Before there was Dinah Shore, there was Lesvos. Here’s an explainer on why, exactly, it’s so canonically gay – and what to do when you get there.
WORDS BY SOPHIE WILKINSON Glinting blue-white waves from the Aegean lap against pumice-grey sands, Sak Noel’s ‘Loca People‘ bops over from a nearby beach bar… “all day…all night”, and the thuds, slaps, minor groans, claps and cheers of a nearby volleyball game burble in and out.
There are little tortoises doing laps in a nearby lagoon. I stretch out, topless, maybe even pantsless, under the dwindling evening sun that casts shadows along this 3km beach.
I’m full of Mythos beer, tzatziki crisps and joy. During this absurdly idyllic scene, the type I grew up seeing on TV adverts for far-flung package holidays that stipulated, in the small print ‘applies to couples of one man and one woman only’, I turn to the woman I love.