Tucked away in the northern Aegean, northeast of Evia (Euboea), Skyros is one of Greece’s quieter islands – rugged, pine-covered, and shaped by sea winds and solitude. It’s a place that often escapes the itineraries of sun-seeking tourists, and that’s part of its charm. Here, the whitewashed houses of Hora, its main town, cling to the steep hillside beneath a brooding Byzantine castle, goats wander mountain roads, and the rhythms of island life move to a slower, more timeless beat.

But Skyros has another, more mythic claim to fame. According to ancient legend, this was once the secret hiding place of Achilles – the greatest warrior of the Trojan War – who lived here not in gleaming bronze armor, but in disguise, cloaked in women’s robes, hidden among the daughters of a king.

This tale of disguise, fate, and eventual glory on the plains of Troy adds a rich layer of storytelling to an island already steeped in history, stretching back to the Neolithic (mid-6th millennium BC). For travelers with a taste for myth and romance, Skyros offers more than just beaches and vistas – it offers a glimpse into the epic world of Greek legend, where even the mightiest heroes once sought refuge.

Achilles in Hiding: The Myth

Before he was the wrathful warrior of Homer’s “Iliad,” before the blood-cuddling battle cries and the shield forged by Hephaestus, Achilles was a boy on the brink of legend – and his mother was worried sick.

Thetis, a sea-nymph with divine powers and maternal instincts to match, knew the prophecy: her son was destined for glory, but it would come at a terrible cost. If Achilles sailed to Troy, he would never return. Determined to outwit fate (never an easy task in Greek myth!), she spirited him away to the island of Skyros and placed him under the care of King Lycomedes.

Here, things took an unexpected turn. To keep him hidden, Thetis disguised Achilles as a girl and smuggled him into the royal palace, where he lived among Lycomedes’ many daughters. Some say he took the name Pyrrha – “the red-haired girl” – to match his long, flaming locks. Others say he blended in so well that no one suspected a thing. Either way, it was an unusual chapter in the life of a warrior-in-waiting: the future slayer of Hector, clad in flowing robes, passing his days in dance and embroidery.

But Achilles’ time in hiding wasn’t without drama. Among the king’s daughters was Deidamia, and – whether by accident or design – the two grew close. So close, in fact, that they had a child together: Neoptolemus (“new warrior”), who would later follow in his father’s footsteps to Troy, play a key role in the final days of the war, and sneak inside the city’s walls in the belly of the famous Trojan Horse.

Back on the mainland in Mycenae, meanwhile, the Greek war machine was gearing up. Agamemnon had summoned the kings of Greece to sail for Troy and retrieve Helen, wife of his brother, Menelaus. But without Achilles, the army lacked its most formidable weapon. Odysseus, the king of Ithaca and ever the trickster, was sent to find him.

Arriving on Skyros disguised as a merchant, Odysseus quickly saw through the ruse. To flush Achilles out, he staged a trap: he presented the royal “maidens” with a collection of glittering gifts – jewels, dresses, delicate trinkets… and a single gleaming sword. As the others cooed over the finery, one “girl” instinctively reached for the weapon. The truth was out. Achilles had revealed himself – not with a confession, but with a warrior’s reflex.

There was no turning back. Skyros, the island that had offered him shelter and love, would be the last place Achilles knew peace. He departed for Troy, glory, and his fated end. But his story on the island lives on – a tale of youthful passion, motherly protection, and a legendary hero hiding in a dress.

An Island Apart

Skyros doesn’t quite fit the postcard image of a “classic” Greek island. It’s not distinctly Cycladic, with whitewashed domes against a bare blue sky, nor fully Sporadic, wrapped in lush green hills. Instead, it’s a curious hybrid – a little wild, a little whimsical – floating alone in the Aegean, both geographically and stylistically apart. And that, perhaps, is its quiet allure.

Arriving by ferry from the port of Kimi on Evia, the island greets you with a rugged, remote silhouette. Pine-covered hills rise from the sea in the north, a landscape that feels serene and untouched. But head south, and everything changes. The scenery sharpens – more barren, more dramatic – with rocky cliffs and hidden coves that seem to belong to another world. It’s an island of contrasts, and its magic lies in that shifting, shape-shifting beauty.

At the island’s heart is Hora, the main town, clinging to a steep hillside beneath the remains of a Byzantine castle. Narrow alleys twist through a maze of whitewashed houses, some with brightly painted balconies, others opening onto quiet courtyards paved with intricate pebble mosaics. Cats lounge in patches of sun. Mopeds buzz past tiny bakeries. Old men sip Greek coffee in shaded kafeneia, watching the day unfold like it has for generations.

From the castle ruins above – built on what some romantically believe to be the site of King Lycomedes’ ancient palace – the view stretches across tiled rooftops and over the Aegean. It’s not hard to imagine ships setting sail for Troy, their sails full of destiny.

