I first visited Mykonos in the summer of 1955. At that time, it was impossible for me to imagine what would happen in the next sixty years to this magical and quiet island with its one and only twelve-seat bus and the multitude of donkeys.

On the day of my arrival, the island hosted around fifteen visitors. A typical summer day in 2018, on the other hand, hosts between 120,000 to 140,000 visitors.

Mykonos was like an independent island principality, with its own culture, its own dances, its songs, poetry, cuisine, fabrics, architecture, and even its own language. All of these carefully evolved and shaped over thousands of years amidst wars, occupations, droughts, and other disasters.

No one should underestimate how isolated the Aegean islands were during the sailing era and how unique and distinct the cultures that developed in their places were. It is not an exaggeration to claim that life in Mykonos has changed more in the last sixty years than in the past 3,000 years.

The island had limited agricultural capabilities, scarce water, good fishing, and very few other natural resources. In a way, it represented an untouched example of a highly organized, self-sufficient Aegean civilization. It lived in balance with its available land, water, and marine resources, supplementing its income with exports and trade of sailing boats, as well as with remittances from Mykonian sailors and migrants.

How lucky I was to see the island at that time, when it was on the brink of its future dramatic change.