Most people remember Skiathos as an island of beaches, bars, and planes flying low overhead. However, we decided to head in the opposite direction—Hiking Mt. Mytikas, the island’s highest point. It may only stand at 433 meters, but don’t let the number fool you. The trails around it will force you to gain elevation you wouldn’t expect from a “beach island.” And that’s exactly where the magic lies.
Fences, Cows, and Quick Decisions
Our first major stop wasn’t for a view, but because of a fence. To cross or not to cross? Behind it, cows grazed peacefully in the distance. They looked like they knew tourists better than the local bars did. We just hoped there weren’t any jealous bulls nearby.
On top of that, the barking of dogs—the kind where you can read a clear message in their eyes: ‘One more step and I’ll tear you a new one.’ In the mountains, it always sounds a lot more urgent than in the village. 💪
A quick opening of the gate, a quick passage, and an even quicker retreat. The mountains of Skiathos teach you to make decisions without unnecessary philosophizing.
Karafiltzanaka: Best views on Skiathos
Karafiltzanaka—the island’s second-highest peak—looked like an unnecessary detour on the map. In reality, it became one of the most powerful spots of the day. We reached the summit, and suddenly everything was clear. Skopelos lay across from us in the palm of our hand, the port glistened below, and even the airport was visible in the distance. And most importantly—there was no wind. It’s that kind of peace where you don’t want to go further, and you don’t want to go down. We sat there longer than planned. And we didn’t mind at all.
Hiking Mt. Mytikas
After several kilometers of ups and downs, the trail led us to a small meadow where the main cross was finally visible. Mytikas. The roof of Skiathos. The final stretch gave the body a workout. Ropes, chains, rocks, and focus. Nothing technically extreme, but enough to let you know you earned the summit. And at the top? Views. Silence. And a small Greek joke. In the box with the summit logbook, a bottle of ouzo and three glasses awaited us. You’ve got to love the Greeks. Even on a mountain peak, they know that the ritual is more important than the performance.
The descent from Mytikas led us past ancient olive trees that stood here long before anyone started calling the island a holiday destination. For the inland of Skiathos, the olive was what the beach is for tourists today—the certainty of survival.
Down Among the Olives
A bit further down the trail, a simple stone olive press once operated—manual, slow, powered by people and patience. Families brought their harvests from the surrounding slopes and pressed oil not for trade, but for themselves, for the winter, for their children. According to local custom, the first batch of oil wasn’t sold—it belonged to the chapel or the monastery, or it stayed at home as a blessing for the whole year.
This is why the olive groves on Skiathos don’t feel like plantations; they feel like heritage. To this day, many locals produce oil only in small quantities, often having it processed off-island, but the taste remains the same—raw, earthy, honest. Between the olives and the mountains, there was never a border; one world flowed seamlessly into the other. When you pass through on foot, you suddenly understand why the islanders never fully moved to the sea. The mountain may have tired them, but the olive always sustained them.
Back to Civilization
We are above Parissi Winery, back in the more civilized part of the island. It wasn’t extremely difficult, but it was divine. And yet, I dare say that 90% of tourists on Skiathos will never experience these views. No shuttle bus comes here… and perhaps that’s just as it should be.
Chapels That Don’t Shine on Instagram
Hiking Mt. Mytikas was succesfull. Along the way, we pass one of many chapels. There are dozens on the Skiathos island—especially along the northern trails. Humble, open, maintained by locals. No turnstiles, no entry fees, no explanatory plaques. If you have time, take Skiathos hiking trails ST 8, which follows the north coast between the lost city of Kastro and Agios Alexandrios. We didn’t make it this time. And to this day, we regret it a little. We missed it partly because Evangelistria Monastery—the monastery and its olive groves—was waiting for us in the evening.
