She kneels at the roadside, her bicycle parked nearby, angling the lens to frame the moment more precisely as the tangerine sun slips behind the hill. Heidi is an experienced photographer, but this landscape – and this light – is new to her. Just then, a red pickup truck stacked with hay slows as it passes. Inside are Michalis and his son Giorgos, heading to the sheepfold for their evening feeding.

It’s a scene from Leros that, taken in isolation, could easily be mistaken for a snapshot from the 1970s. Moments like these – now increasingly rare in an age of overtourism and lost innocence – are scattered across this quiet island, hiding in plain sight. And while Leros was never exactly known for carefree living, such glimpses now coexist with a more complex history one that continues to shape the island’s identity.

That contrast may be one of the reasons why so many foreigners have chosen to settle here. What they find is a rare combination: the simplicity of another era paired with the comforts a modern traveler craves. A small community where everyone knows each other, distances are short, doors are left unlocked, and a rare, enveloping calm permeates daily life.

Leros has remained largely untouched by the sweeping waves of tourism that have transformed so many other Greek islands in the latter half of the 20th century. One reason is its decades-long association with the State Psychiatric Hospital, which opened in 1958. But the island’s layered history begins earlier – with the Italians.

The Italian Footprint

On May 12, 1912, Italian forces occupied Leros and quickly recognized its strategic significance. The port of Lakki, one of the largest and deepest natural harbors in the Aegean, was deemed ideal for use as a naval base. The Italians renamed it Portolago and embarked on an ambitious plan: to build a model town around the bay.

The city plan was officially approved in 1934, and within less than a decade, a new town had emerged, complete with a school, church, town hall, movie theater, hospital, hotel, marketplace, and residential blocks. For a time, the Italian population on the island even outnumbered the local Greeks.

At the same time, the Italian military fortified the island with lookout posts, barracks, and tunnel networks, which would prove crucial during World War II. Early in the war, Leros was bombarded by the British; later, following Italy’s surrender in 1943, the Germans launched their own assault.

The Battle of Leros lasted 52 days – from September 26 to November 16, 1943 – and became one of the most significant military engagements in the Eastern Mediterranean. It was also one of the last German victories in the region, leaving behind a seabed littered with sunken ships and aircraft.

The Legacy of Isolation

When the Dodecanese islands were officially united with Greece in 1947, the Italians departed, leaving behind a substantial infrastructure. Among these remnants was the naval base at Lepida, just across from Lakki. This extensive complex would go on to shape the island’s fate for decades to come.

In 1949, the site became home to the Royal Technical Schools, which hosted more than 16,000 children and adolescents from the so-called Paidopoleis, state-run “children’s towns” established under Queen Frederica’s postwar welfare programs.

But it was the island’s large, vacant buildings and its geographic remoteness that led to a different kind of institution being established in 1958: the Leros Psychiatric Hospital. At the time, a sign on the premises read “Colony of Psychopaths” – a stark reminder of the era’s stigmatizing views of mental illness.

At its peak, the hospital employed hundreds of locals, creating an economy largely independent of tourism. But the island’s identity became further entwined with marginalization. During Greece’s military dictatorship (1967-1974), Leros was used as a place of political exile. According to the locals, “People have always come to Leros who didn’t want to be here” – a phrase that continues to echo today, especially since the establishment of the migrant reception center currently operating above the former psychiatric facility.

In 1989, The Observer published photos exposing the appalling living conditions at the Leros asylum. The images shocked international audiences and triggered a long-overdue reckoning in Greek mental health policy. What followed was a slow and challenging process of deinstitutionalization, supported by mental health professionals from around the world who came to study and reform the system.

Many patients were transferred to facilities elsewhere in Greece; others began the difficult journey toward social reintegration, often within the very community of Leros. Today, a few dozen still live on the island in independent housing. Many are employed by Greece’s first mental health social cooperative, founded in 2002 as part of the Dodecanese Mental Health Sector. The cooperative cultivates herbs and aromatic plants and produces honey at Caserma of Herbs, a working farm in the area of Koulouki that is open to visitors.

Echoes of History

It’s hard to visit Leros and not be struck by its layered, often complex history – even if it contrasts with the carefree spirit most travelers associate with Greek summer holidays. One of the most meaningful ways to engage with the island is to take a walk around Lakki, the island’s main port town, and admire the striking examples of Italian Rationalist architecture built during the interwar period.

Off the coast at Krithoni, a well-run and welcoming dive center offers visitors the rare chance to explore nine World War II shipwrecks – haunting reminders of the fierce battles that once raged around the island.

History is equally tangible inland. One of the island’s most notable sites is the War Museum, housed inside an Italian-era tunnel carved into the hillside, where wartime artifacts are carefully curated and exhibited. A similar atmosphere can be found at Deposito di Guerra, a private collection of dozens of items – from uniforms and weapons to naval mines and military maps – all open to the public.

Also worth visiting is the small chapel of Aghia Kioura, a site often included in the few travel guides available for the island. Between 1968 and 1971, during Greece’s military dictatorship, exiled political prisoners repaired and painted its interior, creating a place of quiet resistance through sacred art. On the western side of the island, above the area known as Gerakas, you’ll find a curved acoustic wall, an early form of radar used by the Italian air defense to detect approaching enemy aircraft.

As part of a growing effort to highlight this rich historical heritage, the town of Lakki is now restoring its iconic Leros Hotel, which was originally built by the Italians as Albergo Roma.

Yet Leros is more than its past. With a year-round population of around 8,000, the island is very much alive in both spirit and activity. Since 1989, a local theater troupe has staged six to seven productions each year, with over 30 active members. Fanouris Kontogiorgakis, a decorated cycling champion, has created Leros Bikes, through which he offers guided bike tours for visitors. He also maintains trails, teaches cycling to local children, organizes tree-planting initiatives, and repairs wheelchairs free of charge – a quiet force of good in a small, close-knit community.

A Different Kind of Island Escape

Of course, the “classic” ingredients of a Greek island holiday are here too. Leros boasts a wide variety of beaches – some serviced, others unspoiled – but none overrun by crowds or umbrellas, even in the heart of August. Along the shoreline, unpretentious seaside tavernas serve up freshly caught fish and top-quality seafood brought in daily by the island’s many fishing boats.

Its settlements may not conform to the typical postcard image of the Aegean, but they offer a distinctive charm all their own. Lakki with its unique architecture and Aghia Marina with its cluster of neoclassical buildings and the Byzantine castle towering on the opposite hilltop invite slow exploration and discovery.

Still, the island’s greatest luxury is its unfiltered authenticity. What sets Leros apart is the genuine connection visitors can form with locals, the absence of mass tourism, the immediacy of unspoiled nature, and the villages that remain free from sprawling commercial zones. There are no black vans shuttling tour groups back and forth all day, and it’s rare to find yourself waiting for a table at dinner. There are no mega-resorts blanketing the hillsides.

Instead, a gentle, slow-paced form of tourism has begun to emerge more confidently in recent years – especially since the island began to move beyond its association with the psychiatric hospital.

Whether or not Leros will embrace its layered and often uncomfortable history – integrating both its light and shadow into a fuller identity – remains to be seen. In the meantime, Heidi will go on learning the rhythms of the Aegean sun, camera in hand, still chasing that perfect shot.