From –36°C to Paradise: A Day at Vitáli, Andros

Hey there friends!

Last Saturday, while casually checking the weather app (big mistake), I genuinely thought my eyes were playing tricks on me.

–26°C. Feels like –36°C.

Let me write that again, slowly, for dramatic effect: MINUS. THIRTY. SIX.

Since we moved to Canada seven years ago, this was officially the coldest day we’ve ever experienced. And to be fair, it wasn’t just Quebec suffering — a large part of North America has been battling extreme cold, snowstorms, and ice these past days. All things considered, I should probably feel grateful that we didn’t experience a power outage like so many others.

But let me refocus.Because this post is not about frostbite.

This brutal cold had an unexpected side effect: it sent my mind spiraling straight into summer mode. Golden beaches. Sunburnt lounge chairs. That delicious, merciless Mediterranean sun.

And suddenly, one very specific day from our past holidays kept replaying in my mind.

A day so special, so unforgettable, it deserves its own title: A Day in Paradise.

Honestly, what follows is the closest thing to paradise I can personally imagine.

This particular paradise is Vitáli Beach, a wild, unorganized, slightly hard-to-reach beach on the island of Andros — the second-largest island of the Cyclades and one of the largest in Greece.

Andros has been my personal love affair since childhood. A big island, generous, green, and blessed with countless stunning beaches. But today’s post is dedicated to one beach only. The one that enchanted us, collectively, from the very first second we laid eyes on it: Vitáli.

Locals had warned us. Vitáli, a breathtaking bay on the northeastern side of the island, is exposed to the infamous Kavo Doro, known for its strong currents and powerful winds. On days with strong meltemi winds, the sea gets rough, the air is intense, and the beach is simply not enjoyable. To truly experience Vitáli, you need a day with little to no wind.

At the same time, getting there is an adventure in itself. Access is via a dirt road — not exactly friendly — which instantly elevates the whole experience to Indiana Jones: Cyclades Edition.

Because it’s an unorganized beach, preparation is key. Umbrellas, mats, a mini cooler with water, fruit, snacks… and, why not, a few beers.(Important note: just make sure the beer drinker is not the driver on the way back. Trust me. Dirt road.)

If you’re traveling with small children like we were, then yes — all the beach gear. All of it.

Another small but important detail: in Andros, you are far more likely to encounter a windy day than a windless one. Even in summer. But during our holidays, luck smiled upon us.

One rare, magical, windless day.

With the best company possible — my brother’s family — we set off in two cars, loaded beyond reason with buckets, biscuits, mats, towels (I’ll stop here, you get the idea). Armed with coffees from the bakery and still-warm, fresh pastries, we happily headed toward the legendary Vitáli.

After about an hour of driving (it would have been shorter, but we got lost — not because of bad signage, simply because we are impressively bad with directions), our heroic family cars survived the dirt road, and we finally reached the bay.

Parents traveling with young children will understand: by that point, we were already exhausted. The cars were in tragic condition. Spirits were… fragile.

And then we got out.

And we saw THIS sea.

Silence.

Complete silence.

The photos you’ll see have no filters. None. This is exactly how it looks. And in real life? Even better. An unreal beach — neither tiny nor overwhelming — with pebbles (hello, cleanliness!) and unbelievably crystal-clear waters.

The water sparkled under the morning sun. The beach was still relatively quiet (we arrived early; by midday it had filled up). Our eyes rested on pure beauty. Our ears relaxed to the gentle rhythm of the waves. Our lungs filled with that healing, salty sea air. And our souls… our souls were gently held by nature in its purest, most unfiltered form.

After setting up camp (imagine two families with small children — total chaos), we collapsed onto the pebbles and simply were. Adults and kids in and out of the water, unable to fully grasp the clarity of the sea. Swimming all the way to the mesmerizing sea caves nearby. Lying on warm stones, soaking in the Cycladic sun. Laughing. Talking. Reconnecting. Feeling deeply grateful that our children were swimming in such pristine waters.

After a few hours, hunger struck — violently. We walked to the only accessible taverna, where we ate… not exactly light food. Grilled meats, fish, cooked dishes, salads, spreads, bread, watermelon.

No comments.Greeks eat a lot on vacation.

Stuffed and happy, we dragged ourselves back to the beach like contented cows and surrendered to a glorious midday nap. Later in the afternoon, before dusk (remember: dirt road), after one last swim, we packed up our entire household (lol) and headed back.

Crazy happy. Deeply fulfilled. Full — in every possible sense.

I’m sharing these raw, untouched photos of Vitáli with you, hoping they bring a little warmth to these icy days.

And if you ever find yourself in Andros, on a calm, windless day…

You’ll understand exactly why I call this a day in paradise!

Love, Katerina