By early afternoon we arrived at the anchorage of Ormos Kolitzani for a swim and I was able to fulfill a promise I had made to myself more than fifteen years earlier, to return here in my own boat. I had briefly worked on the Island, carting alcohol around for the local tavernas in the 1990s.
Ios has changed considerably. While it previously catered for cash strapped party going backpackers, it now boasted facilities for a different (more mature and more affluent) clientèle.
At the port (which I remember as a slum), we found laid moorings, tailed to the quay, chic restaurants, and excellent provisioning.
I retraced my steps through the main town to the old windmills. The town had grown and it was apparent that the locals have done well from tourism over the last decade. Everything was clean and renovated.
No dilapidated houses or severed goats heads left to bleed in the sand under the mills at night this time.