Boat Trip to Karvounolakos and Alimia

There are places you don’t reach, you earn. On Iraklia, the westernmost and most untamed island of the Small Cyclades, two such destinations are called Karvounolakos and Alimia. No road leads there. No sign points the way. Only the sea, calm in the morning, lets you pass.

You board a boat from the small harbour of Agios Georgios, and the island begins to reveal itself from an angle few have seen: steep slopes, caves piercing the rock, waters that change colour every few metres. This is the other face of Iraklia, the one that doesn’t fit into a photograph taken from the road.

The road that doesn’t exist

Iraklia doesn’t have many kilometres of asphalt, and that’s part of its character. Karvounolakos and Alimia lie on the western, wilder side of the island, where nature has made no compromises. This isn’t a lack of infrastructure; it’s how the island itself is shaped, full of ravines, rocks and steep passages that keep these shores far from wheels and engines.

And so, access becomes a one-way route: the sea. A caïque that circles the island, or a boat you hire for the day, is the only way to reach where almost no one else does.

Karvounolakos: the black gold of the coastline

Its name recalls coal, and that’s no coincidence. The pebbles here have a dark, almost metallic sheen that reflects the light differently than any other beach in the Cyclades. The water, by contrast, is so clear you can read the seabed like a map beneath the surface.

There is no umbrella, no beach bar. There is only the sound of waves breaking on the pebbles, the air carrying salt and thyme, and the feeling that you’re somewhere time has stopped counting.

Alimia: the wilderness that embraces you

A little further on, Alimia opens up like a secret cove in the rock. Its name most likely comes from the tamarisk, the shrub that withstands salt spray and grows where nothing else dares. It’s a beach that asks nothing of you; it simply lets you be there, alone with the sea and its sounds.

The water at Alimia has that deep, almost turquoise hue found only on shores untouched by anything human. You swim and feel as though you’re discovering something that still has no name on most tourist maps.

The boat trip as ritual

The journey by boat isn’t merely transport; it’s part of the experience. As the vessel glides between headlands and small coves, you watch Iraklia change face every few minutes: from the calm waters of the harbour to the more open, wilder passages of the western coast.

Many visitors combine Karvounolakos and Alimia with a stop at the Cave of Agios Ioannis, the largest cave in the Cyclades in terms of scale, thus closing a circle between the island’s underground mystery and the open, sunlit beauty of the shore.

On Iraklia you don’t go where you want; you go where the sea lets you.An old fisherman of the island

Why it’s worth the effort

In a world where almost every beach has a road, a car park and a sunbed, Karvounolakos and Alimia remain stubbornly inaccessible. It’s precisely this difficulty that makes them unforgettable. They aren’t beaches you visit; they’re beaches you earn, step by step, stroke by stroke, until they let you in.

And when you finally dive into these waters, you understand why no one has ever left Iraklia without passing through here. It’s the part of the island you remember most, precisely because it wasn’t easy to reach.