Folk Art and Miniature Horses

But Skyros isn’t only for dreamers and myth-lovers – it’s a living, breathing place with its own customs and quirks.

Take the Skyrian Carnival, one of the most unique festivals in Greece. Each year before Lent, masked revelers dressed in goat skins and jangling bells parade through the streets in a joyous burst of chaos. The celebration blends ancient ritual with festive abandon, its roots believed to stretch back to pre-Christian times – perhaps even to the wild, wine-soaked dances of Dionysian cults.

The island also boasts a rich tradition of folk art, and is renowned for its embroidery, pottery, and woodcarving. Skyrian furniture – dark, delicate, and ornately hand-carved – has been passed down through families for centuries. In small workshops, artisans still shape miniature chairs, dowry chests, and open-shelved cabinets using the same tools their ancestors once held. These pieces aren’t just objects; they’re part of a distinct Skyrian aesthetic – a quiet, tactile expression of local identity.

Food here is hearty and honest, shaped by the land and the sea. You’ll find local cheeses, like mild xinotyro and tangy graviera, served alongside caper-strewn salads and thick slices of island bread. Goat meat features heavily – roasted, stewed, or slow-cooked with wild herbs plucked from the hillsides. Other local products include honey and fava beans.

And then there are the horses – not the statuesque steeds of modern farms, but the Skyrian miniature horse, a rare and ancient breed that still roams the island in small herds. With just 260 left in all of Greece – 187 of which are on Skyros – these compact, sturdy horses are a living link to the island’s agricultural past. Some believe they were brought here by Athenian colonists in the 5th to 8th centuries BC. Others go further, claiming these are the very horses depicted in the Parthenon frieze, and perhaps even used in the campaigns of Alexander the Great.

For those seeking escape, Skyros delivers. The beaches are quiet and often gloriously empty – especially Agios Fokas, Diapori, Magazia, Molos, and Kalamitsa – ideal for swimming, snorkeling, or simply letting the hours drift past. There are currently eight nature and culture routes on the island, implemented and maintained by the Skyros LIFE project. Hikers can follow stone paths through pine forests and along cliff edges, used for years by local shepherds for their sheep, passing tiny monasteries and chapels tucked into the landscape.

One of the most striking is the Monastery of Agios Georgios, perched just below the castle in Hora. Its faded frescoes, hand-carved woodwork, and peaceful courtyard offer a glimpse into a more contemplative side of the island’s soul. 

Unlike flashier islands with their nightlife and glossy resorts, Skyros moves to its own, older rhythm. It doesn’t shout for attention – but for those who come, it offers something far more lasting: a sense of place, of rootedness, of story. And in a land of myths, that might just be the most precious thing of all.

Myth Meets Place: Where to Feel the Story

One of the most evocative places is the quiet harbor of Achilli, a secluded inlet on the island’s central east coast, 4km south of Hora. According to legend, this is where Achilles boarded the ships bound for Troy. Standing at the water’s edge, it’s easy to imagine sails unfurling and a young hero stepping into the unknown.

Travel further north, and you step even deeper into time. The archaeological site of Palamari, dating from the Early and Middle Bronze Age (2550–1650 BC), offers a glimpse into a world that predates the Trojan War entirely. Once a fortified settlement and thriving port, Palamari’s well-preserved walls and layout suggest that Skyros was never as isolated as it might seem; an active participant in the nascent trade routes that crisscrossed the Aegean.

Twentieth Century Achilles

But not all myths are ancient. In the lower part of Hora stands a bronze statue of Rupert Brooke, the young English poet, soldier, and Philhellene who died en route to Gallipoli on April 23, 1915, onboard a hospital ship anchored off Skyros. He was buried in an olive grove overlooking the serene Tris Boukes Bay, in the southwest part of the island, and his gravesite can be visited today. His romantic legacy has become part of the island’s soul, linking the classical with the modern – a reminder that heroism, sacrifice, and story endure in many forms.

Adjacent Brooke Square (“Eonia Poiisi”), the small but highly informative Archaeological Museum of Skyros gathers fragments of the island’s layered past. Exhibits span from the Early Helladic to Roman periods, with a dedicated section on the site of Palamari. Pottery, tools, and artifacts whisper of daily life in a world long vanished – yet still faintly present in stone and soil.

And then there is Theseus, the legendary king of Athens. His story ends here, too – some say betrayed and pushed from a cliff by King Lycomedes himself. His tomb is said to rest on Skyros – another hero whose journey ended on these myth-touched shores.

Skyros is more than just a place on the map – it’s a threshold between worlds. For Achilles, it was the last stop before fate and fame. For travelers today, it’s a space to pause and breathe. The island’s beauty lies in its contrasts: wild yet gentle, storied yet unspoiled. Whether you’re chasing myths or simply seeking stillness, Skyros offers both – a place to hide, to transform, and perhaps, like Achilles, to discover who you really are.