Venetians and Franks called it “Argentiera”, because of its silvery grey rocks. Yet for thousands of years it has been known as Kimolos to its inhabitants, an indication of their undying admiration for this unique place that manages to capture their hearts and minds. It is often said that a place largely defines a person’s character and disposition.
This seems to hold true for Kimolos: its beauty – not in an excessive, overwhelming sense but in a human, approachable and simple way – wins you over effortlessly and quietly like a good friend. Proud, white rocks, etched with fine, grey lines, rise up towards the clear blue sky.
Grey – blue hillsides sweep gently down to the sea, ringed with the dry stone walls which stand as a testament to the hard struggle for the “daily bread”. Stone in every possible and unimaginable hue – the product of volcanic anger, shimmering pebbles and golden sandy beaches sparkling in the sun, all ornamented with a scattering of humble vegetation which, like the people here, are stoically engaged in the battle for survival.

Dark green olive trees and sweet – smelling lentisk, slender vines whose golden fruit sweeps to kiss the ground, aromatic herbs and delicate flowers, brilliant white lilies growing in the sand and prickly bushes, heather and tall reeds, nesting grounds for God’s feathered creatures, and low – lying caper bushes with dainty flowers, all form part of the stage setting for the islanders’ arduous life.

Here you will find whitewashed houses with basil-fragrant courtyards standing side by side like good neighbors, low walls beckoning to tired passersby, arches and covered passageways, winding streets with flagstones outlined in white. And all of this, natural and man made, are embraced by the shining salt – smelling sea: an uncut diamond left confidently in God’s hands. «Kimolos, my paradise» say the people of Kimolos wherever they find themselves, never missing a chance to go back home to their beloved island for a visit.