Greek historian and a hangover made me go to a deserted island

What happens when you take travel advice from c.400 BC? What happens if you act on that advice hungover? I found out on my trip to Athens a couple of years ago.

As an ancient history grad focusing more on all things Greeks than those boring Romans, I’d long wanted to go to Greece and my guide for this trip would be ancient historian of the Persian War Herodotus.

(Pics are all my own)

Of course no trip to Greece would be complete on the mainland alone. The Greeks of old were seafaring peoples whose world revolved around the Aegean Sea.

So did I go to the famous Santorini with it highly Instagramable sunsets? Did I hell! I instead set my sights on the nearby Aegina.



The island is best known for its Temple of Aphaea, a local deity closely connected to the better-known Athenian Goddesses of Athena and Artemis.

The island's role as a trade centre meant that the weights and measures developed by Aegina became the standard all over Greece.

Herodotus also tells us that fleet sent by islanders to the battle of Salamis, one of the most important clashes in western ancient history, fought hardest among the whole Greek contingent.

So after a long Athens night of heavy drinking and partying with some Canadian oil workers from my hostel (Pics missing) I managed to drag my hungover ass down to the docks and onto the ferry to Aegina.

I like to travel during the off season. For one thing I’m Irish and not great with heat and the flights are much cheaper. So I was making this trip in October. As a busy capital Athens still had plenty going on but once I landed on Aegina it became clear there where not many non-locals (or even locals) in town.

Still, I managed to navigate the bus up to the temple that sits atop the island and offers stunning views.

The sea air even went some way to clearing the cobwebs from last night out of my sweaty head.

I had booked the cheapest hostel possible on the other side of the island from the main port for about €5.

With darkening clouds threatening to unleash a rainstorm down on my aching head. I trundled down a fun little dirt path and into a ghost town.

It seemed the whole Eastern side of the island was shut up for the season and what few locals where around only pointed to a deserted construction sight when I enquired about the location of my hostel.

Sweaty under the weight of my backpack, with my head pounding and raining drops beginning to plop on the hot tarmac around me I figured the best thing I could do now was find a bus back around the main town in the hope of finding a cheap hostel.

A quick trip around and slice of Irish charm managed to land me in a cheap, beautifully air conditioned hotel room just in time to beat the rain and take a much needed nap.

The weather had cleared up that evening in time for a dinner of octopus and Greek salad before heading back to sea early the next morning.

This is my first post so I’d love any feedback!