Mykonos is

Sun kissed skin and salty strands of hair that twirl in the breeze of the boat rides – those overflowing with eager tourists and seasick passengers attempting to check every beach off of their must-see list.

Dancing on tables sticky with champagne, singing until your lungs ache and your voice croaks. The same playlist is on repeat - remixes you haven’t heard before, but those that will remain reminders of a trip that won’t soon be forgotten.

Layered hoodies and teeth that chatter when the day’s burning sun veils itself. The sky darkens and the island appears little more than a single lit pinprick in a surrounding sea. That pinprick can feel like an entire world.    

Iced coffee so intense it cures any lingering effects from the night before, but gives your limbs a new reason to shake.

The initial excitement of free shots following meals, and the growing nausea of the sight as the week progresses.

Giving up sleep for 6am strolls accompanied by pastel pink sunrises and still waters. It’s a sight you soon give up trying to capture, a view that doesn’t deserve to be seen through a screen.

A constant melody of “do I have tan lines yet?” and “you’re looking a little red” joined by the scent of sun cream as it’s massaged into muscles aching from water sport days and firework nights.

Quad bikes that speed through the sand, up to deserted lighthouses and down to rocky beaches, all under the starlit blanket of a sky – one that belongs to both late night and early morning.

People with bandanas around their heads and tan lines around their arms, people you’ve never met before and likely won’t meet again, but those who made an impact. You’ll remember fellow travellers as well as you will the natives – the kind hearts and determined demeanours, phoning every one of the limited taxis that circulate the island for no benefit of their own.  

Looking on the bright side, because looking anywhere else would make little sense, or no sense at all.